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

My Story Time:

(Story Title: Old Rag)

Okay, so, spill the tea. My name is Chloe Finch. Well, was. Now everyone, including my own kids, just calls me Old Rag. Iconic, right? I’m 37, but I still look 18, no cap. My husband, Marcus Blackwood—he’s 62, we met when I was 16, it’s a whole thing—caught me crying about his affair with Lily, our 18-year-old neighbor. The one I used to call my “future daughter-in-law” for my son, Jake. Yeah. Big yikes.

He wasn’t even mad. Just… cold. He was like, “You’re too old, Chloe. Chronologically. A used-up rag.” Then he took all my clothes. Every. Single. Piece. I was just out of the shower, totally naked, and he just… took the towel. Sold my entire wardrobe online. So now I’m just… Old Rag. Permanently naked. My toddler’s still nursing, so my tits are full of milk, and that’s all I’m good for now.

The mind-break happened fast. Minutes after I was stripped, my son Jake, who’s 19, just walked in. He looked at my naked body, my face wet with tears, and his eyes went dead. He didn’t see his mom. He slapped me, hard, across the face. “Shut up, Old Rag,” he grunted, and pushed me onto the cold kitchen floor.

It wasn’t sex. It was punishment. He yanked my legs apart and shoved his cock into my dry pussy with no warning. I gasped, trying to hold in the scream, but he choked me with one hand and pounded into me with the other. “Moan for me, you worthless slut,” he hissed, slapping my tits. The sting mixed with the brutal stretch of him, and against my will, a broken moan tore out of me. He bit my nipple, and a jet of warm breast milk shot into his mouth. He drank it greedily, never slowing his thrusts. “That’s all you’re for,” he growled, before slamming his cum deep inside my cunt. He finished by rubbing his dripping cock all over my face, marking me, then slapped me again and left me there, leaking his seed and my milk onto the tile.

That was just the beginning. Now, it’s my whole life. I’m addicted. I crave the slaps, the choking, the feeling of being utterly used. I’ll do anything for a cock inside me. Sometimes, to tease Jake, I’ll wait until he’s on a serious Zoom call for college, then crawl under his desk and take his soft dick into my mouth. He’ll try to keep his composure, but I suck him hard, my mouth watering. The second he’s off, he drags me up, slaps me for humiliating him, and fucks my throat until I gag, then flips me over and breeds my pussy all over again. After, he always wipes his cum on my face and gives me one last slap. “My personal Old Rag,” he’ll say, and I just… thank him.

Meanwhile, Marcus and Lily are genuinely in love. They fuck passionately in our old bed, whispering “I love you”s while I’m on my knees in the corner, getting spit-roasted by Marcus’s business partners. Lily mouths “sorry” to me between her moans. The irony? Marcus divorced me for being a slut… after he made me one. Now, my only purpose is to get knocked up so the whole household—Marcus, Jake, even Lily’s dad—can drink my milk straight from the tap. I’m just the household milk cow. A pregnant, cum-drenched, naked Old Rag. And honestly? I’ve never felt more alive.