All participants are over eighteen or middle-aged women. No real warnings, though there is a graphic depiction of double pussy penetration.
Saturday -- Into the Fairy Circle
My friends' moms came to pick them up in the morning. The boys were obviously tired but happy, having changed clothes and showered with the help of Anna and my mom. Their moms were all totally fuckable. I'd eaten out Alan's mom, Joyce, of course, and had technically fucked her, though not as hard as I would have liked. Ricky's mom was a tanned blonde who smoked, leaving her with a more aged face but a tight body. Billie's mom was also blonde but more plump. Christian's mom had a face like a hawk and shared her son's dark blue-black hair. I'd given them all instructions to meet in a few hours at one of the local parks, in a big field, reachable by a short hike. They needed to bring clothesline, dish towels and any wooden or plastic melee weapons they had. I'd told the women that we would be playing "Roman Gladiators" but nothing more than that and left them with the impression that it would be a great mother-son bonding activity so no other family members needed to come.
I went straight to the park with instructions to my mother, whose body was quite bruised, to bring our rope, towels and weapons in the car in a couple of hours. Going for a run felt great in the morning. It was kind of misty and the droplets of water felt good on my face. When I got to the park, I ran up to the open field. There was a point when I was hit with a wave of...something... in the face and gave me a huge hard-on. I looked around and found the mushrooms. They were small but definitely formed a circle where I felt the power. In the center was a pole. It looked like a pole for power lines, bare of its burden but older; however, I imagined that nobody in the parks department would be able to tell me why it was here. I resolved to return on May Day and possibly that night.
I took some stakes, ten of them, and put them around, just inside the circle, trying to keep them equally spaced. About that time, the fog started to roll in in earnest, just as the others arrived -- my mom, my four friends and their moms. My hard-on was humming and my balls were burning and, well, I could see through the mist easily while they commented how they couldn't see to the other side of the circle. At the pole, Alan and I discussed the rules, in general, for the group, supported by our moms. Nobody objected but took their bit of rope and two dish towels and went to their respective stakes, talking about how they couldn't see the next stake down. At my stake, I dropped my pants and doffed my shirt -- I'd already taken off my shoes -- and put on my rope and dish towels, the front tenting from my half hard cock - the limpest I could get it. I could see everybody around the circle doing the same, the boys just piling their clothes by their stakes and their moms carefully folding their own -- except Ricky's mom; she didn't seem to care and also lit a cigarette once she was dressed in her rope and towels, the burning ember red in the mist.
We returned to the center. All of the participants had acquiesced so there were young men wearing only loincloths, their thin chests pale in the mist, all of us sporting obvious hardons. And there were middle-aged women also only in loincloths, their hips visible on either side, their asses pushing the backs out, and their bare breasts visible, nipples obviously hard in the chill air. My mom's bare flesh -- tits, back, ribs, and neck - were all bruised, and there were lines of bruises around her wrists and ankles. Some of the other women obviously took note but didn't say anything. Nor did they say anything about their sons' hardons.
Alan, his mom, my mom and I instructed the rest of the group in the rules: best two out of three hits -- this is how you swing a wooden sword or a padded axe or thrust with a blunt spear. With so many of us, we decided that we needed to start with teams and went to mothers vs. sons. It seemed unfair to make each mother fight their own son, so we stated that was against the rules -- instead, fight somebody not related to you. And, they would be duels. Once two people started fighting, they would just fight each other. We each went back to our stakes and called out we were ready -- the words echoing in the mist. I called "Start!" and the rest proceeded to move in warily, unable to see their opponents. For my part, with my sight, I went straight for Billie's mom, named Julie. I just couldn't resist those curves for some reason -- not fat, she had the biggest ass and the biggest tits in the group.
I approached the blonde and stomped my feet when I got close. She turned around and raised her weapon, a big two-handed hammer, made out of cushioned canvas that one can buy at certain hobby stores. I recognized it as Billie's. Across the circle, he was using a sword and shield against Alan's mom. He hadn't made the best choice for his opponent. I was surprised as his mom, Julie, blonde hair flying, swung the hammer around in a vicious strike, smiling as she did it. She looked like a female viking warrior wielding it, her huge tits swinging along with her body. Having to step back to keep from getting hit, I then stepped in and whipped my two-handed sword around to strike that big ass. It gave off a "thwack!" and she arched her back and squealed, then let go of her hammer with one hand to rub her ass. Finally, she remembered to say, "Point!" Her next attack was overhead, throwing her whole body into it. At one point in the strike, her chest was far in front of the rest of her. I blocked it with the sword but it slid off and still hit me in the shoulder. So I had to yell "Point!" myself. I was pretty upset at that and, when she was ready, stepped in quickly, grabbed her arm and slammed my sword against her big left tit. It actually made her eyes water and, as I drew back to hit again, she yelled "Point!" with a panicked sound. We both relaxed and walked back to the pole at the center, me complimenting her on her bold combat style.
