My Steamy Story: Fully naked Wife narrates story describe...

My Story Time:

Okay, so, you want the full tea, bestie? Buckle up. I’m Daisy, or I was Daisy Miller. Now, everyone just calls me ‘Scrap.’ Iconic, right? Because my ex-husband, Robert—he’s like, 62, I’m 37 but look 18, no cap—said I was ‘too old’ and ‘used up.’ The irony is chef’s kiss, because here I am, permanently naked, my pussy constantly dripping, literally addicted to getting railed.

So, I’m at this ‘family’ game night, right? Robert and his new wifey, Chloe—she’s 19 and glowing, we’re both pregnant, hers is from love, mine is from… other things—are cuddling on the couch. I’m on the floor, fully naked, trying to tell you how I got here.

“So, after Robert took all my clothes and donated them—some creep is probably jerking off into my old blouse right now—my own sons, Jake and Ben, started using me. At first, I hated it, but then… Mmm, ooh, aah!”

Sorry, Ben just reached over from the armchair and slid two fingers right into my soaking wet cunt. He’s not even looking at me, just playing on his phone. My clit is throbbing, begging for a cock. I’m leaking slick all over the rug. “See?” I gasp, trying to keep going. “That’s the addiction. I can’t stand a single second without something inside me. Not. One. Second.”

My daughter, Ashley, smirks and leans down. “Stop whining, Scrap. You’re here to serve.” She pinches my nipple, hard, and a thin stream of my breast milk squirts out. Ben chuckles and puts his mouth over it, drinking deep while his fingers keep pumping my pussy.

“Anyway,” I moan, my hips rocking against his hand. “They broke my mind. Now I’m just their free-use slut. A motherfucker’s personal cocksleeve.” Aah! See? I called him that, and Jake just slapped me right across the face from behind the couch. It stings, but fuck, it makes my pussy clench. “Told you,” I laugh, a little delirious. “He hates that joke.”

Robert, my kind ex, finishes his drink. “Scrap, make yourself useful. Chloe’s thirsty.” He nods to my other breast. Chloe gives me a sympathetic look but opens her mouth. I scoot over, letting her latch onto my nipple. She drinks my milk gently, so different from the boys who bite and leave marks.

As she suckles, Ben finally pulls his wet fingers out of me. The emptiness is agony. “Please,” I whimper, not even ashamed anymore.

Ben just smirks. “Later, Scrap. After the game.” He slaps my ass, a sharp crack that echoes. “I’ll fuck that desperate cunt until you can’t walk. Gonna fill you up again.” The promise makes my whole body shudder with need. I just lie there on the floor, milk dripping from one nipple, my own juices leaking from my pussy, surrounded by my ‘family,’ completely and utterly owned. And the worst part? I wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s the only thing I can feel anymore.