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

My Story Time:

Title: The Cumrag

Okay, bestie, buckle the fuck up. I, Chloe Miller, am about to spill the most unhinged, twisted tea of my entire life. No cap, I’m still processing it.

So, picture this: I’m 37 but I look 18, right? Iconic genes, sheesh. My husband, Robert, is 62. We married when I was fresh out of high school, him a whole-ass grown man. We were happy, had a bunch of kids, and I was literally breastfeeding our toddler when I found the texts. He was fucking Lily, my son Ethan’s childhood sweetheart—the girl I used to call my “future daughter-in-law.” The betrayal was a whole-ass mood killer.

I confronted him in our bedroom, holding the baby. He just looked at me, all calm, and was like, “You’re too old, Chloe. Chronologically. It’s over.” Then he told me to strip. I was shook. I was like, “You’re joking.” He wasn’t. He waited until I was naked from my shower, took every single item from my wardrobe, and had our son, Marcus, burn it all in the backyard. He said from now on, everyone would call me “Cumrag.” My new name. My daughters laughed. Ethan just stared, his eyes dark.

That same night, Robert moved Lily into our room. I was shivering, standing there bare in the living room. Marcus, my 19-year-old, grabbed my arm. “You’re sleeping in my room, Cumrag. But it’ll cost you.” I knew what he meant. To stay warm, I had to let him use me.

The first time was… violent. He slapped me across the face so I wouldn’t look like his mom. “Open your whore mouth,” he grunted, shoving his dick down my throat while he played a game on his phone. I gagged, tears streaming, but he just choked me harder. “You love this, you old slut,” he hissed. Then he flipped me over, bit my nipple hard until my milk sprayed, and fucked my pussy raw from behind, pounding me into the mattress. He came inside me with a growl, then immediately slapped my ass. “Get on the floor. I’m done.”

That was just the beginning. Robert started hosting parties. Lily, the sweet girl, would be in the center of the room getting lovingly spit-roasted by Robert and some of his friends. Meanwhile, I was the free-use side piece. Men would line up. One would be fucking my throat, another ramming my cunt, a third slapping my tits and drinking my milk straight from the source. They’d all creampie me, one after another. The rule was to keep the cum on me—my new “clothes.” Robert would watch while kissing Lily, telling her she was his “perfect teenager.”

My mind broke. The pain blurred into this insane, addictive pleasure. I started craving it. I’d pull pranks. Once, when Ethan was giving a speech to his college friends over video call, I crawled under the desk and took his soft cock into my mouth. On camera. He tried to stay composed, his voice cracking, but I sucked him to full hardness. The second the call ended, he backhanded me, called me “Cumrag,” bent me over the couch, and fucked me so hard I saw stars. After he filled my pussy, he wiped his dick on my face and slapped me again. “That’s for embarrassing me, you addicted bitch.”

And he was right. I am addicted. Now, Lily’s pregnant with Robert’s baby, her belly all cute and celebrated. My belly’s swollen too, but with Marcus’s or some random party guest’s kid. It’s just a milk factory to them. Robert divorced me out of “disgust” for being a gangbang slut… the gangbangs he orders. The irony is so spicy it burns.

But, plot twist? Lily convinced Robert to be… nicer. Now we have family game nights. I’m still naked, still called Cumrag, and the men still grope me and drink from my tits while they brag about how many times they’ve creampied me. I just laugh and make a joke: “What can I say? This Cumrag’s always ready for a load.” It’s fucked up. But it’s my life. And my pussy literally drips 24/7 thinking about the next dick. So, yeah. That’s my tea. It’s bitter, it’s rancid, but it’s mine. Period.