“Come on, Sam,” Liam says, sounding annoyed. “I’m going to go even if you don’t, but it’s going to be awkward celebrating you being 21 if you’re not there to celebrate it with is.”
“Come on, Sam,” I say, leaning towards him and letting him catch a glance at my heavy, swinging breast. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
This got Sam’s pants tenting as well. It wasn’t hard. With the amount of testosterone raging through these college stud’s bodies, I’m surprised just the site of me didn’t create a damp spot in the seat of their pants.
“Well, okay… If we’re quick.”
I lead the way and Liam and Sam follow behind. While we walk I decide to make small talk. “So how long as you boys home for?” I ask.
“Just for the week,” Liam answers.
“The week,” Sam confirms.
“And do either of you have girlfriends waiting to be back together with you once school is back in session?”
“I do,” Liam says. “We’re crazy about each other. But it’s hard being away from her.”
“I bet,” I say, leading them through the front door. I lead them straight to my kitchen. “What kind of drinks you boys like?”
“You have any beer?” Sam asks, surprising me.
“I do!” I say, opening the fridge and fishing a few out. I pop the tops off for them and sit on the counter while I watch them enjoy their beers.
“Are you not going to drink with us?” Liam asks. “Or are you afraid of what might happen if we all drink?”
“What might happen?” Sam asks, confused. He takes a swill of his beer.
“I have a few ideas,” I say seductively. I flip my hair back over my shoulder and stick my chest out, making sure that my tits look perky and full. “You miss your girlfriend, Liam?”
“I do miss her,” he says, almost sadly, but I can’t help but notice the smile on the corners of his lips.
“What do you miss about her?” I ask. I reach up to my chest and squeeze my nipple through the fabric of my blouse. Sam raises his eyebrows at this, his cock jumping visibly in his jeans.
“I miss her body,” Liam says, smirking. He knows exactly what to say. He walks towards me, his hand outstretched, reaching. “And I miss her pussy. And those great tits. Her tits are a lot like yours, ma’am. Nice and full. Great to grab onto-“
“I think we should go, Liam!” Sam says, putting his beer down and rushing forward. He grabs Liam’s arm and pulls him towards the kitchen door. ”We really do have a lot of work to do!”
“But-“
I decide it’s time to bust out the big guns. If this is going to happen today, if I’m going to cheat again behind my husband’s back with the neighbor’s son, it needs to happen within the window of opportunity that is quickly closing.
“Oh, boys, wait!” I say, and when they turn back to me, they both stop dead—because Sam has stopped pulling. Their mouths fall open when they see what I have for them.
I’ve lifted up my skirt and revealed that beneath my short skirt, my freshly shaved pussy is naked, untethered by the chains of panties.
Chapter Three
Liam is the first one to move forward, but Sam seems to have given up on resisting as well. They both creep forward, their eyes focused on my pussy, unmoving.
“Come on, boys,” I say with a smile. I reach up with one hand and pull down the neckline of my blouse. One of my heavy breasts spills out, my nipple eagerly inviting a mouth to feed. My husband and I never had kids—the idea of playing adoption with these boys sometime sounded like fun. Step-mommy loves her buff step-sons. “Before my husband comes home.”
“Your husband just left, Judy,” Liam says confidently. He grabs a handful of my tit-meat in my hand, roughly, I wince, but I like it. I can feel my pussy steaming between my legs, eager to get peeled open so it could really breathe. “He won’t be home for a good, long time.”
“But we have a lot of work,” Sam says slowly. His hand is creeping towards my cunt.
“You certainly do have a lot of work, boys,” I say, grabbing his wrist and leading his hand to my pussy myself. He begins exploring me immediately and I begin to moan. When my mouth opens I’m surprised when Liam’s mouth meets mine and his tongue immediately begins to swirl around my mouth, tasting me.
“Hang on, bro,” he says, pulling Sam’s hand away from my pussy. He lifts my blouse up and over my head, and then unzips my skirt, pushing it down past my hips. I’m now completely naked in front of these studly brothers and nothing could make me hornier.
“Aren’t you boys going to get naked too?” I ask seductively. “Or are you just going to stand there and watch me play with myself?”
Liam is out of his pants in moments, his enormous cock (I knew it) standing at attention. Sam is slower, more methodical. He still seems a little nervous. I’m surprised to learn he’s not wearing any underwear at all, and his cock is just as big as his brothers. How was he hiding that beast? It must have been because of the different fit of the pants.
Liam is on me immediately, his hand roughly exploring my pussy and his mouth suckling on my raw nipples.
I motion for Sam to come forward. “Come on,” I beg, my voice husky. “Help your brother. Take this married pussy and use it. Fill it with your seed so I can have you in me when my husband comes home.”
My dirty talking does the trick and he rushes forward, his cock standing at attention. If he wasn’t careful, and he tripped, I could be impaled on that monster!
He works on my free nipple, and his hand joins his brother’s near my pussy. Liam lets his work my cunt a little while and then spins me around, spanking my ass hard.
“Damn, mama,” he says, his voice hungry. “You mind if I take that pussy from behind? You can throat my little bro’s cock while I’m drilling you.”
I oblige, leaning forward with my mouth open to give Sam the hint. He doesn’t even have it halfway to my mouth when his brother slams about half of his spit-lubed monster into my hole. I moan loudly and Sam takes the opportunity to roughly push his cock through my lips and down my throat. The way he slides his cock into a throat is no freshman move—he’s guided his cock down many throats.
This gives Sam a whole new dimension, and I’m excited to have his balls on my chin.
Liam is pounding me hard from behind. “Oh, fuck yeah,” he says, spanking me hard. It actually kind of hard. Does he really treat his girlfriend like this, or is this the side he saves for older women who love to be drilled by college athletes? “My girl can’t take my dick like this, mama,” he informs me. “Almost every inch of my python is inside of you. Guess your husband must keep you nice and lose, huh?”
I can’t tell him the truth because my throat is stuffed with cock. The truth is my husband almost never opens my pussy up, and when he does, it’s often unsatisfying for both of us. He’s nothing special in the size department, but he’s also not that talented of a lover.
Liam is both hung and talented.
“Your mouth feels incredible,” Sam says, growling. “Amazing. Much better than my professors’.”
My pussy is sopping wet, but this new tidbit of information is threatening to push me over the edge. Sam? He’s the one who nails his professor? Does he do it for good grades, or just for the story? Or just to get his nut off? Guys fuck for many different reasons.
I want to feel Sam’s mouth, so I pull off to let him know. “You want to eat my pussy?” I ask. “Please, please eat my pussy. Eat it while your brother takes me from behind.
He smiles. “You’re in luck,” he says. “I love eating pussy. I’m a pro.”
He bends down in front of me, and within seconds I’m writhing in ecstasy as his tongue explores my lips. He must just be narrowly missing the flesh of his brother’s massive cock. His talented tongue never strays far from my pussy, though, and soon he’s nibbling hard on my clit and I’m screaming. I was so loud it might have been a good idea for me to have a leather belt to bite on.
I�
��m screaming loud, and Liam is growling hard as he releases his nut deep inside my pussy. Sam is moaning as he cums as well, but he’s getting himself off and his cum is being shot on the wooden floor beneath us. Maybe I’ll leave this puddle of cum on the kitchen floor for my husband to discover later.
My legs are shaking when Liam pulls off and it’s hard for me to stand. They help me to the floor and we collapse into a puddle together.
“It’s a damn shame you boys are going back to school soon,” I say, almost sadly, almost meaning it. “I never realized that a pair of studs lived so close to me. Especially studs that love married pussy!”
“I won’t tell your husband as long as you don’t tell my girl,” Liam says with a wink.
When my husband comes home later, he informs me that our small pug, Michelle, must have puked in the kitchen because he stepped in it.
I smiled when he told me, my pussy igniting.
Chapter One
I have this thing for fire fighters. I’ve had quite a few boyfriends—a plethora, actually—but an unusually high amount of them have been firemen. Weird, right? Most women go through their lives not marrying even one. I’ve got a good eight or nine under my belt. One of them might have been an EMS guy, I’m a bit hazy on it.
Anyways, there was a reason I was telling you about firemen. It’s because ever since that fire station opened up a little over a block down the street from me, I’m assaulted by their raw sexuality nearly every time I leave the apartment. I live in the city—there’s a high need for firemen. I probably make up a quarter of that need by myself though. They give me such a yearning.
I sort of hang out around the fire station when I’ve got nothing better to do. There’s a memorial garden across the street with some benches that a lot of the professionals in the area visit to eat their lunches and unwind after intense boardroom conversations. I’ve actually picked up quite a few businessmen there while I was actively trying to sneak a peek at the firemen lugging around those big hoses of theirs.
Watching them work, coiling and uncoiling the hoses, preparing their equipment, does something to me. It’s not long before I feel that familiar heat rising in my groin. It’s this sort of swampy feeling that alerts me to the fact that my pussy is pulling overtime to pour out some more of its secretions. I leak like a faucet on full-blast when a fireman gets me going.
Hot summer days are the best part of the year. The firemen really aren’t allowed to strip out of their clothes whenever they feel like it, but on lazy, slow afternoons, a group of the burliest firemen would strip off their shirts to show off the bodies they worked so hard for. You’ve got to be fit when your primary job is saving people’s lives and the houses that they inhabit. I’m not the only woman who stares at the show—a lot of faces turn their way during the festivities.
Today is one of those hot summer days and I’m sitting on the park bench facing the twin open garage doors of the fire station. They’re busily bringing a truck that was just out on a run up to par, and I can barely get my sandwich down on account of slobbering like a hound over these hunky fire dudes. I’m a self-employed writer who writes articles for a bunch of local papers, so my schedule allows for these little breaks as little or as often as I wanted. In the summer I tended to want them a lot.
One of the firefighters—and my absolute favorite out of the top tier—wanders out of the door, heavy looking boxes in my arms. When he slipped into the shadows the garage afforded on such a bright day, he had been wearing a grey shirt with sweat stains under the armpits (how I’d love to catch a whiff of those pheromones), but now he was shirtless, his biceps swollen to an almost unbelievable size from the strain.
I raised my eyes. Vinnie (my nickname for him) had been hitting the weights hard these days. It was paying off. Someone should show him a little appreciation.
I shovel in the rest of my sandwich and stand, grabbing my bag and heading for the trashcan near the entrance to the garden. When I look back to Vinnie, the box he was carrying is on the ground in front of him and he’s looking right at me with his powerful arms crossed over his chest. Good things my leggings were black. I had to be leaking into them.
Vinnie whistles, and another couple of firemen slip out of the shadows of the garage. Both of these guys are also shirtless: one is an Icelandic looking guy I dubbed Bruno who dwarfed even the muscular Italian Vinnie. The one was a newer addition to the crew, a young black guy who looked deceivingly skinny under his shirt. I’d only ever seen him with his shirt on, but now I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the twin slabs of muscle staring back at me. I named him Gerald.
All three of them were staring right at me. This was the first time that I had been acknowledged by more than one of them at a time. And the first time to be acknowledged by Gerald at all. Vinnie has known for a while that I’m hopelessly attracted to firemen. He was one of the only ones who picked up on my leering. Once I had even followed them in my car as they raced down the street, sirens blaring, cars parting before them, with the hopes of seeing one of them come out of a building shirtless and smoking with a woman or child in his arms. Vinnie had been the fireman driving that day, and he had raised his eyebrows at me after experiencing my vicious chase firsthand. I drove away soon after he spotted me, thwarted. But he never forgot what I looked like.
And now, apparently, he was pointing out my fireman addiction to a group of his friends. Had they arranged this little show especially for me? Perhaps Vinnie had picked up on my pattern (Monday, Wednesday, Friday, generally, sometimes I throw in a special trip for a thrill) and had decided to plot a little surprise with his studly friends.
This was my signal, right? My chance to initiate a conversation that could get me under one, or all, of them.
This was my chance, and I was letting it slip away. My face was burning with shame. I had been caught! Even though my pussy was practically itching for want of attention from my fingers, the shame was the overriding emotion. I turned to the right as soon as I exited the park and didn’t look back.
Someday. Someday.
Chapter Two
A few hours later (and after a furious spree of pussy rubbing) I was more in control of myself and managed to erase most of the shame I’d accumulated with a long, hot shower. So that was it? After nearly a full year of watching these studs sweat as they went about their work and finally earning their approval and appreciation (I at least hope) I was going to let it all slip away from me? It sure seems that way.
The sound of a siren racing by the window outside of my apartment makes my heart thump in my chest. This is it? This is actually not going to happen? And it’s my fault? I shake my head and hope to will away some of the confusion. I’m so angry and confused with myself that I find myself browsing through the firemen channel on my favorite female-centric porn website. Just so I can really get a handle on my feelings and see if what I’m missing is as great a loss as it feels.
All of the videos were of women who were bustier and more beautiful than me getting reamed out by buff firemen with hoses the length and thickness of my forearm. All of the women are more beautiful than me, but none of the men are more sexually attractive than Vinnie, Bruno, and Gerald. They’re realer than these men who are coifed and proper. Vinnie with his body hair, Bruno with his giant, pale body. And there’s Gerald, with his sinewy muscles and blindingly white teeth. Was his cock as big as the other black men I’d been with in my life?
The porn site surfing is making me sad so I shut my laptop and yawn. I feel that familiar feeling stirring in my groin again. Hadn’t I just dealt with myself? My pussy is so tireless. I guess it’s more own fault for exposing myself to more firemen skin. I make a snap decision, just like that.
I’m going to take a walk by the fire station and see what’s going on. And if Vinnie and any of the other guys are there, I’m going to talk to them, and I’m going to tell them exactly what I want from them. Usually guys are into that upfront shit. And besides, they had been the ones who were so clearly
trying to initiate a little adult playtime with me. Weren’t they the ones baring it all for me out front of the station? Or were they just playing me for a fool? I hope not.
I pull on my leggings and a t-shirt and put on my jogging sneakers. I was behind on my exercise lately. Especially since more and more I’m choosing to spend my jogs sitting in the garden and watching the firemen work. The more time I spend there, the better chance I have to see some hotties peel their shirts off. I’ve even experienced a shirts versus skins game on a particularly slow early evening as the sun sank below the edges of the sky.
I run hard and fast, taking the long way around the block so I have an excuse to take it a little slower as I pass the station. Of course, I was going to travel past the station on the opposite side of the sidewalk. I didn’t want to get too close and risk catching a whiff of their sweat and being crippled by some sort of pussy-pounding pheromone effect. The effect my libido has on the rest of my body is truly impressive and expectation defying.
After the trip around the block I’m breathing heavily and taking my time. My pace is closer to a walk than a power-walk. I’m still pumping my arms, but it’s clear my attention is elsewhere. The station swims into view down the road and I speed up just a little. Just in case I have to keep running for fear of embarrassing myself again.
When I finally reach the station, because of fate, or bad timing, or whatever, I’m surprised to see Vinnie emerge not from the garage, but from the gate to the garden only a few feet from me. He seems surprised to see me, and I myself have stopped short from the surprise gripping my chest in a faux heart attack.
“Oh, hello there!” he says, smiling widely. He’s got a lunch pail in his right hand. He must have been having an early dinner. Perhaps he’s working late.
Erotica: No Limits Page 27