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

My Story Time:

Alright, besties, time to spill the tea on how I, Sloane Gallagher, became the household… let’s just call me ‘Old News’. No cap, the name is iconic AF and fits, because even though I look 18, my own husband, Robert—who’s like, 58, btw—decided I was ‘too old’ when he started fucking my son’s childhood crush, Chloe. She’s 18, still in high school, and the love of his life. After I confronted him? He burned every stitch of my iconic mini-skirts and heels. Said, “If you’re going to be obsolete, you might as well look the part.” So here I am, permanently naked.

So, I’m at this family game night, right? Robert and Chloe are cuddled up on the love seat, and I’m just… here. My son, Ethan—my oldest—has his hand casually shoved between my legs, two fingers working my clit while he talks to Uncle Greg about football. My pussy is dripping, okay? I haven’t had a dick inside me for a whole hour and I’m literally shaking.

“So anyway,” I try to continue telling our new neighbor, Mark, my story. “Robert made it clear my only purpose now was to get pregnant and keep producing milk for everyone.” Ooh, shit—Ethan just pinched my nipple hard, a sharp twist that makes my milk spray a little. “See?” I gasp, my tits aching. “The household milk dispenser.”

My daughter, Britney, scoffs from the armchair. “Stop calling her ‘Mom’, Mark. She’s ‘Old News’. She serves us. Learn from this. Don’t end up a used-up slut nobody wants except to drain your tits and fuck your loose cunt.” She says it so casually, like she’s reciting a recipe.

Ethan leans in, his breath hot on my ear. “I’ve creampied this whore seventeen times this month,” he brags to Mark, his fingers pushing into my wetness. “Aren’t you, ‘News’?” Aah! He slaps my ass so hard the sting radiates up my spine. “Meet me in the garage after this. I need to fuck some sense into you.”

I moan, my hips bucking against his hand. “Y-yes, you motherfucker—” SMACK! His palm cracks across my cheek, the taste of copper filling my mouth.

“I’m not your mother,” he snarls, his dick visibly hard against his jeans. “I’m the guy who owns this pussy.” He spits a thick, nasty loogie right into my open mouth. I choke, swallowing it down, the gross, salty flavor making my cunt clench. It’s the closest I get to a kiss anymore.

I turn back to Mark, tears and spit on my face, my body on fire. “And that’s the tea,” I whisper, my voice shaky. “I’m just ‘Old News’. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my son needs to use me in the garage.” My story time is over. The fucking is about to begin.