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

My Story Time:

Okay, bestie, let me spill the tea about the absolute dumpster fire that is my life right now. So, my husband, Charles—he’s 62, I’m 37, but look, I still get carded, no cap—caught me crying over finding his texts with our family friend, Chloe. She’s 18, and they’ve been fucking for months. I was like, “Charles, what the actual fuck?” He just sighed, all calm, and was like, “Veronica, you’re too old. It’s over.” Then, while I was sobbing in just a towel after my shower, he took it. He took everything. My robe, the clothes laid out on the bed, everything from my closet. He donated it all online, said it was for a “good cause.” He told everyone, including our sons, Mason and Liam, to only call me “Yesteryear” from now on. So, yeah. I’m just… Yesteryear. A fully naked, walking, talking monument to being chronologically “used up.”

The mind-fuckery is next level. Charles is head-over-heels for Chloe, like, they’re constantly whispering “I love you” while he fucks her on the kitchen island. And he’s made it my new job to get pregnant. Constantly. “You need to keep producing milk for the household, Yesteryear,” he said, all business. “The boys have needs. Other men have needs. Let them use you.” So now, my own sons don’t see their mom. They see a free-use hole. Last night, I was shivering, trying to sleep on the bare living room floor. Mason, my 19-year-old, walked by. I begged him, “Please, just let me sleep in your bed for warmth.” He looked down at me, his dick already hard, and just nodded. The price was his body pounding into mine. He slapped my face, called me Yesteryear, and choked me while his cock destroyed my pussy. He came deep inside, breeding me, then rolled over and fell asleep with it still in me. I could feel his warmth, and I cried, but my traitorous body… it felt so full.

It’s not just them. Charles hosts these “parties.” Chloe is the treasured guest of honor, getting spit-roasted by Charles and his friends lovingly. I’m the party favor. Last week, three of his business associates surrounded me. One shoved his cock down my throat while another took my pussy from behind, ramming into me. They’d pause to suck the milk straight from my tits, biting my nipples, then go back to fucking. I was just a gasping, gagging, milk-dispensing toy for them to use and refill. They all came inside me, one after the other, painting my insides with their cum. When they were done, one of them shoved me to the floor with his foot and left me there, dripping and used.

The crazy part? I think I’m breaking. The other day, I saw Mason stressed about school. My mind just… went there. I crawled under the table where he was studying, took his soft cock in my mouth, and started sucking. He tried to stay composed, but I looked up and whispered, “What’s wrong? Is your little dick sad Mommy’s ‘too old’ for you now?” That did it. He snarled “Yesteryear!”, slapped me so hard I saw stars, dragged me to his room, and fucked me with a rage that made my toes curl. After he creampied my cunt, he wiped his messy cock all over my face and slapped me again. And the sickest part? I’m already craving the next time. My pussy gets wet just thinking about it. Chloe sometimes mouths “sorry” to me while Charles fucks her, and Charles, in a weird way, is my friend again. We joke. I’ve even embraced it. I told him, “At least ‘Yesteryear’ is a classic, right? Never goes out of style.” He actually laughed. So here I am, pregnant again, my belly starting to swell alongside Chloe’s, but mine’s just a milk-making project. My body isn’t mine anymore. It’s just a vessel for cum and milk, and honestly? I’m low-key addicted to the feeling of being completely, utterly used.