My Steamy Story: Sex with: Multiple men and one woman ...

My Story Time:

Okay, so, bestie, I need to spill the tea on how my life went from being Mrs. Evelyn Reed to... well, what it is now. It started when I caught my husband, Gregory—he’s 52, I’m 37 but, like, look 18, no cap—in our bed with Chloe, the 18-year-old who grew up next door and was low-key obsessed with our son, Liam. The confrontation was… iconic. I came out of the shower, totally naked, and found them. Greg didn’t even flinch. He just looked at my dripping body and was like, “You’re too old, Evelyn. Chronologically. It’s over.”

And then he took my towel. And every single item from my wardrobe. My clothes? Sold off to his buddies. He said from now on, everyone would call me “Yesteryear.” Because I’m supposedly a relic. The irony, since I’m standing here with this baby face and body, is not lost on me.

So now I’m “Yesteryear.” Always naked. My own sons, Liam and Noah, stopped calling me mom that same day. Minutes after Greg left me standing there, Liam—my firstborn—slapped me across the face. Hard. I gasped, and he just snarled, “On your knees, Yesteryear.” And I… I did. I took his dick in my mouth, tasting his anger, while Noah watched. That was the first time. They fucked me rough that day, taking turns, slapping my tits, choking me until I saw stars, and cumming deep inside my pussy. “Breed her,” Greg said from the doorway, holding Chloe’s hand. “We need her milk.” I was still lactating from our toddler.

It became normal. I’d beg Liam to let me sleep in his bed for warmth, and the price was his cock buried in me all night. I’d wake up with him already thrusting, or with his mouth on my nipple, drinking my milk in his sleep. My mind… it broke. But in a good way? The pain, the slaps, the feeling of being so full… I got addicted. I started craving it.

Now? I lean against Liam’s desk while he’s trying to game with friends online. I’m pregnant with his child—my belly is showing—and my tits are leaking. I sink down, take his hard cock out of his sweats, and swallow him whole. He tries to keep his voice steady for his teammates, but I deepthroat him, gagging loudly on purpose. “OMG, is that Yesteryear?” his friend crackles through the headset. Liam slaps my face—crack—and finally shoves his chair back. “Gotta go,” he grunts, and then he’s flipping me over the desk, his cock slamming into my dripping wet cunt from behind. “You’re such a fucking slut,” he growls, biting my neck. “Yeah,” I moan, “your slut. The one you came out of.” He hates when I say that. He fucks me harder, his balls slapping against my clit. I’m moaning, screaming, my milk spraying onto the floor. I can hear Greg and Chloe in the next room, her sweet moans of “I love you” contrasting with my guttural cries. He’s going to cum inside me again, and I can’t wait. This is all I think about now. Their cocks. Their cum. It’s the only thing that feels right.