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

My Story Time:

Alright, let's spill the tea, bestie. No cap, my life is a whole-ass movie, and not the rom-com kind. I’m Elara, but literally no one calls me that anymore. After I caught my husband, Gregory—he’s like, 62, I’m 37 but look 18, don’t @ me—banging our son’s childhood friend, Lily… yeah, that Lily, the one I used to call my future daughter-in-law? Iconic betrayal. He said I was “too old,” then took all my clothes and burned them. My new name? Crone. I shit you not. He calls me Crone. The irony, because my pussy is still tighter than a drum and my tits are full of milk for our toddler.

So now I’m just… Crone. Always naked. And my sons, Aiden and Ben, they don’t call me mom. The second my clothes were gone, Aiden just… walked up, slapped me across the face so hard I saw stars, and hissed, “On your knees, Crone.” And I… I did. I sucked his dick right there in the ashes of my favorite dress. He fucked my throat until I gagged, then bent me over the kitchen island and pounded my cunt raw. He came inside me, grunting about keeping me pregnant for the milk. Then he wiped his cock on my face and slapped me again. “That’s for being a useless old bitch,” he said.

And Gregory? He just watched with his arm around Lily, who was mouthing ‘sorry’ at me between her moans as he fingered her. He’s genuinely in love with her. It’s the wildest, most heartbreaking shit.

Now it’s just… normal. The boys use me whenever. They slap my tits, bite my nipples to drink my milk while they’re fucking me, and always, always finish inside. I’m just a warm hole to breed and a milk dispenser. My mind is so broken from the constant gangbangs at Gregory’s parties that sometimes, when Aiden is fucking me, I’ll gasp, “C’mon, motherfucker, is that all you got? I remember when that tiny dick slid out of my womb.” He hates that. Slaps me harder, chokes me until I black out, and creampies me deeper. After, he smears his cum all over my face as a mark, then delivers one final slap. “You’re not my mother. You’re just Crone.”

The only peace is when New Girl, sweet Lily, convinces Gregory to let me sit with them during movie night. I’m still naked, people still grope me and sip my milk from a glass, but we can kinda talk like friends. I even make jokes. “Pass the popcorn, Crone-style!” I’ll say, winking. Gregory actually laughs. It’s fucked up, but it’s my life. And honestly? My addicted, cum-drenched pussy wouldn’t have it any other way. Oof, gotta go—Ben just walked in with two of his friends looking thirsty. Time to be the communal drink.