A Long Day

There was a lot of commotion going on in my own backyard--and I suddenly remembered that this was the day that my son, Barry, had arranged for a big party for the members of his college lacrosse team to celebrate the completion of a pretty successful season. I haven't mentioned my son, have I? He's a darling, and is very devoted to me. He just turned twenty-one and has completed his junior year of college. He can't wait to get his degree and move on out into the real world.

He doesn't actually live with me anymore--no young man of his age wants to be tied to his mother's apron-strings--but he asked me to let him use my spacious backyard for the party. I saw that he'd already gotten everything prepared: plenty of munchies, a wide selection of soft drinks and fruit juice (the guys range in age from nineteen to twenty-two, but that means that most of them aren't legally old enough to drink alcohol), and a boombox to provide musical entertainment.

As I surveyed the area from the kitchen window, I counted a total of twenty-two guys, including my son. I have to say, I've probably never seen such a mouth-watering array of young male flesh in my life: all the guys were healthy, vigorous, and athletic (as you would expect), and the musculature on their arms, chests, and legs was accentuated by the fact that most of them were only wearing a T-shirt and shorts. And why not? It was a hot day.

I guess I was getting a little hotter just looking at them.

I drifted out into the backyard, came up to Barry, and said, "Hi, dear."

He turned to me and gave me a big bear-hug, almost lifting me off the ground. "Hi, Mom!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, Barry, put me down!" I chided. I hoped to heaven he didn't notice the wetness in my lower quarters.

"Where were you, Mom?" he said. "I thought you'd be here sooner."

"Um, well, I got tied up at church."

He gave me a funny look, but otherwise didn't pay much attention to me: he was keen on getting back to chatting with his friends.

By now, the mess in my panties--three loads of come, two in my ass and one in my pussy--was really starting to bother me. So, before he wandered off, I told him, "Look, Barry, I need to change. In fact, I think I'll take a quick shower."

But he was already heading off to talk to someone. I shrugged, turned around, and went back into the house.

Climbing the stairs, I went right into the bathroom, turned on the shower, stripped (making sure to put those soiled panties far down in the laundry hamper--out of sight and out of mind), and stepped into the shower stall. Even on this warm day, the hot water felt good all over my body. I wasn't going to lather up--there didn't seem to be any need. But I did spread my butt cheeks wide so that the come that was still there would trickle out of me, and I made sure to give my pussy a good dousing also.

I got out of the shower, dried myself off with a big towel, then headed to my bedroom to dress.

I was still rubbing my back with the towel, my back to the door, when I heard the door open.

Of course I assumed it was my son. Who else would be so bold as to invade my space here? Without even turning around, I cried, "Barry, a little privacy please!" When I got no answer, I did slowly turn around.

It wasn't Barry who'd come into the room, but another guy. He must have been standing near us when I'd told my son I was going to take a shower.

Holding the towel in front of my body, I said in a shaky voice, "You--you shouldn't be here."

I won't deny that this guy was even better-looking than most of his teammates. I especially liked the mop of curly brown hair on the top of his head and the open, honest expression on his face--but that expression right now was showing a weird mix of excitement and fear. He knew he was doing something very naughty.

"You're so pretty, ma'am," he whispered tensely.

"Thank you," I said, trying to sound as if I was in charge, "but you really need to leave."

But he didn't leave. Instead, he peeled off his T-shirt and shorts in about five seconds.

I gasped. Seeing this young man naked reminded me of all the wonderful men in my own college days who seemed to want me--and a few of whom I'd allowed into my bed and my body. (Yes, I know that's "fornication"--but I couldn't help myself.) And one part of him in particular fixated me: his nine-inch cock, already so erect that it was standing straight up from his groin.

"My goodness," I breathed, unable to take my eyes off of that impressive organ.

He approached me slowly and hesitantly. I was still holding the towel in front of me, kind of like a bullfighter facing a bull. Extending an arm, he gently but insistently took the towel away from me. So now we were both naked.

It was his turn to gasp. He gazed eagerly, almost reverently, at me. And he should have! Even if my no-good husband couldn't appreciate me, others could. I'm five foot six, with soft auburn hair, and a sweet face. My breasts are still high and firm (36D, for your information), and pretty close together. And I think I have a nice hourglass figure, with swelling hips and a solid, curvy bottom. Just the picture of ripe womanhood, if I do say so myself.

Unexpectedly, he fell to his knees and buried his face in my bush. I have to confess that I indulge in the vanity of shaving my pubic hair into an exact upside-down triangle right over my delta. Appropriate, isn't it? (For those of you who don't know the Greek alphabet, the letter delta is in the shape of a triangle.) This guy gave it a little kiss, then rubbed his face against it--and then pried open my labia (yes, they were wet already) and began licking me.

My first thought was:

What a gentleman!

Most guys in this situation would basically force a girl to suck their cocks. So many men, young and old, are always focused on their own pleasure. This guy seemed, at least at the start, to be attentive to my own, and he seemed pleased that my pussy was actually dripping after he gave it a few licks. He also put his hands on my bottom--I guess he liked the feel of them. Then he led me to the bed.

After what I'd already been through at church and with my neighbor, I was happy to lie on my back for once. It's the natural position for a lady, isn't it? I mean, man is the pursuer and woman the pursued--it's always been that way and probably always will be. The man wants the woman's body, and he's the one who's putting a part of himself into the woman; so he should be the one to take charge. I'm fine with that.

And he did go into me--only a little ways at first, but more and more deeply as he saw that I was a willing partner. I don't wonder that he was hesitant at first: we weren't exactly well acquainted! He'd probably looked upon me for less than a minute in the backyard before making his way up here to my bedroom. Fast work! I guess he couldn't believe his luck.

I wrapped my legs around his hips as he began pounding me, grabbing my big breasts and kissing me all over. Sometimes he reached around to stroke my back and butt and thighs. He just couldn't get enough of feeling me all over! Such a nice boy. And if you're wondering why I gave in to him so easily--well, I suppose I'd been primed by the three men who'd already done me before. I felt it was just my role and my obligation to submit to him. And he

was

awfully good-looking! I wasn't totally passive: I made sure to give his own back and butt some squeezes, and he seemed to like that.

When he came, he bellowed like an ox, burying his face in the pillow next to my face so he wouldn't be heard. That wasn't very likely, since my bedroom faced the front lawn, and the ruckus in the backyard was pretty loud. He stayed in me for a little while, then pulled out wetly. His stuff began leaking out of me almost immediately. I just lay there, kind of dazed but pretty happy.

He heaved himself up from the bed, snatched up his clothes, said "You were fabulous, ma'am!" and left the room.

I just lay there, digesting what had happened. So now a total of four guys had possessed me within a period of about an hour. That was something of a record, at least for me! I chuckled at the thought that I'd never been this wild even in my college days. In fact, as a good Catholic girl I'd never really been wild at all. Better late than never!

Somehow it didn't surprise me when, after a few minutes, another guy came slowly up the stairs and peered into my bedroom, his eyes getting wide when he saw me lying naked on the bed, my legs spread.

"Hello," I said cheerfully.

"Hi," he croaked, stepping in as if walking on eggshells. "Tony said there was a lady up here who was... available."

"Oh, he said that, did he?" I snapped back. I wasn't sure I appreciated that remark. But then I shrugged. "Yes, I guess I am."

This guy also stripped in no time flat, leaped onto the bed, and had me.

What followed over the next several hours was--well, you can guess. Once the word got out that this "lady" was "available" (and, on top of that, was the mother of their beloved teammate), there was seemingly no end to the succession of brawny young men of all different sorts who wanted to sample my charms. They were white, black, Latino, and Asian; they were slender, hefty, and everything in between; they had big cocks, smaller cocks, straight cocks, curved cocks. I didn't say no to any of them. Why should I? They all found me adorable, and what's not to like about that? Most of the time, men of that age simply pay no attention to older women--we're basically invisible to them. But these guys were properly appreciative of a woman who's been around the block a few times, and they showed their appreciation in the best way they could: they came early and often.

After a while they got impatient and started coming by in pairs. I'd never done that before, but took it in stride. There are a couple of different ways a woman can be doubly penetrated. She can get on her hands and knees and have a guy poke her in her pussy (or her butt) while she sucks another guy's cock; or she can do what I call "front and back"--lie on her side and have one guy in front, stuffing her pussy with his thing, while the other guy forges into her bottom. I like that the best. Sometimes the first guy wants to lie down on his back and have me on top of him, facing him; he fills my vagina while another guy squats behind us and plugs up my ass.

That particular position is one way to do triple penetration--which is something the guys started to do a little later on. With the two guys in me as described above, another guy kneels down in front and shoves his cock into my mouth. I have to say, it takes a bit of concentration to pay attention to everything that's happening to you. Sure, the guys are doing most of the work, but it still takes effort to keep everyone happy. And the guys seem to like the idea of coming all at once--three loads of their stuff going into me all at once! It didn't always work out, but the guys did their best to pull it off.

After a while it got to the point that, once one guy finished in one hole, another guy took his place almost immediately. This meant that I was filled up in all three orifices for what seemed like hours on end. Quite an experience! And don't get the impression I didn't have fun myself. Even if I was the vessel for the emptying of their come into me, I had a number of climaxes myself. It's pretty hard not to, with all the stuff happening to you. I'd never had six or seven or eight orgasms one after the other. That really wore me out--more, in fact, than what the guys were doing to me.

If you think I felt abused or taken advantage of--well, forget that! As I've said, I was tickled that these handsome young men took such an interest in me. It was hugely flattering. And I don't think it was just because I had the right body parts. A lot of the guys made a point of telling me, "You were fabulous, ma'am!" or things like that. It was just the thing to bolster my self-esteem after my husband's abandonment of me.

The onslaught was finally over by late afternoon, and I just lay there resting and contemplating what had happened. I will admit that the bedsheet I was lying on was pretty damp with come and sweat (and maybe some of my juices as well), but somehow I didn't mind. Come dries pretty fast, anyway.

I was relishing the quiet and the silence after all the frenetic activity when, as if from a remote distance, I heard two words that partially snapped me out of my daze.

"Hi, Mom."

My son had drifted into the room. I think he'd peeked in a few times while the guys were doing me, just to make sure I was all right. But he didn't want to spoil his teammates' fun. Now he came up to the side of the bed, near my head, and knelt down next to me.

"Are you okay, Mom?" he said, his eyes wide.

You have to realize that I was still lying there with no clothes on. All the activity had made me pretty warm, so I didn't even want a sheet covering me. Why I didn't feel more unnerved at my own son seeing me naked, I couldn't tell you. I just I was just fatigued.

"I'm fine, dear," I murmured, eyes half-closed.

"Did the guys rough you up?"

"No, of course not. They were very respectful." (They'd called me "ma'am," after all!) "A nicer group of boys I've never seen."

"They, um, did you a lot."

"Did they? I guess they did."

"A lot of them came twice, maybe three times."

"Really? I didn't exactly keep count."

"Someone else did."

"He did? Keep count?"

"Yeah. It turns out they did you... fifty-two times."

I felt a little faint. "That many?"

"Yeah." With a shaky breath Barry went on, "Mom, you're a bit of a mess."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, there's come all over you."

"Oh. I guess there is. After a while I think my, um, places got all filled up, so they started coming

on

me rather than

in

me."

"I'd better clean you up."

And with that, Barry heaved himself up to a standing position and trotted off to the bathroom. He came back moments later, a wet washcloth in his hands. He started rubbing me down, cleaning up all the come that had spilled over me--my breasts, my back, my bottom, my thighs, even my face. There was one guy who seemed intent on directing his spray right into my pubic hair (I have a pretty lush bush), kind of like a gardener using a garden hose. The come had dried, so Barry had to scrub the area pretty thoroughly to get the flaky white stuff out of there.

"There, that's better," he said when he was done.

"Thank you, dear," I said.

I was waking up, and gave him a sharp glance. He was now standing by the side of the bed, and I could tell that something wasn't quite right with him.

"What's this, dear?" I asked.

"What's what, Mom?"

"This."

What I'd noticed was a big bulge in the area of his groin. So I pulled his shorts down with a quick motion with both hands. His cock popped out. It was erect--and at least eight inches long.

The first thing I felt was... pride. I knew my son was wonderful--not exactly an Einstein, perhaps, but a strong, fit lad who would surely make some lucky girl very happy. And now that I saw that impressive endowment, I was convinced of it.

He looked down at himself sheepishly and said, "Oops."

"That doesn't look very comfortable, dear," I said. "I don't know how you guys walk around with something like that."

And without further ado I took the thing in my hand and put it in my mouth.

Yes, I knew he was my son and I knew that I shouldn't be doing this--but with all the other cocks I'd seen and felt and tasted, it just seemed like the natural thing to do. Anyway, I wanted to sample that thick, hard member--I couldn't help comparing it (mostly favorably) to the other ones I'd had, although there were a few that were even more imposing.

My son's eyes now really bugged out as he watched his mom sucking his dick. I could sense that he was breathing pretty fast. I wondered whether he might just come in my mouth: after all, he'd been selectively watching me getting banged more than fifty times by his friends. He must have thought,

When is it going to be my turn?

But he surprised me just a wee bit by saying, "Mom, please... can I go in you?"

I paused what I was doing, although I didn't take the cock out of my mouth. I liked the way it felt and tasted. Then I did take it out, looked up at him, and said, "That's super-naughty, dear. You know, like Oedipus."

"I know," he said, his voice trembling. "But I--"

"Okay, dear, you have my permission."

"Really? You're not too exhausted--or sore?"

"Well, I am, but I can manage one more."

He climbed up on the bed, and on top of me. He didn't just plunge right into me, but focused on my breasts, which he seemed to find fascinating. I couldn't help remembering suckling him when he was an infant. All that nourishment he took out of me! I think he was reflecting on that too, although of course he couldn't possibly have any recollection of it. Then, slowly and hesitantly, he moved up my body, loomed over me with his arms held straight on either side of me--and entered me.

I sighed as that big thing went into me. Sure, it felt pretty much the way all the others had--but this was my son, and that made a huge difference. He lowered himself onto me, and my breasts pressed up against his chest. Then he started kissing me all over my face, while his hands scoured my breasts and back and bottom and anywhere else they could reach. He was so hungry for his mom!

I had a feeling he couldn't hold out very long, and he didn't. Within minutes he was sending long, thick streams of his emission deep into me. There may have been remnants of the other men's come in me, and that stuff got squeezed out as he shot his load into me. After he was finished he collapsed right on top of me. He was heavy, but I didn't mind.

Somehow I sensed that this was just the beginning, and it was. He did me twice more, once in the ass (he said he'd never done that before) and once in sixty-nine position, where he must have gotten a good view of the cavity out of which he had come into this world twenty-one years ago. Quite a moment for him--and for me!

Afterwards we just lay there. I didn't want to evict him from my bed, but felt I had to tell him something important.

"Dear, I think you need to leave me alone for a bit. I've had a long day. Twenty-five guys have invaded my body, and I'm pretty tired. So I'd like a long nap. Afterwards, I'll get up and cook us up a nice dinner. Okay?"

"Okay, Mom," Barry said, giving me one final kiss on the mouth and one final squeeze of my butt before he got up and let me rest.

Somehow I didn't think this would be the last time he'd be in my bed--nor his friends either. Even if my husband couldn't appreciate my charms, these appealing young men could!

THE END