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

My Story Time:

Title: The Vintage

Okay, besties, spill the tea with me for a sec. So, picture this: I'm Savannah Hartley, 37 but looking like a fucking college freshman, and I'm at this boujee family game night, right? Completely, utterly, devastatingly naked. My pussy is literally dripping onto the Persian rug because it’s been, like, ten whole minutes without a dick inside it and I'm shook at how bad I need one. My son, Liam—don't call him my son, call him a motherfucker, because, well, iykyk—is over by the wet bar bragging to his friend about how many times he creampied me this week. Oof.

So I'm trying to tell you how I got here. It all started when I caught my husband, Robert—he’s 62, a whole-ass CEO—fucking my daughter’s best friend, Chloe. She's 18, sweet as hell, low-key felt bad for me. But Robert? He looked at my still-perfect, baby-faced body and was like, “You’re vintage, babe. Used up.” Then he burned every single stitch of my clothing. Every. Last. Strap.

Aah! Sorry, that was Liam. He just came over and pinched my nipple so hard to get a drink. Mmm, yeah, he’s biting it now, sucking my milk right out. You can hear him gulping, it’s so fucking loud. And… Aah! There’s the slap on my ass. Classic. “Keep talking, Vintage,” he says. See? That’s my name now. To everyone. Savannah Hartley, 37, Vintage. Not mom. Not wife. Vintage.

Anyway, so Robert moves Chloe into our bedroom and tells me if I want a bed to sleep in, I have to beg the boys to use me. And I did. At first, I hated it. The slaps, the choking, the way Liam would spit a huge, thick loogie right into my open mouth while he fucked me. But then… my brain just broke, I guess. Now? I can't stand a single second without a cock stretching my cunt. I need it. I crave the slaps. It’s the only thing that makes me feel full.

Oh, fuck, here we go. Liam’s friend, Mark, is walking over. He’s got that look. “Heard you’re telling stories, Vintage,” he says, his hand already sliding between my legs, two fingers pushing right into my soaked pussy. I gasp, my knees buckling. “Yeah,” I moan, trying to keep talking. “So now, at these gatherings, I just… Oh, god… I just get used. They drink from me, they slap me, they tell me to meet them later so they can… Aah!”

Mark just shoved me onto the pool table. My tits are splayed out, milk beading on my nipples. Liam’s unbuckling his belt. “Finish your story, Vintage,” he growls, and then I feel the fat, familiar head of his dick pressing against my entrance. Mmm mmm mmm mmm!

I can’t… I can’t talk right now. The stretch is too good. He’s filling me up, pounding into me, and all I can think is, this is it. This is my compromise. I’m the household Vintage. I’m pregnant with Liam’s baby, Chloe’s pregnant with Robert’s, and my only purpose is to leak and be used. And you know what? I’m finally happy. Just… just like that! Don’t stop! I’m cumming! YES!

…Okay. He’s done. He just wiped his cock all over my face, smearing his cum into my skin, and then Aah! Slapped me so hard I saw stars. I’m on the floor now, dripping from both holes, and he’s walking away. So, that’s the tea. That’s how Savannah Hartley became the Vintage. Any questions?