Author: OneIdleHand
Title: Milf Magic
Summary: Hayley has been sliding into mid-life on a sexual down slope. A friend 
tells her of an experience that rekindles her fantasies beyond the borders of 
marriage, while living within its strength. At 43, all it takes is an attitude 
and enablers for a Milf to get what she wants. 
Keywords:  MF, M+F

Note to readers:  The stories catalogued here are not sequential.  The central 
character remains basically the same, but the experiences from one story do not 
provide a basis to others.

This story is a continuation of “Who Was It,” written when the author somehow 
knew how to write shorter stories.  That story is not required reading, but 
recommended to more fully enjoy this one.




Milf Magic


Hayley let out a small laugh.  Her world was getting gloriously frustrating of 
late.  The latest upset, though she didn’t consider it that, was the e-mail she 
was reading from her husband, Steven, who was returning from a business trip 
that afternoon.  He had sent it that morning before his first appointment.

“I'll give you a call as I leave Greenville, to give you an estimate of when 
I'll be home.  We should have at least two hours before the kids return home 
from school.

 
This is what I want:
 
In the drawer on my side of the bed is your old camera.  I think the charger is 
under my side of the bed.  Charge it.
 
Shower.  Shave in all the right places.  Literally, picture perfect.  I'm not 
saying your cunt needs to be completely shaven.
 
On the kitchen counter:  I want to find the charged camera when I come home.  On 
it, I want to see at least two pictures:
 
1) a picture of your naked left breast, preferably sticking out of some clothing 
item - t-shirt, bra, etc.
2) a picture of your freshly shaven cunt with at least one finger on it.  
 
Strip the bed of the covers except the bottom sheet.
 
On the bed, have the following set out:
 
Blindfold (in the toy bag or my drawer?  If not, find something that works.)
Two of the restraint straps.
Your favorite vibrator.
Ear muffs from the bag under the bed, likely the gray bag when gun stuff.  
There's a newer pair in there that may be more comfortable.
Two towels.
 
 
Then there's you.
 
Pick out your favorite sexy outfit.  Actually, this doesn't have to be lingerie, 
but it should be something that makes you feel like there's something beneath I 
want to fuck.  Because I do!  It should be one that you don't mind wearing for a 
little while, and one that I can free your breasts for some pictures.
 
On your abdomen or inner thigh, I want you to write a naughty message with 
lipstick.  The words are up to you.  Don't put it somewhere that you'll smear it 
before I get to it.
 
You should be reading some stories.  I want you wet and feeling slutty.  
 
As for me, don't expect me to quickly fuck you with all those toys lying around.   
I'll toy with you for only a little bit before I go wash off.  You're overdue 
for sucking my cock, you see.
 
There's something about sucking my cock you need to understand.  You did really, 
really well when you surprised me in the bathroom a few months ago doing that.  
But I want more.  You should be kneeling or squatting, as you were, with sexy 
shoes.  You should be looking up at me while you are fondling, licking and/or 
sucking my cock, and you should always look like you're enjoying it.  With such 
a beautiful gesture, don't be surprised when I take pictures.
 
This "coming home" scenario has been a fantasy of mine for quite a while. It's 
my hope that I won't always have to tell you when the time is right.  You do 
this type of preparation, and the timing is always right. Surprise me when the 
opportunities arise.  But for today, you're my play toy.




Hayley re-read the e-mail, which served only to double her frustration.  Just 15 
minutes earlier, she had committed to her mom to doing lunch.  Her mom was not 
one to take a cancellation politely, and she could detect a fib in a minute.  
Sorry, Steven.  And then the kids would be home from school.  And it had been so 
long since he had suggested anything like that.

In fact, their timing had been about the same.  Both of their libidos had taken 
a leave of absence beginning three, no, four years ago.  Now, things were 
looking up, although the timing between them had yet to coincide.  And even as 
she thought about her libido in 3rd person terms, she knew that it was really 
just herself, obviously missing what used to be a major part of her life, or, 
more likely, reawakening to it.  And surely, she could feel a familiar tingle 
that she didn’t want to let pass.

Partly, she credited Samantha for getting some drive back.  She had only known 
her for the past couple years, during which Samantha had also divorced her jerk 
of a husband.   She wasn’t shamed with a scarlet letter, but the result of her 
divorce was that it became difficult to continue socially with married people.  
It wasn’t a shunning, just an awkwardness of a single person amongst couples.  
Samantha valued Hayley as a friend as others had, if not turned away, moved 
on without her.

The benefit for Hayley was that the now single Samantha shared everything.  
Dating in this age was not something Hayley wanted to do, but for a 38 year old 
divorcee, it seemed men proposed about everything possible under the sun.  
Except marriage.  It seemed no matter the age, guys still wanted fun with no 
commitments.  Samantha’s theory was that having escaped the sexual monotony of 
their own marriages, men were looking for some time on the wild side.  It 
certainly made for entertaining lunches or phone calls when she traveled.  

For the present, sex wasn’t exactly missing from their lives, but the demands of 
work and kids and the rest of the world’s priorities seemed to leave precious 
time for them being alone together.  And there were other factors beyond just 
being busy.

First, there were the kids, teenagers now, which was hard to imagine.  And they 
didn’t go to bed conveniently at 8:00 any more.  In fact, she usually went to 
bed before they did.  And with a master bedroom that opened to their den, the 
HDTV commanded an audience of at least one kid, so any late evening liaisons 
with Steven had to remain of the less vocal variety.  She was not a less vocal 
lover.  And even those occasions were becoming less frequent as the timing of 
their respective energies didn’t always meet.  And that was too bad.  Based on 
his e-mail, Steven obviously wanted to reclaim lost ground as well.

Secondly, they had moved.  While she loved the larger house, Steven’s “Who Was 
It” games had ceased, as Craig no longer lived next door.  She had always 
wondered... heck, she was still wondering… if Steven had invited another man to 
have sex with her.  And the truth of it was a question that, in the throes of 
their lovemaking, she had almost asked Steven innumerable times.  But as much as 
she wanted to know, the mystery of those games, as she considered them, had 
excited her every bit as much.  And the memory of them continued to do the same.

Hayley thought back on it, realizing she had just under an hour before her mom 
would pick her up for lunch.  She had time for this…

The first night Steven had played that game… that was special.  She had been 
surprised, momentarily horrified, extremely turned on, and extremely well 
fucked.  Whatever the truth was, it had obviously turned Steven on.  As now, her 
recollections on that evening were always followed by a slightly guilty feeling, 
as anything like what they had done was certainly not part of what a 
conventional marriage was supposed to be.  But she also didn’t mind feeling 
guilty about it, because as often as she did, she knew that her fingers would 
bring her to a point of climatic relief.  

Hayley found this particular guilt worth revisiting, as the result was 
inevitably pleasurable.  And with that thought, she moved to the couch where she 
could make herself more comfortable.

She knew the evening had worked for Steven, too.  It had only taken a few weeks 
afterwards before he had taken the hint to try the game again, and they had 
continued periodically for several years, well after Craig’s wife had 
whatshername rejoined him.  

Hayley had told Steven she felt certain it was just him fucking her, because 
Craig wouldn’t take the risk with his gorgeous wife around.  It made sense to 
her, because, all things considered, the other option just didn’t seem possible.  
How does any man ask another to fuck his wife?  No, it couldn’t be.  Yet the 
games made it more and more difficult to think otherwise.   Ultimately, she 
didn’t want to make sense of it; she wanted to enjoy it for what it was.  She 
reached beneath her sweatpants and started engaging her slut drive.

That, she recalled, was when Steven started mixing the game up.  By that time, 
she was dressing the role – 2” heels and a corset, or a full lingerie ensemble 
with stockings, or a simple nighty, or nothing at all.  But it was always the 
same, with her bent over the kitchen counter, blindfolded, and occasionally 
handcuffed when “someone” entered the front door and starting fucking her.  

She imagined Steven running from the basement around to front door so quickly 
from when she heard the basement door shut…  But she could never detect “him,” 
whoever it was that entered the front door, breathing as if after a quick 
sprint.  She knew the distance, had tried it in fact.  She didn’t see how it was 
possible not to breathe harder. And there was absolutely no sound that 
would indicate he faked going to the basement.  As she began rubbing herself 
more earnestly, it still nagged at her.  Was it Steven?  Was it Craig?  And 
always, she would be fucked twice – presumably by Craig first, and Steven 
afterwards.  Craig rarely could recover for a second round that fast.  Of 
course, he usually went to sleep otherwise.

But then he mixed it up.  Instead of going to the basement, he would go 
upstairs.  She always tuned to sounds, particularly on those occasions.  She 
would hear his footsteps upstairs, and only seconds later, the front door would 
open and she would feel a cock pressing at her cunt.  Or another time, he went 
upstairs and “Craig” emerged from the basement door.  How did he manage that?

Her sweatpants were a hindrance, and she pulled them and her panties below her 
knees.  She used both hands now, finally entering herself with a finger.

All the evidence pointed towards it really being Craig.  It was always so 
embarrassing when she saw Kim.  She would always flush red, which often drew a 
comment not from Craig, but worse, Kim, asking is she was okay.  Craig kept a 
perpetual sunny disposition, and he was just impossible to read.   Oooh!  It was 
infuriating.  

Then Steven started getting really tricky.  Instead of leaving her at the 
kitchen counter, he began tying her wrists to the stairway spindles.  She was 
much closer to the front of the house, and if anyone approached, they would see 
her through the glass panes adjacent to the front door.  Always, it was someone 
entering from the front door. She was never left in more comfortable places like 
the bed or on the couch.  It was always, “Here’s Hayley dressed (or undressed) 
for sex.  Fuck her, ye who enter!”  She inserted a second finger, amazed at how 
quickly she got wet whenever she retraced this particular train of thought.

Then there was the coup de grace, the piece de le resistance.  It was a Saturday 
night, the kids were at her parents.  Rather than going out, Steven was going to 
grill something and they were to enjoy a nice, romantic evening.  She remembered 
vividly.  Steven marinated the chicken while she was cutting lettuce for a 
salad…

“Before we get all excited about our food, I think I want you excited about 
something else,” Steven said.

Hayley played it coy. “Ohhh, and what would I possibly have to get excited 
about, dear?”

“Well, normally all it takes is the mention of the kitchen counter, but it seems 
rather cluttered at 
the moment.”

Hayley felt an immediate tingle between her legs.  Should she tell Steven she 
had bought a super sexy and super revealing lingerie set from Frederick’s?  She 
had suffered the embarrassment of shopping for such tacky things at the mall of 
all places for just a “Who was it” occasion.  She had showered already, but the 
gym shorts and tank top were intended only for an intermediate role.

Steven was looking at her curiously; she wondered what expressions she had made 
while thinking this.  He continued, “it’s definitely something to get you 
excited.  Follow me downstairs.”

They went down the steps, and rather to the finished area, he instead led her 
into the drive-under garage.   She didn’t see anything unusual, and it was hard 
to see as the sun had set and only a small amount of light entered the garage 
door windows.  He led her to the front edge of his car.  

She looked through the windshield, but didn’t see anything.  He was standing 
beside her, and he quickly had restrained her wrists and pulled them above her 
head.  That was fast.  Then, he added handcuffs.  Her heart was racing.

“Now, a couple things you should know.  The first one, actually, you should 
remember.  Where’s Craig this weekend?”

Hayley recognized what he was saying.  “He’s home.  Alone.  His wife went… 
somewhere.”  Somewhere she couldn’t focus on or bring to mind.  He was home 
alone!

“Good.  It’s important that you keep that in mind.  The second this is that I’ve 
moved the answering machine to this wall outlet.  Maybe you’ll be getting a 
call.  First, I gotta run back upstairs and get something, plus my car keys.”

Um, car keys?

“First, my fuckable Hayley, you need your stilettos.”  She stepped into them, 
testing the reduced tension in the ropes holding her.  “And, of course, you need 
your blindfold.”  He covered her eyes, and secured it snugly.  “Balance is key,” 
and he tightened her restraints.  He had invested some time ago for very soft 
cuffed restraints.  She was thankful for it now.   “Okay, now see if you 
recognize this.”  She heard a familiar sound which she quickly identified as 
scissors.  Why would he cut her loose when he just tied her up?

Then she felt a tugging at her shirt and the warmth from his hand on her 
stomach.  She heard the scissors again, and she quickly realized that her tank 
shirt had been cut up the middle.  

“I’m glad you weren’t wearing a bra.  Those are expensive.”  With that, he 
pulled the halves of her shirt aside, exposing her breasts.  He kissed one, 
licking it slightly.  “Perfecto.”

Next, she was startled when she heard the garage door open, which rattled open 
for an eternity it seemed.  “I’m off to Publix to get some dessert.  I think the 
situation calls for it.  Oh, and here’s a riddle for you.  What happens when the 
garage door opens?”

She hadn’t come up with more than the obvious answer by the time his car 
started, and she heard him pull away.  As he was turning in the driveway, her 
heart leapt through her throat as he beeped his horn twice.  Not short beeps 
either.  

This meant, if Craig were home…  Their garage directly faced Craig’s garage, and 
his windows on the upper floors.  If Craig happened to be curious about the 
horn, he’d look and… of course! 

The garage door opener light would be on.  That’s what Steven meant.  She waited 
for the garage door to close as she heard the car slowly go down the driveway, 
but it didn’t.  She was as equally mortified by being shown half naked to an 
unsuspecting neighbor as she was turned on by the possibility of her mystery 
lover seeing his invitation.  She knew it wasn’t equal at all.  Her nipples were 
rock hard.

She waited.  Of course, she had no choice.  It seemed interminable, and the odd 
groans and creaks of the house did not do anything to soothe her.  Finally, she 
was startled when she heard a click, and it took her a few moments to realize 
the garage door opener light went out.  Silence, again.

She about shrieked when the phone rang.  After several rings, the answering 
machine picked up.  “Hi Hayley.  I’m at the store.  I’ve gotten ice cream and 
some syrup, but I’m trying to find the whipped cream, nuts, and of course, the 
cherries.  They’ve rearranged I think.  I might be a while yet.  Excuse me, 
where are the toppings for ice cream?”  Hayley heard a distinctive murmur of a 
female voice answering him. “Okay, thanks.  Anyway, Hayley, I’ll be back in a 
little while.  Sorry to leave you hanging.”  He ended the phone call, and the 
machine clicked.  

Damn him.  She changed positions so she could take turns stretching each leg.  
And her arms were getting tired.  Click.

What?  That was a different click from the answering machine.  That was a light 
switch, the one for the garage, just several feet to the side of her.  It was 
shortly after that she felt a warm breath across her neck.

It wasn’t just arousing.  And it wasn’t necessarily unexpected.  But the warmth 
spreading through her body was evidence that her passions were lit.  At this 
point, any reasoning would wait until her desires were finished.  It was a role 
that she was now well versed in, and, once again, she had no idea if it were 
Steven or Craig behind her. 
 
“Who’s there?”

Silence.

“I didn’t expect you to answer.”  She felt palms against her nipples, teasing 
her with circular motions.  “Yes, I like that.”  His hands soon moved down the 
sides of her body, then began rubbing her cunt through her shorts.  She couldn’t 
have prevented a moan from escaping her lips, even if she had wanted to.  She 
felt a hand on her abdomen, the feel of cold metal, then her shorts were cut 
away, and she was exposed to him.  Them?  She trembled at the thought.

There was nothing stopping Steven from involving others.  And as quickly, she 
crowded the thought from her mind.  She wanted this, she knew.  But even bound, 
blindfolded, and naked, this was as much her game as Steven’s.  Or Craig’s.

“I want to feel your cock in me.”  A hand began rubbing at her cunt, even as a 
mouth sucked at her nipple.  He, whoever he was, began licking and kissing his 
way up her breast to her neck, then her cheek.  He never kissed her lips during 
these occasions, and he didn’t this time, moving back to release soft breaths at 
her ear.  Was it because she would know Steven’s taste?  Her own tastes were 
pretty clear.

“Please, you always make me beg.  I want to feel you inside me.  Let my arms 
free, and fuck me however you like.”  She was uncomfortable, and “he” seemed to 
understand.  She felt her arms being freed of the restraints, although the 
handcuffs remained on.  At first, she was unsteady, but he guided her to her 
knees.  

She had expected the concrete floor, but was happily surprised to find carpet 
there.  Steven must have hidden it under his car.  And that gave her a pause, 
the realization that if this was somehow Steven, Craig might be getting quite a 
show.  If that light was really on.  She stretched her face to where… damn.  The 
light was on.  And there was no mistaking that the garage door was open.  She 
gave into it.

“Craig, Steven will be back shortly.  I want you to…”  Her voice was cut off as 
his cock pressured its way into her mouth.  This was different.  He had always 
fucked her then left.  She had never even felt his cock with anything but her 
cunt.  Even with her hands cuffed, she tried to raise them to feel him, to get 
an answer, but he pushed her away.  “I want to know, and I don’t want to…” 

Again, his cock was in her mouth, and she sucked.  She had a keen sense of 
smell, and this most definitely was probably not but still could be Steven’s 
cock.  The head felt larger, and the pre-cum tasted…”

He withdrew and leaned her over onto all fours.  Finally!  

“Good, yes Craig.  I want you.  I want to feel your big balls slap against me as 
you fuck me hard.”  He entered her with one smooth motion, all the way.  She 
groaned.  He began pounding into her, his balls slapping against her.  Were they 
bigger than Steven’s?  She could begin to hear him breathing heavily, and their 
rhythm was on its way to taking her to that magical place.  He felt so good, 
hitting her in just the right place.  He kept at it long enough she could hear 
him breathing with the effort, above her own moans.  “Yes!  Yes!  Fuck me, 
Craig!  Yes!”

And then he withdrew.  “No… nooo.  I was almost there….”  And she felt that good 
place slipping away.

He rolled her over onto her back.  Okay, he had only fucked her from the rear 
before.  “Yes, fuck me this way.  It’s more… personal.  Watch me cum with you in 
me.”  She felt his fingers toy with her clit, then… nothing.  “Craig?  Please 
fuck me.  I didn’t feel you come inside of me.  We can’t be done; I want more of 
you.”

She felt his hands on an ankle, and then the other.  Quickly, both were raised 
as the straps were secured to whatever hooks were in the ceiling.  Then, her 
hands were placed at her cunt, and her need was so great that she lacked all 
modesty as she began masturbating.

“Is this what you want, Craig?  You want to watch me do myself?  My lips are 
already stretched, you felt so good and your cock is so big.  I’m thinking of 
the way you fucked me.”  It was shortly after that she felt Craig’s cum strike 
her body, first her neck, then trailing down her body, on her breasts, her 
abdomen, and finally, her arms and hands.  His hot cum felt like rain; he must 
be standing over her.   She envisioned him stroking his cock, emptying himself 
on her.  “Yes… Yes… Yes…” And with that, her body shuddered and she felt the 
internal spasms of ecstasy roll over her.

She recovered in a few moments, before adding, “That was a surprise.  Something 
different.  I hope you’ll do it again sometime.”  As she said it, she already 
had the feeling that he had left, silently working his way back… to his house?  
There was no answer.  There never was.

It was only several minutes before she heard Steven’s car in the driveway, or, 
at least, she hoped it was Steven’s.  She could hear the car turning towards the 
garage, then stopping.  She could only imagine what she looked like, with her 
legs spread, her cunt well fucked and caught in his headlights, not to mention 
what felt like a warm sheet of cum on her body.    She was trying to think when 
the last time Steven and she had sex and if he could generate that much cum 
since…

She heard the car turn off, the door open, then shut shortly thereafter.  Then, 
assorted noises, which she guessed at and were quickly confirmed.  Steven 
started scooping dessert.  It was frigid.  Especially there.  If Craig hadn’t 
been watching, he probably was now!

Hayley remembered that night so well because she relived it often, and, in fact, 
had typed it into her computer so she wouldn’t forget any details.  She was wet, 
but she hadn’t overcome the doubts and the guilt just yet.

There were those familiar questions…

Did Steven really go to the store?  It seemed so, and in which case it was 
Craig.  If Steven faked going to the store, why was the ice cream so frigid?  It 
would have softened if he had kept it anywhere handy, and she was certain there 
had been no footsteps upstairs.  And the one that bugged her most was why, when 
he returned, why hadn’t he closed the garage door?  If it hadn’t been Craig, 
then Steven went through a lot of extra time enjoying his dessert while Craig, 
if presumed to not be involved at all, could watch from his house.

Had she violated her marital vows? Even if Steven had set this up, she had in 
every way been a partner to it.  And if it was Steven being as clever as he 
could be, why did the prospect of it being Craig excite her so much?

And that excitement, as usual, overcame any guilt, and she climaxed easily.


Hayley was reminded of another aspect of her latent sexuality several days 
later.  Steven was listening to a sports station while they were driving, when 
the hosts were briefly talking about Angelina Jolie and said something about her 
being a Milf.  

“Is Anjelina Jolie a Milf?” she asked.

“Definitely,” Steven asked.

“Good, I guess.  What’s a Milf?”

“You’re kidding me.  You don’t know what that is?”

She shook her head.

“Acronym.  Mom I’d Like to Fuck.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Nope.  The term has been around for years.”

“What’s the criteria?” she asked.

“Well, actually, I don’t suppose there’s any, other than she be a mom and look 
fuckable.”

“Do you go around looking at moms judging if they’re fuckable?”

Steven laughed.  “Do you look at dads judging if they would be good lovers?”

Hayley thought about that, but didn’t say anything.  Of course she did.

Steven continued, “It’s not age specific – it’s not just young moms, or older 
moms.  At our age, though, you can generally look at a woman and see if she’s 
happy.  Some moms may look worn from raising kids and just getting older, but 
there remains a certain look in their eyes and some effort to maintain their 
figures that say ‘Milf.’  If they look way out of shape, or worn out, or lack 
any indication of having fun in their lives, probably not.  As much as 
appearance, it’s an attitude of sexuality.”

Hayley put her hand on Steven’s thigh.  “Am I a Milf?”

“You have to ask?”



That weighed on Hayley.  Sex had become routine, and if not exactly that, it was 
just one of the many things that made up her life.  For quite a while, it had 
been a main focus.  She had maintained her figure very well, but age was 
catching her.  There were crow’s feet at her eyes, her boobs hung a little 
lower, and when she was honest, she recognized the beginnings of not freckles 
but age spots in a few places.  Any gray hairs were obviously misplaced by 
someone else, and she removed them at once.

She felt pretty good about herself, actually.  But she had difficulty imaging 
another male, like Craig maybe had done, standing over her naked body these 
years later and being turned on.  Maybe.  Possibly?  Just thinking about it made 
her nipples stiffen.  She and Steven needed to get kinky again to some degree, 
and soon, or she would fall apart.

And this thoughtful reflection amplified her frustration as she read a new e-
mail from Samantha, who, by the read of it, had convinced herself that she was 
going to far Orient when she was only going to San Francisco on business, with a 
dinner planned in Chinatown.

Hayley replied with her thoughts after each section of Samantha’s:

H,

You wouldn’t believe it.  I was going up the elevator at the airport, and this 
like 20 something year old guy said, “hey, you got nipple rings? That’s cool!”  
I was wearing just the little bars, but I guess they showed through my top.  He 
said it gives him hope for getting older.  I’ve felt as sexy as a fox since I 
got them.  It was strange.  It was like he was discussing the weather, just 
matter-of-fact, but it got me jazzed for my visit here.

*Sam, you are what you feel.  Your hood ornaments are probably a big reason you 
get these crazy offers from men.  And don’t play innocent!  I don’t think you 
exactly keep them a secret.*

I thought SF was just a bunch of gay guys, but I’m getting plenty of looks.  I 
briefly met the clients tonight also.  Nice enough bunch.  There’s a lady too, 
but she doesn’t say much.  Anyway, I remembered to read their business cards 
closely – my boss told me all about interacting with Japanese and the 
formalities I have to follow.  They’re all business during the day, and more 
relaxed at night.  Our competitors don’t hold a candle to what we have, so it 
should be an easy sale.

*I know you can do it!*

Going out alone for dinner.  It sucks.  I’ll write or call tomorrow.

*Or order room service!  Maybe some stud will deliver for you ; )*


Samantha was living the singles life, and how different that seemed.  Nipple 
rings… must be painful.  But in the context of being single, she could 
understand the statement they made.  38 and sexually on the prowl.  Sam, if she 
were a mom, would definitely be a Milf.


She didn’t hear from Samantha again until two days later.

H,

We’ve got to talk when I get back.  They took me to a private club.  I’m so 
caught up in it I can hardly type.  It’s a men’s club, okay?  But it’s weird.  
Have you heard of bukkake?  It’s like this Japanese ceremony or something, where 
a bunch of men have their cocks sucked by a woman and they all cum on her face.  
Kinda gross.  The lady I mentioned I met who works with the Japanese, she tried 
to explain it to me this morning.  She says it’s a ceremony.  I think it’s just 
men being boys.

Anyway, this club… it’s a men’s club, only, the men don’t pay.  The men get in 
for free, and the women pay.  It’s not just Japanese, either.  There were as 
many white women there.  After a tougher day of negotiations than I thought, I 
finally closed my deal.  So when we all went out afterwards, I thought we’d 
celebrate.  Food.  Wine.  Nope.  You see where this is going.  

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Get this.  Everyone dumps their shoes at the entrance.  Men go through one door, 
women the other.  I get “assisted” out of my clothes into this satin robe.  It 
felt really good but I’m wondering, um, why?  Isn’t this like dinner and drinks?  
I guess if I’m there, and theoretically paying for it, I should know what I’m in 
for.

They have these private rooms, I don’t know how many.  This lady, Ming, and I 
were in one.  You walk in, and you’re surrounded by a balcony that’s maybe 2 
feet off the ground, on all four sides of this tiny room.  One bit folds down 
where you come in.  Then there’s another door at balcony level.

There’s just enough room for Ming and I not to bump into each other.   There are 
two small towels on the floor, and there’s enough room in the middle for a tiny 
tea pot and two cups.  Ming sits o a towel.  I sit.  Okay, Ming pours the tea.  
I drink.  I don’t know what was in that drink!  Woozy!

Suddenly, there’s this gong sound – I don’t think it was a real gong.  Before I 
can ask what’s with that, these two little Japanese girls with painted faces 
come in and take our silk robes.  I’m wearing nothing now by my nipple rings, 
get it?  Then we lay down, and I have to stick my legs under part of the 
balcony.  Yeah, it’s that small.  And we get this incredible massage, front and 
back.  Would have been better with a guy, but it felt really good.  Did I 
mention I was woozy?

Gong.  I’m lying on my stomach, and the girls disappear.  Ming, my now intimate 
buddy, looks at the floor and won’t answer me or make eye contact.  Well, that’s 
because she knew what was coming.  Those balconies?  In come 10 guys.  I 
counted!  And they’re naked!  Ming stands up, and starts to take turns sucking 
on their cocks.  Are you kidding me?  I’m woozy in the head, and suddenly 
there’s someone’s cock in my face, so I start sucking it.  I mean, it’s right 
there. And then the next guy.

H, what a mess.  You wouldn’t believe.  We gotta talk when I get back.



*Sam, Wow.  I can’t wait to hear about it.  I told you about “Craig” and how he 
stood above me and sprayed me, but the thought of 10… wow.  Part of me says it 
sounds disgusting and it’s a shame they used you like that.  The other part of 
me, that wild part, wants the address!  Can’t wait till you’re back to hear 
more.

      H.*

Hayley hit the “send” button, aware that she was feeling a sense of 
disappointment.  It seemed she was getting left out of all the fun lately.


Over the next few weeks, Hayley began observing others, both men and women, more 
carefully.  She tried to figure out which of the women that she saw around would 
qualify as a Milf.  Some were fairly easy to rule out.  Overweight, too young, 
too old, too skinny, a plainness in what they wore.  That wasn’t so hard.  So 
she began observing men around the women who weren’t immediately thrown out.  
Men, she noticed, looked a lot.  And it didn’t seem to matter whether they wore 
wedding rings or were with their spouses.  

Steven had been fairly right in his assessment.  Mom’s in their 30’s certainly 
had an edge over those in their 40’s.  But regardless, there were several tell 
tale signs.  Women with nice legs and pretty faces drew a first look, but it was 
the women with at least moderate sized breasts that drew the second look, and 
that look would linger if the woman had a relatively flat abdomen.  

As a result, it wasn’t a subconscious effort for Hayley to reclaim some self-
confidence.  She put more effort into crunches and planks at the gym. She wasn’t 
fat, or even flabby, but her tone could use more definition.

She also modified her choice of clothes just slightly.  She was still the mom of 
two teenagers and active socially, so she had to maintain a measure of modesty.  
Still, she began wearing low-heeled shoes, rather than sneakers, more regularly 
for the slight boost in highlighting her calves, and she tended to wear V-neck 
t-shirts more frequently.  They were generally more snug than most of her other 
shirts or blouses, and, of course, there was cleavage to consider.

It was, she thought, Milf magic. She had noticed before her recent changes that 
men had already favored her with a second look rather frequently.  Now the 
challenge for her was to not invite unwelcome advances. She could no longer 
check to see if men were looking without bringing the wolves to her door. 

It was somewhere in the Publix produce section that she noticed a man looking 
her way.  He was with his wife, probably late 30’s, and good looking.  At aisle 
three, she was squatting, looking at the price differences in the 60 oz. apple 
juice brands, when she noticed his sandaled feet next to her.  She looked up 
slightly and saw his package at roughly eye level.   She could feel his eyes 
looking down her tank top, so she waited a few extra seconds to make certain 
that his standing there was no accident.  She selected a container of apple 
juice and twisted towards him before placing it in her cart.  He wasn’t shy, his 
attention firmly on her breasts as she carried through the motion.   

“Hi, I’m Jerry.”  Wow, and married too.

“Hi.  I’m not interested, but thanks for noticing.”  She moved down the aisle, 
and she could feel him watching her butt.  Sad, yet fulfilling.  Steven and 
Craig.  Devoted wife vs. wannabe slut. She was one conflicted person.

She went home to put away the groceries, and although she felt the need to 
masturbate, she didn’t have enough time to do it properly before meeting 
Samantha for lunch.   

Samantha gave her a hug when they met at their favorite sandwich shop, and they 
were able to find a semi-private table.  

“Well aren’t you a sight!” Samantha said.

“Huh?”

“It’s not that cold, so something has gotten your motor running.”

Hayley looked down, her nipples were hard, obvious even through the bra.  “Ah.” 
She explained what had happened at the grocery store.

Samantha said, “Well, that shouldn’t be surprising.  You look great, and you 
seem to have come out of your shell.  You haven’t looked better, or friskier, 
since I’ve known you.”

“Well,” replied Hayley, “maybe it’s just that scene in San Francisco you told me 
about.”

Samantha’s eyes opened wide.  “Yeah, I still think those guys were jerks to do 
that to me, but it’s a memory to warm me on many a cold winter night.  Or every 
night, for that matter.”   There was a brief silence.  “And you too, I think,”

Hayley laughed. “You know me too well.”

“Sister, the evidence is staring me in the face, and it’s not just your more 
obvious features.  You look like that ‘other you’ from some years ago you’ve 
told me about.  It’s pretty amazing.”

“Amazing is what I want to feel, but I’m not there yet.  Steven’s going to have 
to start making some more time for me.”

“You can’t mean that he doesn’t make time for you.  I can’t imagine him…”

“No, but the way I’m feeling, the ordinary pace of our sex life feels like 
abandonment.  And your little story didn’t cool that off a bit,” Hayley said.

“Oooooh.  Okay,  So the guy in the store today, my little adventure... what else 
has gotten into your shorts?”

Hayley grinned.  “Nothing that doesn’t belong there.  Hey, have you seen that 
PBS show about teenagers in some county in Georgia?”

“I heard about it.  Couple years ago I think.”

“I didn’t know it was dated.  Anyway, they must be replaying it.  It’s about 
these teenagers and a whole culture of sex that exists amongst the middle class 
ones.  They do all kinds of crazy things before their parents get home.” 

“Um, okay.  That’s hardly new.”

“I know, but it’s just so… strange.  I mean, they’re only 16 and 17, and they’re 
already into group sex.”

“Ah to be 16 again…”

“Oh, stop.  You know what I mean,” Hayley said.

“Actually, if you’re concerned about your kids, I understand completely.  But I 
think it’s the group stuff you want to talk about.”

Hayley was a bit perplexed.  She was finding it difficult to sort how it was she 
felt about it.  “I don’t know.  It’s just a whole way of living that is 
different.   I don’t know whether Craig was ever involved with me, but for my 
part, it’s always…”

“Ever involved with you?”  Samantha laughed, then whispered.  “By the sound of 
it, your neighbor fucked you 5-6 times a year with your husband’s permission, 
and you say ‘involved?’  C’mon.  Be straight.  Whether it’s the fantasy or real 
thing, you enjoyed it as if he did.  You can’t stand in judgment of that.  Face 
it, you got off on it.”

Hayley sighed.  “It’s still different from the girls who give blow jobs and more 
at parties just for kicks.”

Samantha smiled.  “Hayley, my friend.  You still have pebbles in your shirt, and 
I dare you to tell me that the sexual animal in those teens is any different 
from a married woman screwing a neighbor.”

Hayley shook her head, trying to shake the logic of her friend.

“Tell me this, then.  You’re, what?  43?  Yeah.  If you went to that club, would 
you have left?”

Hayley didn’t say anything.

“Uh-huh.  Split the crowd in half.  If there were five guys…”  Samantha looked 
around and lowered her voice.  “If there were five naked guys with their stiff 
cocks within reach, would you run away?”

Hayley stared at a picture on the wall.

“Give me a break.  And if those same five guys weren’t content just cumming on 
you, but wanted to screw you, would you leave?”

Hayley looked at her sandwich plate.

“And if your husband gave his permission?”

Hayley shivered.

“Honey, that Milf-magic you’ve been working on may be fun for show, but trust 
me.  Eat your sandwich.  This isn’t the place for your hands to be between your 
thighs.”

Hayley recoiled at what she had begun, and quickly brought her hands to her 
sandwich.  Dear god.



On Friday, two weeks later, she received an e-mail from Steven at his office.

Hi,

It’s date night.  If you made plans with your mom, or anyone else for that 
matter, CANCEL THEM.

This isn’t just a dinner date.  Wear the black dress with the spaghetti straps, 
the matching shoes, the black shelf bra, and no panties.  Drive yourself to the 
W hotel in Midtown, and I’ll meet you in the bar around 7:00.  

Fortunately, this time Steven had given her most of the day to get ready.  If 
someone called, she wasn’t even going to answer.   She took a long hot bubble 
bath, enjoying the relaxation.  With her skin softened, she tended to the 
shaving.  Steven would be pleased.  She had left only a thin line 
of hair on her pubic mound.  She showered to wash her hair, and then set in for 
the task of drying and styling.  Then there were her nails to be done and 
moisturizers to replenish her skin.  

Finally, she dressed, and appraised herself in the mirror.  Had he not requested 
it, she might have gone bra-less, but the effect of the shelf bra made her 
breasts even more noticeable.  She could live with that.  It’s why she had 
bought it after all.  Her dress revealed ample cleavage that was firm and… 
enticing, she thought.  

The kids would be home a little late from school, but they were old enough to 
understand a seductive look, and she didn’t really care to explain to them why 
their mom was dressed as she was.  So, she left early.  She arrived at the 
hotel, had the valet park the car, and went to Whiskey Bar.  There was only one 
other man at the bar, but there were several couples at tables nearby.  The W 
was a trendy masculine hotel, and the men dressed well here.  She liked that. 

She had a glass of chardonnay.  She was not a tremendous fan of wines, but it 
seemed appropriate, given the wall display of bottles and the elegance of the 
place.   She realized as she began her second glass that she had eaten only a 
bagel for lunch, and it would be best to eat something, or Steven would find her 
either drunk or asleep.  She asked about hors d’oeuvres, and decided that a 
shrimp cocktail would be perfect, with crackers and cheese.

She was surprised no one approached her, but ultimately pleased she didn’t have 
to contend with men on the make.  Finally, it was 7:00, and she expected to see 
Steven at any moment.  She waited a few more minutes, and found the need to go 
to the restroom.  She let the bartender know that if a man came looking for her, 
she would be right back.

Several minutes later, she approached the bar, and there was no sign of Steven.  
However, the pace of the place was picking up.  It appeared a group had arrived, 
as there were men and women now seated on many of the bar stools.  Her seat 
remained, with her wine glass and the remaining crackers.  She was getting looks 
from men at the bar now, their wives seemingly oblivious, and she hoped that 
Steven would hurry.  It was 7:20.

The bar phone rang.  “Yes sir, she is.  Very well sir.”  She could recognize 
Steven’s handiwork a mile away, and wasn’t at all surprised when the bartender 
handed her a room key.  A suite on the 30th floor, the top.  

Upon exiting the elevator, she found the suite, with a doorplate that read “The 
Extreme WOW Suite.”  She knocked, waited patiently for a few moments, then used 
the card pass to enter the room.

The room was lavishly decorated.  There were two couches, a dining table with 
chairs and a vase of flowers, two flat panel TV’s, and two recliners.  It seemed 
the furniture had been moved around a bit, as one of the dining chairs had been 
set in front of the window, facing out to the city lights.   She recognized the 
symbolism of having her back to the door at once.

The room opened to a large, by hotel standards, kitchen with a bowl of fruit in 
a basket and an iced bottle of champagne in a bucket.  She peered in the 
refrigerator.  There was an assortment of beer and other beverages that she 
assumed the hotel charged for whatever was taken.

Steven had spent some money on this.  The bottle of champagne had already been 
opened, apparently recently, and a glass poured.  It was cold, and she drank it 
as she continued wondering the suite.

The room was dimly lit so that she could see the lighted drive leading to the 
hotel.  She ventured further, to find a smaller office area, then finally the 
bedroom.  Again, it was dimly lit, the shades were open, and the view of the 
city had glass from floor to ceiling.  The central feature, however, was not the 
view outside, but the view inside.  The only thing separating the extra large 
shower stall from the bedroom was a floor to ceiling pane of clear glass.  
Designed by a man, no doubt.

But no Steven.

She returned to living area, at which she discovered a note pinned amongst the 
bouquet of flowers.  She opened it.   “You know you want it.  S.”  It wasn’t 
Steven’s handwriting, but perhaps it was the florist’s.

That was rather enigmatic.  She didn’t see any other surprises, so she worked 
her way back to the bedroom to see if she had missed anything.  She had.   

On the bed pillow was another small envelope.  The note read, “If you want to 
explore new horizons, go back to the main room and sit in the chair.  Do not get 
up or turn around when the door opens.  If you want a more conventional romantic 
evening, return to the bar by 7:45, and I’ll meet you there.  S”  This time, it 
was his handwriting.

She returned to the living area, pulse racing and her heart in her throat.  She 
wasn’t sure what he meant by exploring new horizons, but… she couldn’t think of 
any horizons lately that she would rule out!  And the imagery of her back to the 
door had her hooked.  She had no doubts Steven knew that, too.  She sat in the 
chair, wondering if she would find out the truth about Craig this night.  She 
was already wet.

It seemed forever before the door opened, but it was likely only 10 minutes.  
She sensed footsteps behind her on the carpet, and she was able to see Steven’s 
reflection in the window as he approached closer.  Only, maybe it wasn’t him.  
She wanted to stand up and turn around, but… she had to trust in the game.  

Hands soon reached across the back of the chair and began rubbing her shoulders.  
The man was about Steven’s height, but he wore a mask over his head.  It was 
cutaway so that his mouth and nose were visible, and eye holes were also 
apparent.  Otherwise, she couldn’t make out a thing.  He was well dressed, 
though, possibly in a tuxedo.

She heard the door open again and gave a small start, but the man pressed her 
shoulders gently, letting her know that she should stay seated.  As quickly as 
the door had closed, it opened again.  This repeated until she could make out 
five more men standing abreast in the reflection in the window, their white 
shirts appearing like floating V’s in the night.

At once, her best and worst fears were confirmed.  The note on the flowers was 
likely from Samantha, not Steven.  “You know you want it.”  Had she set this up?  
Or had she conspired with Steven?

A blindfold was offered to her, without words.  She shook her head.  This was 
something she wanted to see.  The blindfold was folded and placed on the dining 
table.

The man came to her side and offered her his hand.  She rose from the seat and 
turned to face the men.  She couldn’t read them at all.  There seemed to be 
something appreciative, perhaps, in the way that they were breathing and in the 
path that their eyes traveled.

She was appreciative as well.  She couldn’t tell their age, but their shape 
suggested men who took care of themselves, regardless.  Who were they?  From 
somewhere, she noticed that a fairly plush rug had been rolled out on the floor.  
Its purpose was obvious.

She was led into the middle of the rug, and the men formed a circle around her.  
Her escort kept hold of her hand, as the man opposite took her other hand and 
raised it to his mouth.  They both kissed her hand gently, then she was rotated 
so that the next pair could do the same.  She was aware that each man had an 
opportunity to admire her front and back as she turned.   Finally, one of the 
men slipped another note into her hand.  She read, “You have a safe phrase.  It 
is “Milfed out.”  Should you say it, every man will stop what they are doing and 
leave.  There is not a man here who does not want to do what you do not want 
done.  None will speak, but will comply with anything that you request or deny.  
If you accept this, say ‘please begin.’”  

Hayley’s legs were suddenly weak, but her voice sounded surprisingly strong when 
she said, “Please, begin.” 

With that, a man behind her placed his hands on her shoulders and worked them 
down to her wrists.  He gently but firmly pulled her arms behind her, and he 
stepped closer to kiss the nape of her neck.  It seemed the rest had an 
understanding of the proceedings, because each man approached, traced the edge 
of her dress over her cleavage with a single finger, then gave her a soft kiss 
on the lips.

And as soon as they had completed that task, they got down to business.  The man 
behind her pulled her shoulder straps down, then helped her dress fall to the 
floor by freeing it from her breasts.  And just that quick, 6 strangers were 
admiring her naked body.  Other than a doctor, Steven had been the only man to 
see her naked since… Oh, yes…Craig?  Maybe. 

She was left standing before them in her shoes, stockings, shelf bra and 
garters.  Her arms were once again outstretched and she was slowly turned around 
so that each could devour her breasts and her cunt with their eyes.  She was 
fairly shocked, when her rotation was complete, that they hadn’t mauled her 
breasts with their hands.  Or, perhaps, it was because she was supposed to be 
the one in control.  Time for a test.

“You,” she pointed at one.  I want you to gently suck on my breast.”

He stepped forward quickly, and reached to her breast as he bent towards it. 

“I didn’t say fondle it.  Just your mouth.”  As quickly, he complied.  After a 
few moments, she said, “That’s good.  Thank you.”

“You, place a finger on my cunt, then taste me.”  The man reached down and wiped 
her cunt lips, which seemed super wet, before licking his fingers.

“Alright, gentlemen.  I’m not one for patience.  Let me see your cocks.”  With 
that, each man unzipped his pants, and erect cocks were quickly displayed for 
her.  She was surprised that no pants were lowered, but the sight of cocks 
protruding from tuxedos was affecting, and almost humorous.  She got on her 
knees and randomly picked one to suck.  Remembering Steven’s instructions in his 
e-mail, she looked up at the man’s face, as she first grasped his cock then 
began licking its length before finally taking him in her mouth.  She could feel 
him begin to 
tremble slightly, and backed off.  “Oh no you don’t.  You’re going to save that 
for a little bit.”  

She moved on to the next.  Somewhere along the circle, she found a cock that she 
knew belonged to Steven.  She gave him the same look as the others, and neither 
gave an indication they knew the other.  Still, she was happy he was there.

After she had sucked each, she said, “I can only assume that each of you is 
aware of a fantasy I have.  I’m going to lie on the floor, and I want each of 
you to cum on me, but only when you feel you’ve worked those cocks up to giving 
me the biggest loads of your life.”

Hayley laid back on the floor, and spread her legs to allow herself to 
masturbate.  She watched, excitedly, as each man began stroking his cock in 
earnest.  “That’s it, guys.  I want you to show me how you do it.  By the way, 
you can cum on me anywhere you want, from any distance.  I just want to see it.”

With that, one apparently couldn’t handle the verbal encouragement and launched 
his load.  It covered one thigh, her hands, and parts of an arm.  “Oooo, that 
was good, thank you.”  She lifted her hand to her nose to smell his jism while 
finger fucking herself with her other hand.  She wiped some of his cum on her 
breast, and put both hands to work between her legs.

Another man bent to straddle her, her arms caught between his legs.  He pointed 
his cock towards her breasts, and as she raised her head for a better view, she 
felt his cum strike her chin and nose, before the additional spurts struck her 
neck and breasts.   He worked the last remaining drops out into her belly 
button, then stood, clearly pleased with himself. 

Another man kneeled between her legs.  It was the largest of the cocks.  Most 
were roughly 5 to 7 inches, but this man’s was the longest by a couple inches.   
“That’s a beautiful cock.  I can’t wait to see it cum.”  She was caught by her 
attention to the cocks, and not the men sporting them.  Perhaps it was due to 
their remaining clothed and the masks.  But there was a man there also, and he 
was drinking in the sight of her rubbing her cunt and occasionally looking up to 
her breasts.   She was feeling playful.  “Somehow, I don’t think you’re aiming 
for my hands, though.  You must be aiming for my cunt, is that right?”

She could see a wildness in his eyes and a tautness in his face.  “Here, let me 
show you.”  With that, she used her fingers to spread her cunt lips, giving him 
a clear view of her most private part.  He spurted fast.  It wasn’t spurts like 
the other, but more like a stream that covered not only her cunt, but her mound 
and abdomen as well.  She was stunned by the amount of cum, and was speechless 
as it first pooled on her before running off to the sides.

Hayley began fingering herself, which caused a mopping motion with her arms, 
spreading or retaining it, she wasn’t sure.  

She replayed the image mentally, arousing herself further with the hope of 
seeing it again.  “That was… amazing.  I hope you have…”

Her words were cut off as someone placed his cock on her forehead and without 
warning blasted hot cum on her eyes, in her mouth, and in her hair.  She was 
just beginning to move her hand to clear her eyes when she felt more cum strike 
her breasts and another stream hit her face.  She opened her eyes slightly, 
barely able to see, but she could imagine how she must look.  It was part of 
what she had imagined until this evening.  The smell of cum overwhelmed her 
senses, but it didn’t stop her motor from running, and replaying the images that 
she could, she brought herself to a quick, and surprisingly loud orgasm.  And 
even as she did, the last of the men rained his load upon her face and neck, 
standing over her as he worked the final drops out onto her eyes and hair.

Her body relaxed a little, and she gathered her wits.  She cleared her left eye 
slightly.  Her eyelids were sticky, and she was looking through a fog.  The men 
were still standing around her, looking at her, and it seemed their cocks were 
already regaining interest.  In… what?  She had certainly fantasized about the 
scene that Samantha had described, and even though the setting was different, 
her fantasies always moved on to the next step.  But she hadn’t discussed that 
with anyone.  This was… a big deal.

She decided she needed a slightly clearer head, and cleaner one, before making a 
decision.  “I’m… going to go rinse off, but for now, I want you to stay.”  And 
with that, she headed to the shower.

Once in the bathroom, she looked at herself in the mirror.  Wow.  Extreme Wow.  
The suite was appropriately named.  

She started the shower, testing the temperature and turned again to look in the 
mirror.  She used her palms to further clear her eyes of cum, finding it a 
hopeless task without using a towel.  She leaned closer to try to focus, 
trembling slightly as she observed what they had done.  She was coated with cum.  
And globs of it remained in her hair, poised to drip at any moment.  

She unclasped her bra and removed the saturated remainder of her lingerie, 
dropping them on the floor.  She wiped her palms down the slope of her breasts, 
then cupping them while testing the feel and stickiness of all the cum.  What 
she had just done was amazing.  She then stepped into the shower with a bar of 
soap and the courtesy vial of shampoo.  She was going to need all of it.

After she rinsed her hair the second time, she turned to reach for the soap.  
Only, she turned where normally there would be a solid wall, and instead she saw 
6 men watching her bathe.  Her nipples hardened immediately.

The sight of them immediately returned her thoughts to the very near future.  
They had zipped their pants, but she could tell they were all hard.  And she 
also knew that they had come to the bedroom without any intention of just 
cumming on her again.  They were here for a Milf.  They wanted to fuck her.  It 
was hard to grasp that.  Six men wanted to fuck her.  Hayley, wife and mother of 
two.

Could she?  She supposed that’s what Steven had meant with the note – they 
wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want to do.  But clearly, he supported the idea.  
And whoever they were, he must trust them.   Besides that, they were… Milf food.  
Each one had a decent body, no one too paunchy, or too old, or… too young?  She 
could tell they were talking amongst themselves; if only she could hear what 
they were saying.

Hayley kept her position, facing them through the glass wall.  She continued 
washing herself, even though she felt she was already clean.  Her hands were no 
longer sticky.  That was progress, wasn’t it?  But the odor of cum remained 
thick in her senses.  She lathered her breasts, slowly, letting them watch.  
Damn, she was hot.  

The men… were also affected.  Several removed their shoes and stepped out of 
their pants completely, exposing their cocks to her while beginning to fondle 
themselves.  She raised a foot to a small seat in the shower and began lathering 
her leg as she glanced to the side to look at their cocks.  She was aware of the 
dangling of her breasts and exaggerated her movements to keep their interest, as 
if they would lose it.   She looked them over… all had completely removed their 
clothes…the long one, an average one, a thick, short one with a huge ball sac,  
Mount Sturdy for the thick big one, and a lean one with a big head.  Hmm.

She washed the other leg briefly, showing them her rear, before turning towards 
them again.  She took the bar of soap and began to rub it between her legs, 
which caused tingling in all the right places.  Men with masks.  Who were they?  
Did it matter?  She felt it should, but…

She took the bar of soap and inserted it slightly between her cunt lips.  None 
of the men were watching her eyes, she noticed.  She spread her legs a little 
wider, then spread her lips with her fingers, and inserted the bar of soap, 
gently.  Damn!  She wanted them all.

She turned to face the shower head, quickly rinsing herself off.  She exited, 
reached for a towel and… decided against it.  Modesty was not what the situation 
called for.  Nor did she need to be particularly dry.

Walking around the corner of the bathroom and into the bedroom, her nipples 
stiffened even more as she felt the cool hotel room air.   She stopped short of 
them and held her hand up.  “Gentlemen, I can only guess that you’ve been 
discussing whether I’m willing to take you all on.   I didn’t expect any of 
this, but I can tell you that, under one condition, I want each and every one 
of you to fuck me.  But, in this day and age…”  

A man pointed towards the dresser, where she saw a fairly sizeable box reading 
“Trojans – Ribbed.”  

The words escaped even before she realized she was saying them.  “Oh, my…”  
Steven had thought of everything. 

She looked back at the men, and then at their cocks.  She smiled as she looked 
up at them once 
more.  “Ohhh, yes!  It seems you thought of everything.”

Well, there was no point in beating around the bush.  “You,” she pointed at one, 
“pull those covers off the bed.  I want you…second.  But first, I want you.”  
She stepped closer to a man.  “I think it’s only fair.  Women seem to be 
expected to shave their cunts, but you’re the only one who shaved his cock and 
balls.”  She had noticed how surprisingly smooth he had made his cock and 
pubic area.  It was a small mystery, and one that she wanted to feel inside her.  
She walked over to the box and removed a package.  She handed it to him.  “Here, 
open this, while I get you ready.”

With his cock fully erect and the head in her mouth, she reached up for the 
condom.  She backed off, staring at it close.  Big!   She started working the 
condom over the head.  “Now, I want you…”

She was cut off as he quickly grasped her shoulders and laid her on the edge of 
the bed.  It was a high bed, she realized, as she saw the men gather around to 
watch.  The man spread her legs and stepped between them.  He teased her only 
briefly with his finger, before approaching closer with his cock.  Then he was 
in her, her lubrication offering no resistance.  Just like that, a stranger 
was fucking her.  

It was about his fifth or thirtieth hard stroke when it dawned on her that her 
husband was somewhere there watching.  It turned her on even more thinking about 
Steven as she watched…felt… the mystery man’s cock thrust into her again.   How 
would he respond seeing her get intimate with these men?  Pfft.  Later!

She felt movement on the mattress, and a cock brushing her check made her 
realize that someone, a completely unknown someone, wanted her to suck his cock.  
She propped herself up on her elbows for a better view of #1, who took the 
opportunity to grab one of her breasts.  She couldn’t believe what she was 
seeing… what her husband was seeing… she moaned as the cock once again brushed 
her cheek.  She… had no time for that just now.

“Guys,” it was becoming more difficult to speak as #1 increased his pace, “This 
is new for me.”  She let out a small cry as he hit a really good spot.  “We’ve 
got all night…first round, I really want… to watch… each of you fuck me… one on 
one.”  Speaking was difficult without air!   “We… can go crazy after that.”  

The man at her head withdrew, and she was able to watch the one fucking her.  He 
had a long stride, showing himself quite skilled as he withdrew fully before 
driving into her with his full length.   

He had large, powerful hands now cupping her butt, and his abdomen showed every 
sign of a workout regimen.  She looked up to see his face… but the mask.  His 
eyes were intense… meeting hers, then watching her breasts bounce, then watching 
her own shaven cunt receive his shaven shaft.  It was beautiful.

His pace became faster, and just as she started concentrating on her own 
sensations, he let go a groan and came.  She felt her own build-up begin to fade 
away.  Rats.  He lingered within her, and she could feel his cock twitch.  She 
looked up.  Nice smile, too.  What to say?  “Thanks, stud! I hope you’ll do me 
again later.”

Number two was already properly “dressed” and ready to enter her, but she wanted 
it differently.  She stepped to the floor and bent over the bed, offering 
herself from the rear.   So much for watching each one, but she could make out 
much of his image reflected in the window glass.   The feeling of his cock as he 
entered her vanquished the emerging thought of who might be looking in from the 
blackness beyond the window.   He fucked her hard.  Just what she wanted.  
“Yes!  Fuck me hard!  I want to feel your balls slap against me! … That’s it, 
yes!”

She rocked backwards, meeting his thrusts.  She noticed men watching them from 
the end of the bed, and she grabbed her swaying breast.  It didn’t hurt to give 
them a show, and it certainly felt good as she tweaked her nipple.  

He came soon… too soon for him, but… she had others waiting.   Her motor was 
running, and she wanted more.  She didn’t feel an anxious need to climax, which 
was perfect for this particular occasion.  She just needed to be fucked.

As the second withdrew, she climbed onto the bed again, this time facing the 
foot of the bed where a mirror faced her above the chest of drawers.  A large 
mirror.  She stood on her knees, seeing herself in a new light.  She was 
flushed, and… she needed to ride a cock.  She looked over and picked a #3, Mount 
Sturdy.  Veiny, erect, thicker than…  She looked into his eyes.  “Under me, head 
up here."  He understood.  She rarely did this backwards, but his head would 
only interfere with her view.

As she straddled him and descended on his cock, she straightened once again to 
watch in the mirror.  No view.  She needed a view.

She climbed from her knees onto her feet, squatting above him.  Then down.  Yes.  
She could see his cock as she impaled herself on it.  The balance was tricky on 
the mattress, and she stretched her arms out for the guys to help hold her in 
place.  It was then that she noticed the men holding small video cameras.  She 
didn’t want to think about that.  The man’s cock felt so good within her, and 
all she could say to the cameras was “You haven’t gotten all of me yet.”  

The one built like Steven she nodded at.  You, in front of me.  I want you to 
get a picture of… this...”  She raised, her legs straining, some fatigue 
beginning to set in.  “Got it?  Film me fucking this cock.”   Ooooooo she was 
evil.  She knew it.  But surely he was loving this as much as she was.  

She resumed fucking the man, slowly at first, then faster.  One of Steven’s 
hands was stroking his own cock…  She watched, wondering how raw he might rub 
himself, and he probably knew he would last, too.  Then she looked up, meeting 
his eyes momentarily before he once again looked down, watching her cunt meet 
Mount Sturdy.  “This cock feels so… gooo-ooo-ood,” the last of which she 
inflected with three long evil syllables.

Her legs were tired, so she quickened the pace, knowing her victim had little 
chance to withstand her.  Shortly, she heard groans behind her, and she rested 
on top of him, slowly grinding the hardness he had left.

She pointed at one of her helpers.  That man… hmm.   Certainly the right size, 
in height and, perhaps, feel, she thought, as she looked at his cock.  Craig?  
She laid back onto the bed, and he tentatively nibbled her nipples before 
climbing forward and entering her cunt.  There was no teasing; she was too wet 
for him not to fall in.  But he was large, yes, familiarly large, perhaps?  

He kissed her, his tongue darting teasingly.  She didn’t mind kissing, and, in 
fact, she was quite enjoying it, but it caused her the only feeling of 
“cheating” she had significantly felt since the evening had begun.  This man was 
taking the “making love” approach.  He wasn’t there simply to fuck her, and it 
felt, for a brief moment, the wrong place for that.  But then, he was a really 
good kisser, and his rhythm certainly kept her motor running.  He didn’t hurry, 
and she didn’t need him to, or want him to.  He wasn’t teasing her, and he 
wasn’t fucking her silly.  He was a serious lover.

She backed away slightly from his kisses, meeting his eyes.  She whispered into 
his ear. “Cum.”  He thrust again.  “Cum.”  The same again.  “I’m there.  Fill 
me.”  And he came, shuddering with grunts, continuing to stroke into her through 
his own tremors.  She actually missed the warmth inside her that would normally 
follow, but there was no need for her to fake it.  She came too, and whether it 
was a moan or a cry that escaped her lips, she only knew that it was loud and 
authentic.  It felt goo-ooo-ood.  Thank you, #4.

He rolled away, and she took a few moments to catch her breath.  The next in 
line began gently fondling her breasts, which suited her fine as she caught her 
breath.   It didn’t take long, with a stranger fondling her breasts sporting a 
nice cock with a large head.  Yep, she was ready for another.  “How do you want 
me?”

She thought for a moment that she might actually trick one of them into saying 
something, but this one remained silent also, and rolled her over onto her 
knees.  She wondered if they spoke if she would recognize their voices.  That 
was terrifying and electrifying at the same time.   Hurry up!  She expected to 
feel him at her opening at any second, but she didn’t feel anything.  Finally, 
she propped herself up on her elbows so that she could turn around.  The men 
were filming her.  She had forgotten about the cameras.  

She wasn’t sore just yet, but she decided she could make the most of an extended 
interlude.  She turned to face them as they continued with the video cameras.  
“Flip,” she read on one.  Small, silent.  And recording her from multiple 
angles.  Once again, it was her show.

“Four, down.  Two to go.  Yes, I want more.”  She began cupping her breasts, 
then rolling her nipples.  “And there’s so much more of me to enjoy.  You do 
want to suck on my breasts, don’t you?”  She looked around.  They seemed 
uncertain if it was an invitation.  “Later.  But first, I’m going to need more 
cock.  And let me show you where.”

She resumed her position on her knees, this time spreading her legs as wide as 
she could, exposing what, at this point, she knew must be swollen cunt lips and 
gaping clitoris.  She reached back with one hand to give them a show, feeling 
for herself how open she really was.  And how wet.  And how sensitive.  She 
inserted her middle finger and hooked it slightly, pulling it.  “I need #5… 
here.”  

This time, it didn’t take long. And, it didn’t take him long either.  It was 
only, perhaps, 15 strokes when she heard him groan, but she felt next to 
nothing.  Her cunt was stretched, indeed.  And condoms ruined some of the fun.

Besides that, she was hot.  Temperature hot.  She stepped off the bed, and 
looked at… #6, the sneak.  His cock was red and as swollen as she had ever seen 
it.  She stood before him and grabbed his cock in her fist, squeezing tightly.  
It was strange, but, yes, the veins felt in the right places.  And the mouth 
looked like his mouth.  And the height was his height.  Just to make sure!

She crouched down, facing his cock, giving it a tease.  She took the condom from 
his hand and tossed it aside.  She was sure.  

She walked to the window, and pressed herself against it.  The coolness of the 
glass chilled her at first, but it was welcomed nonetheless.  She spread her 
legs and backed up slightly.  It was slightly awkward, but it was a position she 
knew he could handle.  She felt his hands reach around to cup her breasts, then 
press her nipples gently, then harder.  A couple men were at her side, with the 
cameras.  A distraction, but one she would soon be distracted from.  

“Alright, you may be last, but I’ve got plenty left.  I don’t know how many 
people might be watching in that condo across the street, but it’s up to you to 
show them I’m having the fuck of my life.”

Steven’s hands squeezed her nipples harder, then worked their way down to her 
hips.  She lowered a hand to help guide him in, even though it probably wasn’t 
necessary.  He filled her quickly, and she regretted the lack of friction left 
within her.  She backed up slightly to help his angle, then began meeting his 
thrusts.  She was aware of one of the guys approaching closer, then lying on the 
floor beneath her, filming upwards.  Whatever.  Without the condom, she could 
feel Steven’s cock, and the heat from it.

She stared into the darkness of the night, wondering how many of the dark units 
were actually occupied, watching her.  She knew they were there.  It caused her 
some pleasure, not only fucking 6 men, but fucking with the minds of whoever 
watched.  Steven kept a good rhythm, then increased it even more, holding it 
steady.  The familiar feelings began stirring, and she closed her eyes, 
concentrating on coupling with her husband, meeting his needs.  And he finally 
found them met, his thrusts almost lifting her off her feet.  The hot warmth of 
his cum within her was a welcome feeling… sex feeling like sex.



Later, it was the videos that would fuel their lovemaking, or, when she had the 
need, replace her imagination when she needed a quick afternoon fix when Steven 
was gone.  Two of the men had left “early,” leaving her with four the remainder 
of the evening.  And morning.  As the videos had recorded, there had been no 
sleep that night, and she had taken the men in every way imaginable.  And in 
every way pleasurable.  It was hard work satisfying four men at once, but…  
she managed.  

By the time everyone was done, the finale was, in her mind, humorous.  The men 
still hadn’t talked, or even said “thank you.”  But she had knelt with the four 
of them around her, making a show of sucking their cocks, which were limp and 
worn out, just as much as she.  Steven had walked up to her while she was 
sucking a limp cock, saying goodbye in her way, when he poured a condom full of 
cum on the cock she was sucking.  She had been obligated to clean it.  After 
that, it was a mad dash, as apparently all the used condoms were found and 
either emptied on cocks or otherwise onto her. In the video, it looked kind of 
gross in retrospect, but… it was fun.  

Steven had left with the others, remaining masked to the end.  He continued 
videotaping her with her cum coated mouth, kneeling in the floor, as he had shut 
the door.  

She trusted the videos weren’t “out there” for the public to see, but she 
trusted Steven.  It had taken him much of the following day editing at his 
computer to make her keepsake.  All together, it was amazing.



The following week, she met Samantha for lunch at her favorite sandwich shop.  
Samantha ordered first, then pointed towards a large salami in the deli case.  
“Hey, you know you want it,” and winked at Hayley.  The girl behind the counter 
blushed slightly, but Hayley gave no indication to Samantha that she “caught 
on.”  There was too much fun to be had.  

The lunch was rather quiet, as Samantha kept asking the obvious, such as 
“Anything special over the weekend?”  
“What did you do?”  
“You’re not masking something, are you?”  
“Any good fantasies you have to share?”
“Hey, did you cheat on your husband this weekend?”
“Any Milf magic?”

Hayley wasn’t that easy.  Finally, after their food was eaten and their cups 
emptied, Samantha stated in a low, firm tone, “Alright, dammit.  Tell me about 
it.”

Hayley grinned.  “Well, let me think.”  She set her fingers to her chin and 
looked off, feigned a “deep thought” look, then suffered a kick in the chin from 
Samantha.  “Okay, okay.  Thank you for the flowers.”

Samantha gave her a dumb stare.

“You were right about what you said in your note, and… Steven said he recently 
got in touch with Craig, who would like to come visit in a couple weeks.”  That 
made Samantha sit up straight, whether surprised or with other thought, Hayley 
couldn’t tell.

Samantha gave Hayley a serious look, before twisting her straw around in her 
class.  “Gosh, girlfriend, I think you skipped a bit.”   Samantha sucked 
whatever diluted Diet Coke was left in her cup into her straw, and blew it out 
on Hayley’s face.  “Girl, you’ve gotta have more for me than that!”




Comments and suggestions desired!
E-mail to:  OneIdleHand@hotmail.com

See my other stories at www.asstr.org/~IdleHand 
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