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

My Story Time:

Alright, besties, buckle up because I have to spill some absolutely unhinged tea. So, there I am, “Petunia” – yeah, that’s the degrading cutesy-floral name my ex-husband Gregory, who’s like 62, decided on after he traded me in for my son’s childhood crush, Chloe. I’m 37 but look 18, and I haven’t worn a stitch in years. No cap.

This particular night, Gregory was hosting one of his “private gatherings.” He and Chloe were going at it on the main couch, all lovey-dovey and whispering “I love yous” while he fucked her missionary. Iconic, right? Meanwhile, my role was… different.

I was on all fours on the rug, being spit-roasted by two of Gregory’s business associates. One guy, Marcus, was ruthlessly fucking my throat, his dick hitting the back so hard I was gagging, tears and spit running down my face. The other, David, was taking me from behind, his cock slamming into my pussy bareback, his hands spanking my ass so hard it was definitely turning red. “Such a good little cum dump,” Marcus grunted, pulling out just to slap my face with his dick before shoving it back in.

Then my own sons, Jake and Liam, walked over. Jake grabbed my hair, yanking my mouth off Marcus. “Our turn,” he said, no warmth in his eyes. Before I could even gasp for air, Liam’s cock was in my mouth, and Jake positioned himself at my cunt. They fucked me in unison, hard and angry, like they hated me. Jake choked me with one hand while he pounded, his other hand pinching and twisting my nipple until a stream of breast milk shot out. Liam leaned down and bit the other, sucking hard as he face-fucked me.

“Gonna breed this old pussy again,” Jake snarled, and I felt his cock pulse as he came deep inside me, filling my womb. Liam came next, flooding my throat. As they pulled out, they both wiped their messy cocks over my face, marking me, before delivering two sharp, final slaps that made my ears ring. “Disgusting,” Jake said, walking away to watch Chloe and dad.

I just lay there, used and dripping, my mind blissfully empty except for the addictive ache. OOF. The irony? High-key, I was already craving the next dick. Sheesh. Period.