

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 family 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 family 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 family 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 unaware 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 family 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 family 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.
