Chapter 1

“Oh, fuck,” I whisper while freezing in place.

At the restart of snoring, I relax and again ease over the tangle of glistening, muscled bodies sprawled across the waterbed. Already raw from the long drive to the beach house and the even longer night, I don’t need any of the hungry young studs waking. With tremors continuing to thunder through me, I creep across the carpet.

After making it into the bathroom and easing the door shut, I peel sticky long dark hair from my face while clinging to the countertop. At my both wide-eyed and exhausted expression, I gulp. Which is a mistake. Slicing pain erupts and my clenching fingers scramble around in the medicine cabinet for pain meds.

“Boys,” I murmur while glaring at the closed door.

Then giggle before downing the pills with what’s left in a beer bottle on the counter. I can remember the day, no, the instant it all began. It wasn’t that long ago.

It had been the beginning of summer. Although the first weekend had been stormy, that second Saturday offered a glorious blue sky. A scorching sun sent shimmers across our rear patio’s blinding white concrete. The pool’s surface glittered with every splash as the boys played.

I guess I shouldn’t call them boys. Young men, more like. My son Davey and the rest of his high school varsity football buddies had started early. By the afternoon, with beer flowing and marijuana in the air, they were quite raucous. With music blaring and a few of their girlfriends over as well, the party was really roaring. I was glad our nearest neighbor lived a half-mile down the winding road.

Oh, and I can hear the strident grumbling about underage drinking and gateway drugs. I’d done much worse at their age. Nor would I let any of them drive home drunk or high. And as far as several girls being topless and a few bottomless, like I said, we were pretty isolated. All in good fun. No harm, no foul.

Anyway, as was often the case, I was bored.

While keeping half an eye on the revelry through the wide kitchen window, I was leaning on the counter reading a trashy and very steamy romance novel. Sure, I’d dressed in a cute little tennis skirt and tight white top. Catching a few appraising glances from the younger and admittedly good-looking guys was only harmless fun. But by then I was far more focused on the sexy smut, not them. So, with a third tall mug of coffee, containing more bourbon than the last, half-full in one hand, my other was twisting the shit out of my hair.

Poor innocent little farm girl, Ellie, was going to be taken by a bad, bad rich boy, Marcus. As her skirt tore apart in his enormous mitts, the story was getting hotter by the second. With me leaning closer to my tablet, I shifted my legs wider, hoping to keep my soaking panties from bursting into flames. I’d just looked up to scan the crowded pool, trying to decide if I should risk a quick dash upstairs to finger myself, when the rear door shoved wide.

It was Hank. Now, I’d never thought much about my son’s friends, but at that split second, as aroused as I was, there was no way to avoid it. I gave his towering, muscled frame a longer glance than appropriate. But he was looking past me and I didn’t think he’d noticed.

“Uh, sorry, Mrs. Fisher.” His voice was slurred and, although invisible, a cloud of burned hemp flowed in with him. “Um, can I use the bathroom?”

“Yeah, sure, hon. You know where it is.”

And right then, everything returned to normal. As I leaned back to read about Marcus tearing frilly lace undies from screaming Ellie, the handsome, beefy Hank dashed.

Except, at that precise moment, the universe entered the fray.

Instead of going around the kitchen and staying on the carpet, he chose to cut through. Oh, he’d dried his feet, but he was a boy. And drunk. Oh, and more than a little high. Which meant he hadn’t done it very well. And the tile was slick.

Right as Marcus thrust into Ellie, Hank’s abrupt yelp echoed in the farthest corner of my distracted mind. At the sudden slap of long, thick fingers on my hip, I jerked, almost spilling the mug. With his damp soles squeaking, he spun behind me.

“Oh, shit. Sorry.”

At his solid pelvis mashing into my ass, just as Ellie moaned, so did I. Hank froze. Well, most of him. The meaty flesh shoving into my cheeks surged with heat. That pulled a second moan from me as I continued swaying forward under the sudden thrust.

The first hand on my hip was an accident to regain his balance. The other one’s slower landing was not. Nor was my abrupt shove back into him. It was primal. Only a reaction, nothing more. But he held me and damned if I didn’t stay in place as time slowed.

Every sound but the pounding of my heart disappeared into a mushy murk. Scented with weed and alcohol, his rapid, heated breath pounded along my back. Beneath me, his pulse also pounded right where, after poor Ellie and hungry Marcus, I was most sensitive.

At last, when Hank gulped and shifted his fingers, I looked over my shoulder at him. With his cheeks bright red and brilliant blue eyes wide, he swept his gaze over my spine to find mine.

“Mmm. You’re making me wet, Hank.”

“W-what?” He peered at where his taut pelvis was tight to me.

“Your trunks, Hank. From the pool. My skirt.”

Of course, when he met my gaze again, we both knew the fat head of his cock was pulsing against a whole different and much, much warmer wetness.

“Uh, sorry.” He flashed me a nervous, but pretty, grin.

When his grip loosened, I readied to lift from the counter. But with a groan, his fingers clenched, and Hank thrust forward, pushing his hardness against my soaked panties. Despite that pulling a third moan from me, I narrowed my brows while huffing.

“You’re a—a real MILF, Mrs. Fisher.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. Boys. Subtle they are not. Especially not when drunk and stoned.

“That’s awful flattering, Hank. But, um, I’m married”—I lifted my wiggling fingers to display my wedding band—”and your girlfriend, or girlfriends if the rumors are true, wouldn’t be too happy either, correct?”

And right there, just as he nodded and his hands relaxed, the universe decided to double down. The door flung open again to admit Dione “Bull” Kingsley. As his eyes flew wide, his massive feet squealed to a halt.

Taller, even more built than Hank, oh, and black as coal, he didn’t know where to look. My shocked face? Hank’s similar expression? Or where we were attached by Hank’s hands and, from Bull’s angle, the pulsing shaft under me?

Likewise, my gaze roamed him. Oh, don’t get me wrong. Hank was all kinds of handsome, but Bull was positively dreamy. Wow, his emerald eyes glimmered. He was a goddamned mountain of dark, rippling muscle with an easy smile that was widening as he scanned me. And God Almighty, as a middle linebacker, could he move on the field. Fucking fast. Hard-hitting. He was my secret fantasy type. The dirty me. The bad me. The one my husband teased.

At Hank’s sudden thrust, another moan tore from me. Their gazes met. Before I knew it, Bull pulled the door shut and moved closer. The potent scent of salty sweat and harsh pool chemicals flooded my brain.

“Boys.” As I started to lift, Bull gripped my arm. “Boys?”

Although my voice had risen, when Hank turned me and grabbed my other arm, I only moaned. Yeah, it was wrong. Of course it was. And with every dragging sideways scrape of my heels across the tile, all of us understood that. But trapped in the grip of two towering giants, I was—lost. We all were. Floating on a sea of swirling fantasy, fueled by good bourbon. Or, in their case, copious amounts of beer and weed.

No, that’s not fair. I won’t blame the booze. And my husband was a decent, loving man, so I can’t claim any moral high ground. It was pure lust fueling me. Well, all of us. The life-altering ramifications could wait.

Before I knew it, they’d shoved me into the hall bathroom. After stopping in front of me, Bull turned and went to lift my top. A final halting defense flew from me when I twisted and whirled, but Hank’s hand shot to grip the back of my neck as he slammed the door shut. The lock clicked.

“No. We can’t,” I said while smacking at Bull’s massive hands. “It’s not right.”

He only laughed.

As I yelped, he ripped the blouse skywards. No way was I strong enough to resist. While it flew over my head, flinging my arms upwards and sending my hair out in a cascade to land across my shoulders, I groaned.

“Mmm, hmm. Damn. Fuck me, them some nice titties, Mrs. Fisher.” As Bull spoke, his heated, beer-tinged breath sluiced over my bare torso.

His magical smile sent jangles through my core as his eyes roamed my jiggling chest. No, I hadn’t worn a bra. I’d been in cutesy tease mode, remember? Not that it would’ve slowed him.

Behind me, Hank’s hands shoved downward on my hips. Cold air engulfed me when he dragged my skirt and panties to my shaky ankles in one thick sopping roll.

“Oh, now, damn. Bare, Mrs. Fisher?” At Bull’s chuckle as he stared between my shaking legs, heat flew up my cheeks. “Your hubby likes that, huh?”

When I flicked my tongue over my lips and nodded, his laughter deepened. As my chest heaved, I twisted and moved a hand to cover myself. One swift slap of his palm flung mine away. Oh, that delicious sting sizzled along my nerves. Although his eyebrows arched at my abrupt moan, he only chuckled. Back then, he didn’t know any better.

“Nah, don’t hide, Mrs. Fisher. That’s a downright beautiful pussy.” He glanced past me. “Dibs.”

“Aww, I grabbed her first,” Hank replied, sending hot air over my bare back.

With Hank’s hands sliding along my ribs, pulling quiet, wavering moans from me, the room spun. Like a chilly crystal, reality struck me. Oh, my God, they were gonna rape me. I hadn’t given consent. But those ravenous boys didn’t care. And as Bull’s trunks eased from his pelvis, releasing an enormous purple black shaft, the universe trebled down.

“Oh, my fucking God,” slipped from me.

Talk about tapping deep into the deepest of deep dark secret fantasies. Fuck me. If that thumping pole was going to rape me, I was—okay. It would be worth it.

“Oh, damn. You should see her expression, Hank.” Bull’s deep laughter erupted again. “Mrs. Fisher, you wanna taste of high-quality nigger cock, don’t you?”

As Hank’s swimsuit splatted onto the tile behind me, I nodded. So help me God, I actually nodded. With my pulse racing, I tore my gaze from that throbbing magnificence to scan Bull’s mystical dreamy eyes. Yeah, I shouldn’t have, but I knew they were pleading my case with him.

“Go ahead, Mrs. Fisher. Have a taste.”

At Bull’s huge hand on my shoulder, bending me towards him and Hank gripping tighter to my hips, I should’ve resisted. But with that wondrous pulsating dark bulb moving closer to my opening lips, I didn’t. Oh, and I even caught Bull’s wink past me. So, I knew what would happen as soon as my mouth engulfed that glistening knob.

With a moan, I thrust forward, devouring the massive silken flesh. The taste of sweat and masculine soap inundated my sweeping tongue. With his tree-trunk legs shaking, did Bull ever groan. But before I could moan again, Hank’s digits tightened.

Of only one hand.

Another bulbous pressure forced between my cheeks. When it glanced off my twitching rosebud, I thought he’d take my ass, but it glided into my seam. Then found my aching tightness. As Bull thrust, so did Hank. Fuck, as his fingers gripped me tight, his solid thumping muscle shoved my clenching insides apart.

“Oh, yeah. Mmm. Airtight, baby.” Hank whooped as they high-fived above me.

And what was I doing as they celebrated? I was gobbling the most wondrous velvety sliding cockmeat while Hank’s pulsating telephone pole plunged deeper. Flashback time. College. Not an initiation. Nope, simply earning fun money. And I was good at it. Made a helluva lot of cash. Also learned a bunch of useful skills. Such as I’d already sucked in lungfuls of air before Bull’s fat rim had sealed my throat.

“Goddamn, Bull. Mmm. Oh, she’s fucking milking me. Her pussy is...” Hank’s voice became a shaky whisper. “F-Fuck ... Milking, oh, me.”

Like I said, skills.

With them using me, time wandered away. Along with a roaring heat I hadn’t felt in years, waves built ever higher within me. Nothing existed but the three of us, locked together in a ritual from my darkest past. To his credit, after every shove against Bull, he pulled his mammoth tube out far enough that I could suck in wet bubbly air. And each time I stared up at him, he’d flash a grin before taking my throat once more.

“Oh, damn. She likes this, Hank.” That laugh again. “We’re gonna have to keep her.”

“Fuck! Oh. Oh. Oh. Don’t do that Bull. D-Don’t tease her. She’s already so fucking tight. H-Hey there!” Smack. I jerked, then shuddered. But at Hank’s swat on my ass, I relaxed my clamping insides. “Fuck, thank you, Mrs. Fisher. Mmm, goddamn.”

Once he restarted his stroking, we resumed a steady pace. While my tits swung with each thrust, Bull’s widespread hands swirled along my arching back. Hurricane-whipped, those surging heated waves within me were getting awful close to toppling. Likewise, Hank’s breathing was becoming chaotic. His thrusting, ever more frenzied.

“You were made for this, weren’t you, Mrs. Fisher?” Bull’s voice wavered.

With my glimmering red nails raking up his muscled thighs, I looked up at him. His eyes widened. Yes, I was. As one old boyfriend had said, “Once a fucktoy, always a fucktoy.” It had simply been a long, long time. Too long.

“Mmm. Oh, yes. Oh, fuck,” left his smiling mouth just as the immense shaft in my throat bulged.

Right as his towering frame bucked, he shoved his cock deep. With his fingers clenching my hair, he shared pulse after warm, thick pulse, feeding me his seed. Feeding my darkest hunger.

Behind me, Hank cried out and thrust as far as he could. Jammed between two solid pelvises, all I could do was twist and shake as the waves pounded across my spasming core. A massive, lengthy jet of warmth flooded my thirsty canal. Another pumped into my stomach. One more behind me, filling my pussy. Overfilling it. Dribbles spurted free.

With the boys holding me tight, my screams were only vibrations alongside Bull’s draining mast. My pussy clamped so hard Hank shrieked. But, with his fingers clasping my squirming hips, he kept pumping, soaking me with his youthful essence. Once again, I was a vessel. A happy, cum-swallowing, seed-accepting vessel.

It was only much later, as I lay in the tub, surrounded by fragrant bubbles, that the reality struck me. Once done, both boys had lowered me to the cold tile, dressed and slipped away. Fantasies all around fulfilled. Our little secret. Nothing more.

“But I want more,” I whispered to the pale-yellow flickers of my scented candles.

While taking another sip of red wine, my fourth large glass that night, I sighed and reclined to gaze at the sparkly ceiling. I’d been unleashed. After all those years of being a good mother.

“I’m a bad, bad mommy.” I giggled. “Hmm. So very bad.”

One who those lovely boys had loved to fuck. I ran my other hand into the bubbles to slide a fingernail along my still-swollen seam. And who’d thoroughly enjoyed every damned second of them fucking her.

“Now, how can I do that again?” I murmured to the blurring sparkles as my finger sank.

“Jesus, Mary. What’s gotten into you?”

With my mouth around his rolling bristly balls, I couldn’t chuckle aloud, but the vibrations sent my husband arching backwards. As I kneeled naked before him on the kitchen floor, Tom’s body swayed with each powerful suck. Not that he ever lasted long, but my suction was more than he could take. And as his crimson stem bucked above me, it launched the first twinkling white loop skywards. Just in time, I closed my eyes and caught it across my cheek.

As more of his thick, warm cum splatted over my face and tits, I kept sucking, but added a fist to squeeze upwards in synch with his cock’s forceful pulsing. Only after he’d finished did I glide my open mouth along its softening underside, hunting thick salty dribbles. My husband, wide-eyed and speechless, groaned like a trapped doe when I engulfed his tip. At my forceful suction, his entire body vibrated.

When I tugged his shrinking head from my lips, I smiled up through cum-clad eyelashes. With my nails running along his trembling thighs, at last I released a soft laugh.

“Nothing, babe.” I winked at him. “Have a nice day at the office.”

After rocking back on my heels to stand, I leaned against the opposite counter. While I scooped warm sticky strands from my face into my lips, he stared. Beside him was a half-empty mug. As Tom gave me another lingering gaze, he tucked himself away and zipped up.

“Uh. Yeah, um, you too, honey.” His shaking fingers lifted the coffee, returning him to the pose in which I’d found him ten minutes earlier. “You, uh, gonna get dressed? Davey’ll be up soon. W-What are you, um, doing today?”

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Bad Mommy

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