Toodles. Soccer Mom II A continuation of YW 1064
by Titslave (Written exclusively for Dark Wanderer)
[This story will be less than meaningful unless you first read, or go back and re-read, Story YW 1064 in the YW collection of Dark Wanderer stories]
Of course the encounter between the boys and Vicki Gordon left her struggling with intense emotional cross-currents. In the endless days that followed her mind relentlessly tumbled over itself, pulling her back to the soccer field, to that evening of forbidden pleasure. She was feeling utterly overwhelmed, every hour of each day since her three soccer stars after practice had solicited her hugs, using that excuse to flirt with her and kiss her intimately, then responded to her teasing and thrilled her with their young pricks. She relived a thousand times the wicked way they had explored her body, and she grabbed and gobbled that fine fresh cock, and they had fucked her so hard while her husband back home was listening on the telephone, bewildered. She felt deep shame when she lay in bed with her husband Tim. The tempestuous passions took control of her body and then the shame descended on her.
Meanwhile Eric and Tony let it be known that there was this horny housewife with incredible tits who liked to have sex with them all at once. "C.J.'s mom sucked our cocks and let us fuck her, in her Explorer!" Eric told two track jocks he hung out with. "Yeah right," they groaned disbelievingly, shaking their heads. When it became apparent that her lovers might be telling the truth the questions came. "Does she have dark hair and a big ass, but great legs? She goes to your games?" one of them asked, eyes lighting up. "Yeah. She's our soccer mama," Tony said. "I've seen her at the running track in the morning," the track jock said. "She's incredible." Eric mockingly grabbed his friend by the collar, "We saw her first, dude."
She got phone calls from Tony and Eric several times. Hearing their voices made her pulse spike. With a pounding in her chest she said: "I can't talk to you." and "Don't call me ever again." For what was the final call she also put her foot down: "We didn't do what we did and if you tell others what we did you'll be sorry." Yet she found herself nervously eager to hear the phone ring during her long days alone.
The wall of resistance to the lust the encounter had fueled within her began to show cracks quickly - beginning with her morning shower. Her shower sessions expanded into exhibitionism running a little wild. Her husband Tim had noticed that, for the first time since they had married, she mysteriously waited until Tonya and he and left the house before she bathed. And he had commented on this change but heard no real reason.
When she had the house to herself each day she stepped into the bathroom and did a strip tease in front of the vanity, then touched herself, posing, sticking her chest out, turning her back to the mirror and playing with her ass and clitoris while she bent over. She shook her tits inside several revealing bras she bought and slowly moved her pants down her ass so that her pants clung to her smooth thighs, just below her buns. She set up mirrors she took from elsewhere and stood there for twenty minutes, imagining herself, in a dozen reflections, from many different angles, parading nude in front of the young men in her living room. In the shower she masturbated slowly, eyes closed, surrendering to the dream of their stiff pricks filling her mouth and pussy with abandon. When she came she cried out with a primal shriek that seemed to come from another creature.
Within three days after the encounter at the soccer practice she had gotten out the video camera and set it up in the bathroom, or the bedroom, always with mirrors, and rock music in the background.
Then, as if becoming two people, she would fall into a state of huge remorse. When she tried to be strong she resolved she could never see these young men again, unless with others around. She would be friendly at the soccer games but no longer go to the practices. There was to be a team banquet this weekend and she would help out with it. But there was to be no reprise with Eric and his two teammates, ever. It was out of the question. To prove to herself that she was determined she had not gone to the game last weekend, which surprised Tim. "C.J.'s coach called me at work. Wanted to know if you're mad at the team....three boys in particular were crushed that you didn't go," he said to her over morning coffee. "What's that all about? No victory hugs from you?" "It's not the same without C.J.," she offered.
During each long day after she had been with the boys she labored to hide from the endless cycle of memory, arousal and shame by trying to busy herself, by jogging, and by trying to be nicer to her husband. But her mind and body always went back to Eric, Tony and Kyle, and even beyond them, to other growing boys, any young, muscular, athletic men.
Her jogging came at a time when it was unseasonably warm. She started the morning after her encounter with the boys. She dressed very comfortably in thin, tight shorts and a jersey when she went out, heading for the high school track early in the morning. Tim and she had run together a few years back but now she wanted to run alone, to release the tension.
On impulse she stood in the hall by the front door and, for the second time that week, took off the sports bra that somewhat held her large breasts in place during her jog. She dropped it on the stoop and made her way to the high school track. It was a quarter mile rubber paved affair that ran around the perimeter of the football field. Two very fit high school guys who had noticed her were there, and one poked the other when she appeared. They greeted her and stared at her as she stretched. When she ran it felt so good to use her body, and she could feel their eyes riveted to her chest. She enjoyed the stares - in fact she required them. Her breasts were all over the place because there was absolutely nothing containing their very generous mass. I'll just play with these boys a little, she thought, like I did before the trouble started. It'll just be teasing, and I can get myself off with Tim.
The guys, standing in the field area in the middle of the track, turned as she did her first lap, never allowing her to leave their sight. After two laps and four eyes staring she stopped and walked over to them, waiting until she was near them to tuck in her jersey, sweat forming on it. "How long is this track? 1/4 mile?" she asked, noticing their arms and thighs admiringly. They were such young, smooth skinned men, and very confident in their stares at her body in return. "Yes ma'am. You come here often?" For some reason she said: "Do you want me to?" It surprised them and her, and when one said "well, yeah...", she said: "Run with me?" She found herself looking into their eyes for the longest time. The two jocks laughed nervously and joined her on the track, and made inane efforts at conversation but just kept checking her out. Vicki was getting hooked, more than ever, on being a sexual show-off. "Will you be here tomorrow?" they asked. "If you are," she laughed.
"I have to warm up with the bleachers," she said the next morning, as they ogled her, more brazenly. She jogged slowly to the top of the stands and then back down, her feet pounding on the aluminum frame, her unconfined tits wildly shaking in all directions. "Are you guys going to work out or are you just here to stare at my chest?" she smiled as she came down a third time. "Which would you prefer?" one of them said. "Well," she stopped halfway down, and stood erect, her arms akimbo, "a girl likes to feel pretty." "Hey, you got that locked," one of them said. The other said, "so you don't mind if we stare?" She ran back up again, her ass looking marvelously round as it rolled over her shapely legs. "Oh no, just so you know it's two way," she giggled, "don't be offended if I stare at your buns."
Tim came downstairs one of these mornings and noticed, when he got the paper, that her sports bra was on the front stoop. He held it in his hands and pondered what it was doing there. Then he looked down the street and saw her jogging toward him, about ten houses away, and even in the limited light of the early morning he was struck by how her boobs bounced wildly in the T-shirt she was wearing. Since when did she go out like THAT? Two young guys were running with her, practically falling over her or colliding with trees.
"Hi," she said to Tim as she got close to their driveway, a strange look on her face as she said good-bye sweetly to the others. "Oh, you're married," one of them said, smiling, eyebrows rising, his face turning to his companion. Her nipples were easy to make out through the sweat-soaked fabric. Her husband looked at her, saying nothing, and got ready for work.
At dinner on the fourth day after, he had gently interrogated her, once again, about the accident she had after soccer practice. "Am I under cross examination?" she laughed, looking at Tonya. "Well how come there were no marks on the Explorer?" he grinned slightly. He knows, she thought, as she said nothing and sipped her third glass of wine. It made her feel small to be grilled, and to have done what she did.
It was four days, one hour and fifteen minutes, since she had last seen her boys. She sat in the ****** room with her husband Tim, a fourth glass of white wine in her left hand and her right unconsciously caressing the skin above the cleavage of her red sun dress. She had changed into it after dinner, and now braless, made a point of jiggling, hoping he would notice. In fact all she had on was the thin, tight, low cut dress and high heels.
So now she sat with her husband, watching "Breaking Away" on the television. Tonya was asleep. Tim and Vicki had not made love since before the evening with her boys. This was a sad reality before; now it was enormously frustrating to her. Then, as they watched the movie in silence, came the scene at the quarry. The young men, later to bring the glory of winning the big bike race to the "cutters", were lounging on the rocks, talking, shirts off, and Vicki's eyes lit up. Dennis Quade smoked, naked from the waist up, and she was ready to pull her hair out. Her heart began to pound, her pussy moist. She turned to Tim and kissed him on the cheek twice, then began to kiss his ear and neck. She put her arm around him and licked his ear, then attacked his mouth with her horny tongue.
"Hey! Aren't we feeling romantic!" he laughed, slightly startled at her having this kind of aggression. For what was now years of habit he had fallen into a pattern of taking her sex for granted, secondary to his preoccupation with his career. Vicki's attack on him was definitely out of their implicit pattern of restricted, predictable, patterned lovemaking. She sensed his slight movement away from her, as if he were not merely startled but turned off by her overture.
She was breathing faster, heavier. Her fingers crawled to his lap, and found his penis. "How about you?" she moaned, rubbing it vigorously.
"But the curtain is open to the patio door. Prying eyes...." he said, starting to get up from the couch to close it. She held him down, "Don't worry about them, and forget the curtain," she said, looking lustily into his eyes. He was confounded by the words he was hearing. Normally she would not think of carrying on like this near a window open to the neighbors' view. Sex with her was lights out in the bedroom, always!
She stood up, facing her husband, and slowly dropped the straps on the sun dress. She leaned over toward him, and shook her shoulders, her very large breasts jiggling wildly, half spilling forward in his face. She took a step closer and pulled one of her massive tits out. For the first time since he had known her, Tim watched his bewitched wife pull the tit toward her mouth, then stretch her long tongue toward the hardening nipple. "How do you like me with nothing on underneath?" she sighed.
"Maybe we should turn the lights off," he droned, not as eager to do what he suggested. His eyes were utterly fixed on her teasing body. This was new, this was not Vicki. He felt like he had no control over this. "Oh, lights on, big boy," she said.
"Let's pretend I'm a nurse, a high school nurse," she said, turning, posing with her back to him, and hoping, as she did so, that someone was watching them. She rocked her hips to the right, then the left, and pushed the material of the dress into her ass crack, then played with her ass cheeks with both hands. She bent down more and pushed her rear end into his face.
"Huh?" he said, excited, getting hard, and taken aback by this display of lewdness.
She straddled his lap. "I'm the nurse and you're a high school boy with a problem. Let's give you a name, young man." She deep kissed him again. He hesitated. "Well this is different." "Do it," she said, pulling the other breast out and pulling her dress down to her waist. "Be a high school guy." He sighed. "John? Sean? Eric?"
"Eric!" she yelled. "Great choice." She pushed her tits into her husband's face and closed her eyes. "So Eric," she whispered, picturing her son's teammate's face, "what's the problem today? Why are you coming to see Nurse Vicki?" She wanted to lose herself in this compromise, indulging her hunger for boy dick by using Tim. It would help her stay out of trouble.
"I don't know," Tim laughed awkwardly, putting his hands around her breasts, "Why don't we just be us?" She persisted: "Eric, you say you have some discomfort in your crotch area?" Tim exhaled, uncomfortable with the role playing. "Let's go upstairs, honey." She stood up, removed her sun dress, and walked briskly to a full length, thin mirror sitting in the powder room. "Eric," she said, affecting the manner of a clinically trained health caregiver, "I think you should watch my examination of you so you can learn about your body. You're a high school senior and it's time you faced the pleasures of manhood that await you." Tim sat, nonplused, and watched his wife, jiggling, toting the mirror with a sense of urgency to a spot just behind her place in front of him.
He decided to humor her - his stiffening cock helped this decision - and said, in a lame imitation of a boy's voice, "should I pull my pants down, nurse?" She swayed her hips and cupped her breasts, pushing them together, looking at them admiringly, then looked down at him. "Yes, Eric, and quickly. I have other young men who are waiting to be examined." Tim laughed apprehensively, and exclaimed in his own voice, "Hey!" He undid his belt and, ass raised, pulled his pants and jockey shorts down to his knees. His penis was almost fully erect.
She began to stroke it. "Eric, I think this ache you have is coming from your genital area. I need to take a closer look." She begin to suck him off slowly, her eyes closed. She stood over him and bent completely over, one hand on his thighs so that, as he noticed through the mirror through her spread legs, she was fellating him and rubbing her pussy, an ass cheek spread. She licked the head of his prick hungrily. "Thank you nurse," he said, now fully aroused. He marveled at the sight in the mirror of her breasts hanging so deliciously as she sucked his cock. She then sat on his prick and said: "Oh, Eric, fuck me with your prick. You're such a sexy young man. Fuck me." She took charge of the screwing, making her big lucious ass rise and fall on his cock. Tim was mesmerized by the look of her butt pounding up and down on his dick. Within a few minutes she was fucking him uncontrollably, her mind lost in a fantasy with Eric, Tony and Kyle, and the two guys from the running k. Eric was on the field, lying on his back, and she was squatting over him, fitting his stiff cock into her pussy. The others stood around her, jacking themselves, waiting their turn. There were other people there, including her husband. As the fantasy took over she came suddenly, her cunt gripping Tim's cock. He had never known her to want to screw like this.
"I want to fuck all five of you," she moaned, as Tim came. She cursed at the quick climax he had and kept moving on top of his softening cock. She mashed her tits against his face. When it was clear that he was soft she fell exasperated on the couch and spread her legs. She pulled at her husband, her eyes glazed. "I'm so fucking hard up," she whimpered. "Please!" He reluctantly placed himself in her crotch and noticed how firmly, even desperately, she held his face at her vagina. "Lick my clit until you can get hard, Eric. Oh yeah, oh God. Don't stop." Her husband shuddered. Why would his wife say what she said in the heat of sexual passion? Could the role play go that far? Why was she still calling him Eric when she was about to have an orgasm? When she came the second time she buried her head in a pillow, at Tim's initiative, so that Tonya wouldn't hear.
Ten minutes into the afterglow he asked her about what she had said. "You said, 'I want to fuck all five of you'. What was that all about?" Did I say that?" she smiled, looking down at her breast. Feeling cornered, she said, after thinking, "oh I was just caught up in the role play, being the nurse and seeing you and other boys." Tim stared at her closely. "Sounds kinky. How long have you had this kind of - uh - scenario in your head?" She became defensive. "Oh I don't know. What's wrong with it?" He snapped: "I don't like having sex with my wife and hearing such stuff." "If it weren't for me we wouldn't have any sex," she said, about to cry. "Well if you want to talk like that when we're making love, you better see a shrink. It's a little odd. I can't get in the mood with that in the equation." He stood up and walked into the kitchen, turned off the lights, and went upstairs. She despised him for suggesting she see somebody.
With the light still on in the ****** room she sat, feeling emotionally distraught, then walked slowly to the patio door after she put the sun dress back on. The screen was open, and she stood and felt the breeze cool her damp crotch. She sat back down and put the movie back on, her hand unconsciously moving to her pussy. She moved her head back and sighed. This fantasy thing with Tim is definitely not going anywhere, she thought.
She reached into her handbag and got out her cell phone. She knew Tony's phone number from caller ID and decided she had to call him and assert herself again. She avoided the ****** phone because Tim might pick up on the extension and misunderstand what she was trying to accomplish; she found Tony's number near the kitchen phone..
To avoid making noise she walked out onto the patio as the number she called began to ring. "Hello?" a woman's voice answered. She slid the screen closed and gulped. "Is - uh - Tony there?" Vicki practically whispered. "Who's calling? It's late," the woman said, apparently Tony's mother. "Someone from school. I'm sorry to bother you at this hour," Vicki said. There was silence at the other end, then: "Are you a classmate of Tony's? You sound like you're out of high school" "Yes, we have classes together," Vicki said, cursing to herself that she sounded obviously adult. More silence. "Who's calling?" "It's Vicki," she said, holding her breath, raising the pitch of her voice. Another pause, then: "I'll get him."
Vicki sat down at their round metal patio table. The breeze felt good on her skin, which glowed warmly from the wine. "Hello?" Tony's voice made her squirm. She couldn't speak. "Hello?" he said again. "Tony? It's Mrs. Gordon, C.J.'s mom." She endeavored to make her voice sound lower, more solid.
He went to a whisper. "Hello! How are you? What a ---- surprise..." She cut him off. "Tony, I only wanted to call to tell you that I can't ever do that again with you and Eric and Kyle." She heard the uncertainty in her voice. Did he sense it as well? Does it sound like I'm reading off notes?
Tony was in his basement with Eric, shooting pool. He put his hand over the phone, and waved frantically to his friend. "It's her!" Eric frowned: "Who?" Tony's eyes widened as his head bobbed up and down, "HER!" They exchanged high fives.
She had gone on talking about the futility of any attempts to interest her in being together, so flustered and nervous that she was ******* he had said, "hang on" and put his hand over the receiver to talk to Eric. Then he came on in the middle of her monologue, "Vicki. Vicki. Relax. I'm glad you called. Eric is too; do you know he's right here?" His voice sounded so warm, so manly, so exciting.
Then Eric got on the phone. She closed her eyes when she heard him say: "How is the sexiest chick in town? We've been pretty mad you haven't wanted to talk to us."
She dug in her heels, and fought to maintain her composure. "Eric, look, I only called to say that --" He interrupted: "You want us. You need us." She stopped him: "No. Listen. That was one night. I was lonely. You had some fun. It's NEVER going to happen again."
"Why did you call us? You already said all this when you hung up on me yesterday," he laughed. "It's after 11:00. Where are you?" She turned and looked into the ****** room, concerned that Tim was out of bed and looking for her or calling from the stairs. "I'm at home, getting some air outside." "Vicki," he said, sounding sweet and sincere, "we're very unhappy. Every day is a bad day. Isn't that the same for you?" He heard nothing. He went on: "We don't want anyone else. Just you. Please." "No, sir," she finally pushed out of her mouth. Don't agree with me, she thought.
"Well we have to take this other guy, Reggie, home, then we're going out. We have told him what a beautiful and sexy chick you are. Why don't we stop by and you can tell us to our faces......If you dare." She almost yelled, then caught her voice from getting out of control. "Stop by? Now?" The thought of seeing them made her more nervous. He smelled a weakening housewife on the phone and took more initiative. "Sure. Then you can tell Tony and me you don't want us in your life." She couldn't talk. "Hello?" she heard him utter melodically. "I knew you were going to back down," he said. "Who's backing down?" she asked, irritated. "Well if you're definitely not our favorite chick any more the least you can do is tell us to our faces. You know what you mean to us. You're like a goddess" This little fucking sweet talker, she thought, smiling at his boyish brio.
"OK youngblood," she laughed. "I'm in my back yard. My address is -" "781 Kenilworth," he said, "I know it by heart." He smiled at Tony and held up his erect thumb high, Tony meanwhile telling the third boy, Reggie, all about it. "If this is what it takes to get through to you, and your persistent little friend Tony, then meet me in my back yard. I want to get this behind me and you're going to listen to what I have to say," she tried to sound formal, cold, brusque. "Park a few houses away and walk quietly," she added, "I don't want my ****** to hear." "Particularly Mr. Gordon. Five minutes," he almost whispered.
She pressed END on the cell phone and tipped into the house. Why hadn't she checked out her husband's status, asleep or awake, before she let them talk her into this? She walked quietly into their bedroom and heard him snoring softly. She turned and down in the kitchen wrote a note and placed it at the foot of the stairs: "WENT FOR A WALK."
She gulped the wine left in Tim's glass and put on, without thinking, the high heels she had worn after dinner. Nervously she ran to the powder room and primped quickly, brushing her hair, and put on fresh, shiny lipstick and cologne, and long, gold earrings. Frantically she found the belt for the sun dress and tightened it as far as it would go. The belt pulled snugly so that the top of the dress was in a tight profile.
She turned toward the patio door and there stood Tony, Eric, and a tall, very muscular boy of color. The sight of them standing on the patio, Tony's and Eric's noses against the screen, made her jump. She took a breath and felt a rush of desire at their presence. She could not stop her eyes from looking them over, and had they deliberately, strategically, worn no shirts? And on top of that they wore shorts that showed off their hunk legs? What babes they were. She summoned her strength as Tony opened the screen. Nobody said a thing.
She walked over, her eyes unable to meet theirs. She stared at their bodies. I can do this, she kept saying, I can get these guys out of my life.
But all she could say as her beautiful face stopped inches from his was "hi," and she smiled. "Hi," he said, his babycakes eyes penetrating her. She had missed them so much that the thrill of this moment pushed her mouth into his, for a wet, deep kiss. Eric pushed Tony out of the way and she pulled Eric into her arms, kissing him hard and hugging him almost violently.
She stepped out and closed the sliding screen. "Now wait," she said, breaking free and walking toward the chairs, arms folded protectively, she looking down at the ground. "We're not going to do this." She looked up at the third boy, a very handsome, very black youngster. She extended her hand and whispered, "so you're Reggie?" He kissed her hand as she sat down at a patio chair to get her bearings. "Pleased to meet you Vicki," he said, with an affectionate smile, as he looked her over in the light shining out from her home. "Or should I call you, Mrs. Gordon?" She watched him check her out and after a pause said: "Well I guess a handsome guy like you can call me whatever you want." "But a beautiful babe like you deserves to be treated like a classy young lady," he said, leaning toward her and laughing slightly. "Reggie," she said warmly, "you've been hanging with these Romeos too long."
She peered up at Tony with frustration. He was walking behind where she sat. She closed her eyes, waiting in suspense. She complained: "You could have worn shirts, you know. This is unfair." She sighed, afraid of the forces inside of her, which were similar to the currents of horniness that engulfed her last week, as she sat in the Explorer, hungry for cock. But now these currents were turning into a tidal wave. She looked back at Eric then felt Tony's strong hands on her bare shoulders. "OK, but not any lower," she protested. His fingers began to knead gently the area above her collarbone. "Now doesn't that feel good?" Tony said softly, watching her head drop with the intoxicating touch of his caress. He looked at Eric and Reggie and broke into an evil shit-eating grin, his cobra-like tongue wagging over her perfumed hair. She put her hands on his hands to keep them from moving, but they crept down her shoulders to arms and back up again. He whispered to her: "I have mi you so much. You're such a sexy chick. Our sexy soccer babe. You didn't come to the game Saturday and we played like shit." He kept on with his romancing: "God you're so beautiful. I need to hold you and feel your body. And you dressed tonight to show off your breasts and your legs. You dressed for us. Not your husband, for us. You've thought of us the whole time, haven't you?"
Vicki began to melt. Everything she heard was true. Her hands shifted from barriers to encouragers. Then Eric leaned against the table, facing her. He put his hand on hers, then began to caress her arm. Her head was beginning to swim, and Reggie's presence, rather than detract from a feeling of arousal, only aggravated the powerful force that was absorbing her.
Tony spoke louder, "So what did you want to tell us? 'I never want to see you again'?" He began to rub her neck and her shoulders, and slipped the straps off them. Eric pulled on her left leg and she didn't resist as he planted it on the table, high heel pointing to the stars. The dress fell down to her crotch. "Yeah, babe, tell us. We're here." "We're listening," Tony said. He put his nose in her hair and then began to kiss her cheek and lick her ear. He felt her breathing grow like crazy and he smiled. "Hey," Eric said in mock disappointment, "we rushed over here to get straightened out. Cat got your tongue?" His hands were exploring her leg, and she stretched her other long, shapely leg up into his lap, bending it at the knee, causing the dress to fall almost to her waist. She could not stop staring at his chest and his crotch. Eric's eyes widened at the sight of her naked pussy, on display as her dress slipped down.
Vicki was so overtaken by desire she hardly heard their banter. She snaked her arm around Tony's hip and deep kissed him, her fingers digging into his buttock. Eric was kissing her calves, and petting her thighs. "Do you guys think she's a good girl, with nothing on under that dress?" "She's a naughty girl," Tony said, his hands meeting no resistance as they cupped her breasts. "Hey Tony, " Eric whispered loudly, "show Reggie those big tits." Tony reached boldly down the top of her dress and pulled out her tits, holding up one at a time with his hands, dropping each of them on her chest, and smiling at Reggie. "You ever see tits this huge?" Tony said, mashing them together as Eric knelt down and began kissing and licking her thighs. Reggie laughed in wonder, "Wow. So at last I see them. Look at how wide those nipples are." Now Vicki squeezed them together and pulled one, then the other toward her mouth and Reggie walked around to be next to Tony. He stared lustfully a body.
Tony pulled his shorts down - he had nothing on underneath - and out sprang his painfully excited rod, which he pushed defiantly into and against her face. The sight of it completely erased any inhibitions she had, any thoughts about being good and denying herself this depraved pleasure. "So are you at least going to come to our games, Mrs. Gordon?" he said, slapping his very hard cock against her nose and mouth. "You told us never again, but you want some cock real bad, don't you Soccer girl?" Eric and Tony laughed, smiling fraternally at each other as she sighed in resignation, opened her wicked mouth as wide as she could, and felt the wonderfully hard meat of his fresh manhood ram into her, aimed at her eager throat. "We can't stay away, and you can't get enough of the younger generation, can you, Mrs. Gordon?" Eric said as he fingered her now wet vagina. "We can stop if that's what you want," he laughed. "But I think you want to fuck us." He buried his face in her p gazing past her trim tummy, in awe at her breasts, all her feminine charms, her long, curvy legs spread to either side of his head. Her free hand pulled him into her clit, then she swiveled her right leg up in the air so that she turned more toward Tony's cock and she could guide Eric's juicy fingers into her asshole. Vicki felt completely inflamed with passion. Her conflict over which way to go vanished. She had to have this every day, and there was no stopping her from getting it.
by Titslave (Written exclusively for Dark Wanderer)
[This story will be less than meaningful unless you first read, or go back and re-read, Story YW 1064 in the YW collection of Dark Wanderer stories]
Of course the encounter between the boys and Vicki Gordon left her struggling with intense emotional cross-currents. In the endless days that followed her mind relentlessly tumbled over itself, pulling her back to the soccer field, to that evening of forbidden pleasure. She was feeling utterly overwhelmed, every hour of each day since her three soccer stars after practice had solicited her hugs, using that excuse to flirt with her and kiss her intimately, then responded to her teasing and thrilled her with their young pricks. She relived a thousand times the wicked way they had explored her body, and she grabbed and gobbled that fine fresh cock, and they had fucked her so hard while her husband back home was listening on the telephone, bewildered. She felt deep shame when she lay in bed with her husband Tim. The tempestuous passions took control of her body and then the shame descended on her.
Meanwhile Eric and Tony let it be known that there was this horny housewife with incredible tits who liked to have sex with them all at once. "C.J.'s mom sucked our cocks and let us fuck her, in her Explorer!" Eric told two track jocks he hung out with. "Yeah right," they groaned disbelievingly, shaking their heads. When it became apparent that her lovers might be telling the truth the questions came. "Does she have dark hair and a big ass, but great legs? She goes to your games?" one of them asked, eyes lighting up. "Yeah. She's our soccer mama," Tony said. "I've seen her at the running track in the morning," the track jock said. "She's incredible." Eric mockingly grabbed his friend by the collar, "We saw her first, dude."
She got phone calls from Tony and Eric several times. Hearing their voices made her pulse spike. With a pounding in her chest she said: "I can't talk to you." and "Don't call me ever again." For what was the final call she also put her foot down: "We didn't do what we did and if you tell others what we did you'll be sorry." Yet she found herself nervously eager to hear the phone ring during her long days alone.
The wall of resistance to the lust the encounter had fueled within her began to show cracks quickly - beginning with her morning shower. Her shower sessions expanded into exhibitionism running a little wild. Her husband Tim had noticed that, for the first time since they had married, she mysteriously waited until Tonya and he and left the house before she bathed. And he had commented on this change but heard no real reason.
When she had the house to herself each day she stepped into the bathroom and did a strip tease in front of the vanity, then touched herself, posing, sticking her chest out, turning her back to the mirror and playing with her ass and clitoris while she bent over. She shook her tits inside several revealing bras she bought and slowly moved her pants down her ass so that her pants clung to her smooth thighs, just below her buns. She set up mirrors she took from elsewhere and stood there for twenty minutes, imagining herself, in a dozen reflections, from many different angles, parading nude in front of the young men in her living room. In the shower she masturbated slowly, eyes closed, surrendering to the dream of their stiff pricks filling her mouth and pussy with abandon. When she came she cried out with a primal shriek that seemed to come from another creature.
Within three days after the encounter at the soccer practice she had gotten out the video camera and set it up in the bathroom, or the bedroom, always with mirrors, and rock music in the background.
Then, as if becoming two people, she would fall into a state of huge remorse. When she tried to be strong she resolved she could never see these young men again, unless with others around. She would be friendly at the soccer games but no longer go to the practices. There was to be a team banquet this weekend and she would help out with it. But there was to be no reprise with Eric and his two teammates, ever. It was out of the question. To prove to herself that she was determined she had not gone to the game last weekend, which surprised Tim. "C.J.'s coach called me at work. Wanted to know if you're mad at the team....three boys in particular were crushed that you didn't go," he said to her over morning coffee. "What's that all about? No victory hugs from you?" "It's not the same without C.J.," she offered.
During each long day after she had been with the boys she labored to hide from the endless cycle of memory, arousal and shame by trying to busy herself, by jogging, and by trying to be nicer to her husband. But her mind and body always went back to Eric, Tony and Kyle, and even beyond them, to other growing boys, any young, muscular, athletic men.
Her jogging came at a time when it was unseasonably warm. She started the morning after her encounter with the boys. She dressed very comfortably in thin, tight shorts and a jersey when she went out, heading for the high school track early in the morning. Tim and she had run together a few years back but now she wanted to run alone, to release the tension.
On impulse she stood in the hall by the front door and, for the second time that week, took off the sports bra that somewhat held her large breasts in place during her jog. She dropped it on the stoop and made her way to the high school track. It was a quarter mile rubber paved affair that ran around the perimeter of the football field. Two very fit high school guys who had noticed her were there, and one poked the other when she appeared. They greeted her and stared at her as she stretched. When she ran it felt so good to use her body, and she could feel their eyes riveted to her chest. She enjoyed the stares - in fact she required them. Her breasts were all over the place because there was absolutely nothing containing their very generous mass. I'll just play with these boys a little, she thought, like I did before the trouble started. It'll just be teasing, and I can get myself off with Tim.
The guys, standing in the field area in the middle of the track, turned as she did her first lap, never allowing her to leave their sight. After two laps and four eyes staring she stopped and walked over to them, waiting until she was near them to tuck in her jersey, sweat forming on it. "How long is this track? 1/4 mile?" she asked, noticing their arms and thighs admiringly. They were such young, smooth skinned men, and very confident in their stares at her body in return. "Yes ma'am. You come here often?" For some reason she said: "Do you want me to?" It surprised them and her, and when one said "well, yeah...", she said: "Run with me?" She found herself looking into their eyes for the longest time. The two jocks laughed nervously and joined her on the track, and made inane efforts at conversation but just kept checking her out. Vicki was getting hooked, more than ever, on being a sexual show-off. "Will you be here tomorrow?" they asked. "If you are," she laughed.
"I have to warm up with the bleachers," she said the next morning, as they ogled her, more brazenly. She jogged slowly to the top of the stands and then back down, her feet pounding on the aluminum frame, her unconfined tits wildly shaking in all directions. "Are you guys going to work out or are you just here to stare at my chest?" she smiled as she came down a third time. "Which would you prefer?" one of them said. "Well," she stopped halfway down, and stood erect, her arms akimbo, "a girl likes to feel pretty." "Hey, you got that locked," one of them said. The other said, "so you don't mind if we stare?" She ran back up again, her ass looking marvelously round as it rolled over her shapely legs. "Oh no, just so you know it's two way," she giggled, "don't be offended if I stare at your buns."
Tim came downstairs one of these mornings and noticed, when he got the paper, that her sports bra was on the front stoop. He held it in his hands and pondered what it was doing there. Then he looked down the street and saw her jogging toward him, about ten houses away, and even in the limited light of the early morning he was struck by how her boobs bounced wildly in the T-shirt she was wearing. Since when did she go out like THAT? Two young guys were running with her, practically falling over her or colliding with trees.
"Hi," she said to Tim as she got close to their driveway, a strange look on her face as she said good-bye sweetly to the others. "Oh, you're married," one of them said, smiling, eyebrows rising, his face turning to his companion. Her nipples were easy to make out through the sweat-soaked fabric. Her husband looked at her, saying nothing, and got ready for work.
At dinner on the fourth day after, he had gently interrogated her, once again, about the accident she had after soccer practice. "Am I under cross examination?" she laughed, looking at Tonya. "Well how come there were no marks on the Explorer?" he grinned slightly. He knows, she thought, as she said nothing and sipped her third glass of wine. It made her feel small to be grilled, and to have done what she did.
It was four days, one hour and fifteen minutes, since she had last seen her boys. She sat in the ****** room with her husband Tim, a fourth glass of white wine in her left hand and her right unconsciously caressing the skin above the cleavage of her red sun dress. She had changed into it after dinner, and now braless, made a point of jiggling, hoping he would notice. In fact all she had on was the thin, tight, low cut dress and high heels.
So now she sat with her husband, watching "Breaking Away" on the television. Tonya was asleep. Tim and Vicki had not made love since before the evening with her boys. This was a sad reality before; now it was enormously frustrating to her. Then, as they watched the movie in silence, came the scene at the quarry. The young men, later to bring the glory of winning the big bike race to the "cutters", were lounging on the rocks, talking, shirts off, and Vicki's eyes lit up. Dennis Quade smoked, naked from the waist up, and she was ready to pull her hair out. Her heart began to pound, her pussy moist. She turned to Tim and kissed him on the cheek twice, then began to kiss his ear and neck. She put her arm around him and licked his ear, then attacked his mouth with her horny tongue.
"Hey! Aren't we feeling romantic!" he laughed, slightly startled at her having this kind of aggression. For what was now years of habit he had fallen into a pattern of taking her sex for granted, secondary to his preoccupation with his career. Vicki's attack on him was definitely out of their implicit pattern of restricted, predictable, patterned lovemaking. She sensed his slight movement away from her, as if he were not merely startled but turned off by her overture.
She was breathing faster, heavier. Her fingers crawled to his lap, and found his penis. "How about you?" she moaned, rubbing it vigorously.
"But the curtain is open to the patio door. Prying eyes...." he said, starting to get up from the couch to close it. She held him down, "Don't worry about them, and forget the curtain," she said, looking lustily into his eyes. He was confounded by the words he was hearing. Normally she would not think of carrying on like this near a window open to the neighbors' view. Sex with her was lights out in the bedroom, always!
She stood up, facing her husband, and slowly dropped the straps on the sun dress. She leaned over toward him, and shook her shoulders, her very large breasts jiggling wildly, half spilling forward in his face. She took a step closer and pulled one of her massive tits out. For the first time since he had known her, Tim watched his bewitched wife pull the tit toward her mouth, then stretch her long tongue toward the hardening nipple. "How do you like me with nothing on underneath?" she sighed.
"Maybe we should turn the lights off," he droned, not as eager to do what he suggested. His eyes were utterly fixed on her teasing body. This was new, this was not Vicki. He felt like he had no control over this. "Oh, lights on, big boy," she said.
"Let's pretend I'm a nurse, a high school nurse," she said, turning, posing with her back to him, and hoping, as she did so, that someone was watching them. She rocked her hips to the right, then the left, and pushed the material of the dress into her ass crack, then played with her ass cheeks with both hands. She bent down more and pushed her rear end into his face.
"Huh?" he said, excited, getting hard, and taken aback by this display of lewdness.
She straddled his lap. "I'm the nurse and you're a high school boy with a problem. Let's give you a name, young man." She deep kissed him again. He hesitated. "Well this is different." "Do it," she said, pulling the other breast out and pulling her dress down to her waist. "Be a high school guy." He sighed. "John? Sean? Eric?"
"Eric!" she yelled. "Great choice." She pushed her tits into her husband's face and closed her eyes. "So Eric," she whispered, picturing her son's teammate's face, "what's the problem today? Why are you coming to see Nurse Vicki?" She wanted to lose herself in this compromise, indulging her hunger for boy dick by using Tim. It would help her stay out of trouble.
"I don't know," Tim laughed awkwardly, putting his hands around her breasts, "Why don't we just be us?" She persisted: "Eric, you say you have some discomfort in your crotch area?" Tim exhaled, uncomfortable with the role playing. "Let's go upstairs, honey." She stood up, removed her sun dress, and walked briskly to a full length, thin mirror sitting in the powder room. "Eric," she said, affecting the manner of a clinically trained health caregiver, "I think you should watch my examination of you so you can learn about your body. You're a high school senior and it's time you faced the pleasures of manhood that await you." Tim sat, nonplused, and watched his wife, jiggling, toting the mirror with a sense of urgency to a spot just behind her place in front of him.
He decided to humor her - his stiffening cock helped this decision - and said, in a lame imitation of a boy's voice, "should I pull my pants down, nurse?" She swayed her hips and cupped her breasts, pushing them together, looking at them admiringly, then looked down at him. "Yes, Eric, and quickly. I have other young men who are waiting to be examined." Tim laughed apprehensively, and exclaimed in his own voice, "Hey!" He undid his belt and, ass raised, pulled his pants and jockey shorts down to his knees. His penis was almost fully erect.
She began to stroke it. "Eric, I think this ache you have is coming from your genital area. I need to take a closer look." She begin to suck him off slowly, her eyes closed. She stood over him and bent completely over, one hand on his thighs so that, as he noticed through the mirror through her spread legs, she was fellating him and rubbing her pussy, an ass cheek spread. She licked the head of his prick hungrily. "Thank you nurse," he said, now fully aroused. He marveled at the sight in the mirror of her breasts hanging so deliciously as she sucked his cock. She then sat on his prick and said: "Oh, Eric, fuck me with your prick. You're such a sexy young man. Fuck me." She took charge of the screwing, making her big lucious ass rise and fall on his cock. Tim was mesmerized by the look of her butt pounding up and down on his dick. Within a few minutes she was fucking him uncontrollably, her mind lost in a fantasy with Eric, Tony and Kyle, and the two guys from the running k. Eric was on the field, lying on his back, and she was squatting over him, fitting his stiff cock into her pussy. The others stood around her, jacking themselves, waiting their turn. There were other people there, including her husband. As the fantasy took over she came suddenly, her cunt gripping Tim's cock. He had never known her to want to screw like this.
"I want to fuck all five of you," she moaned, as Tim came. She cursed at the quick climax he had and kept moving on top of his softening cock. She mashed her tits against his face. When it was clear that he was soft she fell exasperated on the couch and spread her legs. She pulled at her husband, her eyes glazed. "I'm so fucking hard up," she whimpered. "Please!" He reluctantly placed himself in her crotch and noticed how firmly, even desperately, she held his face at her vagina. "Lick my clit until you can get hard, Eric. Oh yeah, oh God. Don't stop." Her husband shuddered. Why would his wife say what she said in the heat of sexual passion? Could the role play go that far? Why was she still calling him Eric when she was about to have an orgasm? When she came the second time she buried her head in a pillow, at Tim's initiative, so that Tonya wouldn't hear.
Ten minutes into the afterglow he asked her about what she had said. "You said, 'I want to fuck all five of you'. What was that all about?" Did I say that?" she smiled, looking down at her breast. Feeling cornered, she said, after thinking, "oh I was just caught up in the role play, being the nurse and seeing you and other boys." Tim stared at her closely. "Sounds kinky. How long have you had this kind of - uh - scenario in your head?" She became defensive. "Oh I don't know. What's wrong with it?" He snapped: "I don't like having sex with my wife and hearing such stuff." "If it weren't for me we wouldn't have any sex," she said, about to cry. "Well if you want to talk like that when we're making love, you better see a shrink. It's a little odd. I can't get in the mood with that in the equation." He stood up and walked into the kitchen, turned off the lights, and went upstairs. She despised him for suggesting she see somebody.
With the light still on in the ****** room she sat, feeling emotionally distraught, then walked slowly to the patio door after she put the sun dress back on. The screen was open, and she stood and felt the breeze cool her damp crotch. She sat back down and put the movie back on, her hand unconsciously moving to her pussy. She moved her head back and sighed. This fantasy thing with Tim is definitely not going anywhere, she thought.
She reached into her handbag and got out her cell phone. She knew Tony's phone number from caller ID and decided she had to call him and assert herself again. She avoided the ****** phone because Tim might pick up on the extension and misunderstand what she was trying to accomplish; she found Tony's number near the kitchen phone..
To avoid making noise she walked out onto the patio as the number she called began to ring. "Hello?" a woman's voice answered. She slid the screen closed and gulped. "Is - uh - Tony there?" Vicki practically whispered. "Who's calling? It's late," the woman said, apparently Tony's mother. "Someone from school. I'm sorry to bother you at this hour," Vicki said. There was silence at the other end, then: "Are you a classmate of Tony's? You sound like you're out of high school" "Yes, we have classes together," Vicki said, cursing to herself that she sounded obviously adult. More silence. "Who's calling?" "It's Vicki," she said, holding her breath, raising the pitch of her voice. Another pause, then: "I'll get him."
Vicki sat down at their round metal patio table. The breeze felt good on her skin, which glowed warmly from the wine. "Hello?" Tony's voice made her squirm. She couldn't speak. "Hello?" he said again. "Tony? It's Mrs. Gordon, C.J.'s mom." She endeavored to make her voice sound lower, more solid.
He went to a whisper. "Hello! How are you? What a ---- surprise..." She cut him off. "Tony, I only wanted to call to tell you that I can't ever do that again with you and Eric and Kyle." She heard the uncertainty in her voice. Did he sense it as well? Does it sound like I'm reading off notes?
Tony was in his basement with Eric, shooting pool. He put his hand over the phone, and waved frantically to his friend. "It's her!" Eric frowned: "Who?" Tony's eyes widened as his head bobbed up and down, "HER!" They exchanged high fives.
She had gone on talking about the futility of any attempts to interest her in being together, so flustered and nervous that she was ******* he had said, "hang on" and put his hand over the receiver to talk to Eric. Then he came on in the middle of her monologue, "Vicki. Vicki. Relax. I'm glad you called. Eric is too; do you know he's right here?" His voice sounded so warm, so manly, so exciting.
Then Eric got on the phone. She closed her eyes when she heard him say: "How is the sexiest chick in town? We've been pretty mad you haven't wanted to talk to us."
She dug in her heels, and fought to maintain her composure. "Eric, look, I only called to say that --" He interrupted: "You want us. You need us." She stopped him: "No. Listen. That was one night. I was lonely. You had some fun. It's NEVER going to happen again."
"Why did you call us? You already said all this when you hung up on me yesterday," he laughed. "It's after 11:00. Where are you?" She turned and looked into the ****** room, concerned that Tim was out of bed and looking for her or calling from the stairs. "I'm at home, getting some air outside." "Vicki," he said, sounding sweet and sincere, "we're very unhappy. Every day is a bad day. Isn't that the same for you?" He heard nothing. He went on: "We don't want anyone else. Just you. Please." "No, sir," she finally pushed out of her mouth. Don't agree with me, she thought.
"Well we have to take this other guy, Reggie, home, then we're going out. We have told him what a beautiful and sexy chick you are. Why don't we stop by and you can tell us to our faces......If you dare." She almost yelled, then caught her voice from getting out of control. "Stop by? Now?" The thought of seeing them made her more nervous. He smelled a weakening housewife on the phone and took more initiative. "Sure. Then you can tell Tony and me you don't want us in your life." She couldn't talk. "Hello?" she heard him utter melodically. "I knew you were going to back down," he said. "Who's backing down?" she asked, irritated. "Well if you're definitely not our favorite chick any more the least you can do is tell us to our faces. You know what you mean to us. You're like a goddess" This little fucking sweet talker, she thought, smiling at his boyish brio.
"OK youngblood," she laughed. "I'm in my back yard. My address is -" "781 Kenilworth," he said, "I know it by heart." He smiled at Tony and held up his erect thumb high, Tony meanwhile telling the third boy, Reggie, all about it. "If this is what it takes to get through to you, and your persistent little friend Tony, then meet me in my back yard. I want to get this behind me and you're going to listen to what I have to say," she tried to sound formal, cold, brusque. "Park a few houses away and walk quietly," she added, "I don't want my ****** to hear." "Particularly Mr. Gordon. Five minutes," he almost whispered.
She pressed END on the cell phone and tipped into the house. Why hadn't she checked out her husband's status, asleep or awake, before she let them talk her into this? She walked quietly into their bedroom and heard him snoring softly. She turned and down in the kitchen wrote a note and placed it at the foot of the stairs: "WENT FOR A WALK."
She gulped the wine left in Tim's glass and put on, without thinking, the high heels she had worn after dinner. Nervously she ran to the powder room and primped quickly, brushing her hair, and put on fresh, shiny lipstick and cologne, and long, gold earrings. Frantically she found the belt for the sun dress and tightened it as far as it would go. The belt pulled snugly so that the top of the dress was in a tight profile.
She turned toward the patio door and there stood Tony, Eric, and a tall, very muscular boy of color. The sight of them standing on the patio, Tony's and Eric's noses against the screen, made her jump. She took a breath and felt a rush of desire at their presence. She could not stop her eyes from looking them over, and had they deliberately, strategically, worn no shirts? And on top of that they wore shorts that showed off their hunk legs? What babes they were. She summoned her strength as Tony opened the screen. Nobody said a thing.
She walked over, her eyes unable to meet theirs. She stared at their bodies. I can do this, she kept saying, I can get these guys out of my life.
But all she could say as her beautiful face stopped inches from his was "hi," and she smiled. "Hi," he said, his babycakes eyes penetrating her. She had missed them so much that the thrill of this moment pushed her mouth into his, for a wet, deep kiss. Eric pushed Tony out of the way and she pulled Eric into her arms, kissing him hard and hugging him almost violently.
She stepped out and closed the sliding screen. "Now wait," she said, breaking free and walking toward the chairs, arms folded protectively, she looking down at the ground. "We're not going to do this." She looked up at the third boy, a very handsome, very black youngster. She extended her hand and whispered, "so you're Reggie?" He kissed her hand as she sat down at a patio chair to get her bearings. "Pleased to meet you Vicki," he said, with an affectionate smile, as he looked her over in the light shining out from her home. "Or should I call you, Mrs. Gordon?" She watched him check her out and after a pause said: "Well I guess a handsome guy like you can call me whatever you want." "But a beautiful babe like you deserves to be treated like a classy young lady," he said, leaning toward her and laughing slightly. "Reggie," she said warmly, "you've been hanging with these Romeos too long."
She peered up at Tony with frustration. He was walking behind where she sat. She closed her eyes, waiting in suspense. She complained: "You could have worn shirts, you know. This is unfair." She sighed, afraid of the forces inside of her, which were similar to the currents of horniness that engulfed her last week, as she sat in the Explorer, hungry for cock. But now these currents were turning into a tidal wave. She looked back at Eric then felt Tony's strong hands on her bare shoulders. "OK, but not any lower," she protested. His fingers began to knead gently the area above her collarbone. "Now doesn't that feel good?" Tony said softly, watching her head drop with the intoxicating touch of his caress. He looked at Eric and Reggie and broke into an evil shit-eating grin, his cobra-like tongue wagging over her perfumed hair. She put her hands on his hands to keep them from moving, but they crept down her shoulders to arms and back up again. He whispered to her: "I have mi you so much. You're such a sexy chick. Our sexy soccer babe. You didn't come to the game Saturday and we played like shit." He kept on with his romancing: "God you're so beautiful. I need to hold you and feel your body. And you dressed tonight to show off your breasts and your legs. You dressed for us. Not your husband, for us. You've thought of us the whole time, haven't you?"
Vicki began to melt. Everything she heard was true. Her hands shifted from barriers to encouragers. Then Eric leaned against the table, facing her. He put his hand on hers, then began to caress her arm. Her head was beginning to swim, and Reggie's presence, rather than detract from a feeling of arousal, only aggravated the powerful force that was absorbing her.
Tony spoke louder, "So what did you want to tell us? 'I never want to see you again'?" He began to rub her neck and her shoulders, and slipped the straps off them. Eric pulled on her left leg and she didn't resist as he planted it on the table, high heel pointing to the stars. The dress fell down to her crotch. "Yeah, babe, tell us. We're here." "We're listening," Tony said. He put his nose in her hair and then began to kiss her cheek and lick her ear. He felt her breathing grow like crazy and he smiled. "Hey," Eric said in mock disappointment, "we rushed over here to get straightened out. Cat got your tongue?" His hands were exploring her leg, and she stretched her other long, shapely leg up into his lap, bending it at the knee, causing the dress to fall almost to her waist. She could not stop staring at his chest and his crotch. Eric's eyes widened at the sight of her naked pussy, on display as her dress slipped down.
Vicki was so overtaken by desire she hardly heard their banter. She snaked her arm around Tony's hip and deep kissed him, her fingers digging into his buttock. Eric was kissing her calves, and petting her thighs. "Do you guys think she's a good girl, with nothing on under that dress?" "She's a naughty girl," Tony said, his hands meeting no resistance as they cupped her breasts. "Hey Tony, " Eric whispered loudly, "show Reggie those big tits." Tony reached boldly down the top of her dress and pulled out her tits, holding up one at a time with his hands, dropping each of them on her chest, and smiling at Reggie. "You ever see tits this huge?" Tony said, mashing them together as Eric knelt down and began kissing and licking her thighs. Reggie laughed in wonder, "Wow. So at last I see them. Look at how wide those nipples are." Now Vicki squeezed them together and pulled one, then the other toward her mouth and Reggie walked around to be next to Tony. He stared lustfully a body.
Tony pulled his shorts down - he had nothing on underneath - and out sprang his painfully excited rod, which he pushed defiantly into and against her face. The sight of it completely erased any inhibitions she had, any thoughts about being good and denying herself this depraved pleasure. "So are you at least going to come to our games, Mrs. Gordon?" he said, slapping his very hard cock against her nose and mouth. "You told us never again, but you want some cock real bad, don't you Soccer girl?" Eric and Tony laughed, smiling fraternally at each other as she sighed in resignation, opened her wicked mouth as wide as she could, and felt the wonderfully hard meat of his fresh manhood ram into her, aimed at her eager throat. "We can't stay away, and you can't get enough of the younger generation, can you, Mrs. Gordon?" Eric said as he fingered her now wet vagina. "We can stop if that's what you want," he laughed. "But I think you want to fuck us." He buried his face in her p gazing past her trim tummy, in awe at her breasts, all her feminine charms, her long, curvy legs spread to either side of his head. Her free hand pulled him into her clit, then she swiveled her right leg up in the air so that she turned more toward Tony's cock and she could guide Eric's juicy fingers into her asshole. Vicki felt completely inflamed with passion. Her conflict over which way to go vanished. She had to have this every day, and there was no stopping her from getting it.
