Milf Hunter: Seducing And Taming Beauties

Chapter 905: Blanket Hides Nothing – Cum Trails

I glanced down at the bed — the massive wet spot beneath Gabriela’s ass had spread even wider in the last few minutes, a dark, irregular oval soaked through the white comforter.

Thick white globs of my cum were still slowly seeping out of her gaping asshole, mixing with her own slick and the faint sheen of her earlier squirt residue that had transferred from her thighs. The whole area reeked — musky, salty, unmistakably sexual.

I cleared my throat casually.

”Oh, these bedsheets are a bit sweaty... please change them.”

Then I gave Gabriela’s ass a light, possessive pat through the thin sheet — right over the curve where my handprints still lingered red.

SMACK! (soft but audible)

”Wife... let’s move to the couch. Let her change the bedsheets... they became all wet and smelly from last night’s sweating...”

The word ”sweating” landed like a slap.

Gabriela’s breath caught in a sharp, panicked inhale. She knew exactly what I was doing — calling her massive balcony squirts and the endless cum leakage ”sweat” in front of a stranger who could clearly smell the truth. Her face burned crimson; she could feel fresh heat flooding her cheeks, her neck, even her ears.

Samantha — already blushing faintly from the earlier laundry pickup — understood immediately. Her eyes flicked to the bed for a split second: the unmistakable creamy streaks, the damp patch that had soaked through to the mattress protector underneath, the way the fabric clung wetly in places.

She didn’t say a word, but her lips pressed into a thin line, and her cheeks darkened another shade. She knew. She knew it wasn’t sweat.

Gabriela let out a tiny, humiliated whimper — barely audible — and scrambled to grab the blanket that had slipped off her earlier.

She yanked it around herself like a cocoon, wrapping it tight over her naked body, clutching it to her chest with white-knuckled fingers.

The sheet underneath stayed behind, leaving her completely exposed for the brief second it took to stand — her thighs slick, a fresh trickle of cum already running down the inside of one leg.

”Jack... no... don’t make me walk... it’s dripping... right now... aaaah... I can feel it sliding down... please...”

I stood up in just my black boxer briefs — cock still semi-hard, the thick outline pressing obscenely against the fabric, wet spot at the tip growing darker — and wrapped an arm firmly around her waist.

”Come on, wife. The couch is only a few steps.”

She had no choice.

I half-guided, half-carried her — her legs shaky, knees threatening to buckle — across the room. Every small step made her asshole clench and release, pushing out another warm glob of cum that ran down her inner thigh and dripped onto the carpet in tiny, silent patters.

The blanket dragged behind her like a cape, barely covering her ass, and she kept one hand clamped between her legs, trying (and failing) to stop the flow.

Samantha watched the whole awkward shuffle from the corner of her eye — pretending to busy herself with the fresh linens — but she couldn’t miss it: the way Gabriela’s thighs glistened, the faint wet trails on the carpet, the soft, broken whimpers Gabriela couldn’t quite swallow.

When we finally reached the couch, I lowered Gabriela down gently. She immediately curled into a tight ball under the blanket, knees to chest, face buried in the fabric.

But the position only made it worse — gravity shifted, and another thick rope of cum oozed out, soaking into the blanket beneath her ass. She bit her lip so hard it turned white.

”Aaaah... Jack... it won’t stop... it’s leaking through the blanket now... she’s gonna see... when she walks past... por favor... make it stop...”

Samantha moved to the bed with practiced efficiency. She peeled back the soaked top sheet first — the wet fabric making a soft, sticky peeling sound as it separated from the mattress.

She froze for half a second when she saw the full extent: multiple creamy white streaks where my cum had leaked out in pulses, mixed with clearer, wider patches from Gabriela’s squirting orgasms earlier. The scent hit her full force — sharp, intimate, impossible to mistake for anything innocent.

Her blush deepened to scarlet. She quickly balled up the sheet, trying not to look too closely, but her eyes betrayed her — darting to the stains, then to Gabriela huddled on the couch, then back to the bed.

She sprayed room freshener — a heavy burst of artificial lavender — but it barely cut through the underlying musk. If anything, it made the sex smell stand out more by contrast.

Gabriela peeked out from under the blanket just long enough to see Samantha holding the cum-soaked sheet in her gloved hands. Her voice came out in a tiny, trembling whisper:

”She’s... she’s touching it... the sheet with all your cum... and my... my squirt... aaaah... Jack... this is too much... I feel like I’m gonna die of shame... but... but my pussy’s throbbing again... just from her seeing... hnnngh...”

I slid onto the couch behind her, pulling her back against my chest so the blanket tented over us both. My hand slipped under the fabric — fingers finding her still-gaping asshole again — and I pressed just the tip inside, feeling the fresh warmth of leaking cum coat my skin.

”Shhh, wife,” I murmured against her ear, loud enough that Samantha might hear if she listened. ”Let her do her job. She’s almost done.”

Samantha finished stripping the bed — new fitted sheet snapped on, fresh comforter smoothed down — all without a single word. But her movements were faster now, cheeks still flushed, eyes carefully averted.

When she finally gathered the soiled linens into the hamper on her trolley, she gave a quick nod.

”Everything’s fresh now, sir. Have a good night.”

The door clicked shut behind her.

Gabriela let out a long, shuddering breath — then immediately dissolved into quiet, hiccuping sobs of pure overwhelmed humiliation.

”She saw... everything... the stains... the smell... she carried the sheet with your cum all over it... aaaah... Jack... I’m never gonna forget her face... but... fuck... touch me... please... I need you inside again... right now... while it’s still fresh in my head... while I’m still dripping...”

I tugged the blanket aside just enough, flipped her onto her back on the couch, and slid my cock free from my briefs — still rock-hard from the entire humiliating display.

”Spread for me, baby. Let’s make the couch match the sheets.”

She whimpered, thighs falling open instantly — fresh cum already bubbling out of her asshole — and pulled me down on top of her.

The fresh linens on the bed stayed untouched.

The couch, however... was about to get ruined.