Wednesday morning opens like any other day, with a quiet sense of continuity, of monotony. The first light of dawn spills across the sky, casting a soft glow on the earth as the sun rises. Roosters crow (not around here, but somewhere they do), their familiar call marking the start of another day. All around, the world's phones sound with their cheery alarms, pulling people from their dreams into the rhythm of daily life. In this subtle orchestration, the pulse of routine beats steadily, unnoticed, yet essential. This accepted routine of morning commences. Life begins again, as it always does, with quiet determination and the gentle hum of possibility. It's poetic.
Except this Wednesday morning, for me, there's a difference. As I slowly wake, I'm hurting, aware of an ache through my body, the kind that comes after a long, fulfilling day of effort. It's as if I've run a marathon, two marathons, not out of necessity but out of lust and passion. Every muscle is a little sore, each movement a reminder of the day before, but there's a warmth in the fatigue. A warmth from inside my loins emanating through the rest of my body.
The sun filters through the curtains, the familiar sounds of the world waking up around me, no roosters, but the usual sounds of the neighborhood outside. Today, they feel different, more vibrant, as if the universe itself is cheering me on. My body might be tired, but it's a contented kind of tired, the kind that signals accomplishment, enlightenment, and a new me. There's a joy in the weariness, a sense of having lived, and I know that despite the lingering ache, and believe me, there is a hell of an ache, today holds new possibilities. With a deep breath, I rise, ready to take on whatever comes next, knowing that this exhaustion is the start and if I want to do it again, and boy do I want to do it again, I have to get better prepared for it.
Tuesday had been wild. I had fucked the Amazon delivery driver, Nathan, multiple times. He had fucked me multiple times. His cock was wide and huge. He pounded me, he stretched me, he filled me, he worshipped me. I rode him, I sucked him, I milked him, I explored him, I adored him. It was the most rampant sex of my life. And then I looked after my son, Daniel. Because a mother will do anything for her son. He fucked my mouth, and my pussy, with his long cock. Longer than Nathan's. Choking me, Controlling me and using me. He smashed his cock deeper than I ever thought possible, both of us cumming multiple times, him in me, over me. I left his room on all fours, unable to walk after the two cocks of two men half my age had exhausted my body. A body in pieces, but happy, content, amazed.
So Wednesday was going to be tough.
I hadn't had the energy to shower after Daniel, so that was the day's first task. Peering in the bathroom mirror, my hair was matted from semen, I don't know who's. Crusty remains on my breasts. I smile with the memory of Nathan exploding all over my tits. The image of his wide penis enters my head, making my pussy tense and ache all over again. I struggled to take him at first he stretched me so wide. I trace the remains down my stomach and thighs. My neat pubic hair is more matted than the hair on my head, from my own juice and that of the boys.
I sit on the toilet and feel a burn as I pee. The pounding, the width, the length. The boys leaving me, mixed in with everything else.
Tentatively, I got in the shower and washed them all away. Carefully touching my large breasts that were still sensitive to the touch. Feeling the red marks on my peach-like ass (Daniel's words, not mine) where he had slapped me while fucking my pussy. Cleaning the remains from my thighs delicately as my long leg muscles complained when I stretched them.
Then, wrapping myself in a towel, I moved from the shower to the bath, running it hot. I cleaned my teeth while I waited. Even my mouth ached from the ferocity and girth. I'm too old for this, I think to myself. I spit the toothpaste out into the basin.
"Never!" I say to myself, glancing in the mirror again. "You're a MILF!" I smile. I'm still content, still happy.
I slip into the bath and breathe. My knotted muscles slowly relax. I top up the hot water a few times, savoring the time and the effect of the warm blanket of water around me. Through the ripples and oils thst swirl in the water I see my body anew. My large breasts are full and firm, with large nipples and dark areola. I've always known they are large, but never seen them as sexy, fuckable. My flat stomach flows down to shapely hips, that I didn't realise accentuate my peach of an ass. I explore my pussy with my eyes and my fingers. The boys loved it. I'd never been kissed there before, let alone what Daniel and Nathan did down there. It's sexy. I have a lovely pussy. I trace a finger along my thighs. They are tanned and toned. I'd seen them as just legs until yesterday, today they are powerful weapons.
Eventually, I pull myself out of the bath, my muscles still aching but dulled from the water and oils. I search for some underwear that make me feel sexy. I find a delicate floral lace set with sheer panels across the front and back, lace details down both sides and across the top of the bra. They are buried at the bottom of the drawer; they don't get worn very often.
Add that to the list, Maggie. Things to do, things to buy. You are a MILF now.
Standing in my underwear, moisturising,
drying my hair, putting on make up, I feel wonderful. I feel empowered.
I then hunt through to find a casual, yellow floral, summer jam dress with a fitted bodice and flared skirt. Spaghetti straps and, I believe it's called, a sweetheart neckline. A small tie detail at the center gathers the material at the bust, enhancing the considerable breasts I just discovered I possess. The hemline sits well above the knee, enhancing those long legs. I've not had the confidence to wear it before. You know, one of those purchases you make thinking you are younger than you are. It's lightweight, breezy, and there's lots of exposed flesh--a little daring for a five-foot-nine, forty-three-year-old. I add a couple of bracelets and some dangly earrings.
My aim is to walk confidently downstairs, but my body says otherwise. My muscles, inside and out, tell me to take it slowly.
I pause on the landing, listening to see if there is any noise from Daniel's room. There is nothing.
Each step on the stairs reminds my pussy of the cocks that were pounding it yesterday. But each step also reminds my face of the same thing, and by the time I reach the hallway, I am almost laughing through the enjoyment of the memories. Laughing at myself, the older woman taking on these young bucks.
A little later, Daniel skips down the stairs as I finish a coffee and some breakfast. Unlike me, his body seems fresh, with no signs of the previous day's exertions. He's wearing an oversized sports shirt and baggy shorts. It hides the great body underneath, but what do I know? Fashion is fashion.
"Morning, darling."
"Morning, Mom. You look nice."
I'm sitting on the stool at the kitchen island; my dress does little to cover my thighs and gives more than a hint of my buttocks.
"Thanks, I'm popping to the mall; I thought I'd make an effort"
"Yeah, real nice." He scans me up and down before walking over to the fridge.
"Can I get anything for you while I'm out?"
"All good, thanks." He pulls the milk carton from the fridge door and gulps directly from it. He knows I hate it when he does that, but I don't care right now.
He replaces it and searches the fridge for some food. His hand appears with a carton of mixed melon, which he proceeds to pop into his mouth; again directly from the carton. Another pet hate, but not today.
"Okay, I'll be out for most of the day. There's plenty of food in the fridge if you get hungry."
I slip myself off the stool. I'm sure I see a slight smile as he notices the grimace and my delicate movements.
I rinse out my breakfast things and place them in the dishwasher. Bending over to do so gives Daniel a great view up my dress. He doesn't rise to it. Well, I hope part of him rises to it, but I stroll away without another glance at him.
***
Based on what I consider mandatory new attributes for the new me, to keep up with these young stallions and not forget about Phil, my husband, the plan at the mall is four-fold. I need to get fitter. Some small weights I can use around the house to exercise, I can't genuinely feel like this the day after, every time I see the boys. Sexier underwear and clothing generally. Today's search proved that I need a new wardrobe to start thinking I'm sexy again. Yes, it won't stay on for long, but let's excite them. Phil can also benefit here too. I've decided I won't hide the new me from him; just some of the reasons for it. Next, some toys. Some sex toys. I have a small vibrator, but I want to try things I've never tried before; things I've never had the courage or the man to try them with. Last on my list, and not entirely related to the sex, I will have a nice lunch and enjoy the day. The renovation of the house can wait a day.
