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

My Story Time:

Okay, so, buckle up besties, because I need to spill the tea on the absolute dumpster fire that is my life right now. My name is Amelia, but literally no one calls me that anymore. After I walked in on my husband, Gregory – who’s, like, thirty years older than me, a whole story for another day – fucking our son’s childhood friend, Chloe… yeah, my whole world yeeted itself out the window.

Gregory didn’t even yell. He just looked at my 37-year-old-but-still-looks-18 ass and was like, “You’re chronologically ancient, Amelia. Used up.” Then he took all my clothes. Every. Single. Stitch. While I was just standing there, naked and shook from my shower. He burned them in the backyard. Said from now on, everyone would call me “Yesteryear.” As in, past her prime. The irony is NOT lost on me, considering I’m literally always dripping with cum now.

So now I’m “Yesteryear,” a fully naked, walking milk bar and fuck-toy in my own home. Gregory moved Chloe, who’s 18, into our old bedroom. I hear them every night, him whispering how perfect his “teenager” is. Meanwhile, my own sons, Liam and Noah, stopped calling me mom the second my clothes hit the fire. That same day, Liam cornered me in the kitchen. He didn’t say a word, just slapped me hard across the face, shoved me over the counter, and fucked my pussy raw from behind. It was so rough, I couldn’t breathe. He came deep inside me, choked me until I saw stars, and then slapped me again before walking away. “Move your shit into my room, Yesteryear,” he said. “You can sleep there if you earn it.”

So that’s my life. I beg to sleep in his bed for warmth, and the price is his cock pounding into me every night. He falls asleep with it still buried in my cunt. I’m constantly pregnant, my tits always full of milk for anyone to drink. Gregory hosts these parties where Chloe is the cherished main event, and I’m the free-use side piece for all his friends. They spit-roast me, slap my tits, bite my nipples until they bleed milk, and always, always creampie me. The only thing I wear is layers of their drying cum.

My mind… broke. I don’t even try to hold in moans anymore. I crave it. The other day, I saw Liam giving a presentation on a video call for his college class. I crawled under his desk and took his soft cock into my mouth, right there on camera. I sucked him hard, listening to his voice strain. The second he ended the call, he dragged me out by my hair, slapped me so hard my vision blurred, and fucked my throat until he came, making me swallow every drop. “That little dick you birthed isn’t so little anymore, is it, Yesteryear?” he growled, rubbing his cum-covered cock all over my face before another stinging slap. And honestly? It was the best I’d felt all week.

Chloe tries to be kind. She mouths ‘sorry’ to me when Gregory is pounding her on the living room couch while I’m getting gangbanged on the floor. She convinced Gregory to let me join family game nights, even though I’m naked and the boys casually grope my pussy between turns. We’re both pregnant now—her with Gregory’s love child, me with… probably Liam’s or some stranger’s. She gets a baby shower. I get a rough fuck against the wall because my milk supply was looking low. I’ve accepted it. I even make jokes about my title. “What’s old is new again,” I’ll say with a wink, right before someone slaps my ass and tells me to go make a sandwich. It’s not a life. It’s an existence. And I’m, high-key, addicted to every degrading second of it.