Stay At Home Mom
Written by Titslave / Oct 5, 2000
Stay at Home Mom - Part One by Titslave
Mrs. Liz Cameron and her family had lived in this upper middle class Indianapolis suburb for just six weeks. They were comfortably situated on Pine Meadow Avenue in a four bedroom tudor, and it was her domain all day long. It was a nice, upper middle class home among other nice, upper middle class homes. When her husband's company consolidated its corporate functions in Indianapolis he had been transferred from the East Coast to Indiana to head up the company's information services function. Dale was travelling only three days a week on the average, instead of the constant out of town travel when they were in Baltimore, but she was still anxious.
They had agreed when they married eight years ago that as soon as she became pregnant she would stop working indefinitely. So they adopted the traditional roles of husband works and wife stays home and raises the children and runs the house. Being at home and raising the kids was surprisingly hard work to Lizzy, and yet now that the girls were in first grade their absence during much of the day aggravated Lizzy's anxiety. She was biting her nails. She even considered smoking.
Back East she had thought she stored away forever some deep, dirty needs. Every day since they pulled at her, but she had kept clear of the wickedness that had overcome her one summer. The move here had aggravated these impluses, with just her at home during most of the day.....she knew nobody here and was restless, bored, and lonely. And the drumbeat from that promiscuous chapter in her life was growing louder.
Dale and his charming wife had met in high school, where she had excelled in theater and other performance arts. Her passion for performance caught Dale's eye, when he wasn't practically living in the computer room or competing in the chess club. She was the best dancer in high school, and throughout college loved to do things that got her out in front of people. She loved to use her well-endowed body. When the college she attended while Dale was studying elsewhere put on a revivial of "Gypsy", she was the natural choice. A sophomore, she did the strip scene passionately on the first night and word spread rapidly around the campus. The rest of the performances sold out. Seats were filled with frat guys and jocks who normally would never set foot in a theater. On stage she felt their energy and their lusty appreciation, and she discovered how much she liked that kind of attention. On the last night of the show she went too far in the "Let me entertain you" number and reve her bare, and very abundant, chest to the audience. The director was furious and she was thrown out of the theater department at first, then reinstated.
Liz had never spent a weekend night alone in college; she was too attractive and loved to party. After "Gypsy" she had discovered that she had an insatiable appetite for showing off her body. She had four years of non-stop partying, dating dozens of guys. Dale knew little of this side of her undergraduate life. She was invited to frat parties for two reasons: she was the most stacked co-ed in the school by far and she loved to dress provocatively. Sexist and suggestive comments never offended her; indeed, at many of these parties she loved to pose in a tank or tube top while hanging out among a dozen men and then show her breasts to them at some point in the evening. She wound up with at least one jock each night and had sex until she practically passed out. She was young and sexy and loose.
But now, Mrs. Cameron celebrated her 35th birthday with misgivings; she was convinced she was old. She reminisced about her college days and just shook her head. Dale, when he was home, did little to help the situation when she made comments about how old she looked. "We all age," he said as he sat at the computer, sending e mails to people at work.
In fact, Liz was aging very little. Although now the mother of six year old twin girls, Dale's wife looked almost like she did in college. Her pretty face showed no wrinkles. Her shoulder length blonde hair was full of body and curls, and her legs were smooth and curvaceous - a dancer's legs. Her tummy was showing a slight expansion from the birth of the twins. Her round and firm breasts, quite large to begin with, had swollen with nursing the twins to a point where they bulged forward and to the sides of her otherwise thin frame. They had never fully returned to their comparatively smaller (or less large) size, and buying bras had become a challenge - specialty sources on the Internet were her only sources. Her boobs were so big that braless they pressed sideways against her arms and reached her navel; when she sat and leaned forward they pressed against her thighs and rested on them. They were still beautifully formed, full and with sizeable nipples that pointed proudly ard when erect. Her breasts gave her back aches.
And they were, to many men, incredibly attractive.
Lately Dale was sexually distant. "I guess I am uncomfortable with how large your chest is," he even said a couple weeks ago when she asked one night why he seemed less interested than she did in lovemaking. This disturbed her since he had been a slave to her boobs as of their first date. He always had glued his mouth to them when they fornicated.
Compounding the problem, about a week after his confession that he was "uncomfortable" with her large breasts, he made a remark about her "udders". This happened when she wanted to tell him something about what the twins had said in first grade, and uncharacteristically began stuttering about it.
Looking down at her chest Dale said: "Maybe you stutter because of your heavy udders. They're pulling on your throat. You have an udder stutter." He began giggling over his lame joke. And that same week, when she had suggested that they hang a rope swing for the twins to play with in the back yard, Dale chuckled: "Let's hang one of your bras. Then the girls could swing at the same time, maybe I could fit."
While she was smarting from Dale's indifference and annoying humor, she increasingly noticed the opposite reaction from other males. She had always gotten plenty of stares but for four years she had wanted to just appreciate it at a distance. Her reaction to stares at her chest filled her with apprehension, because she wanted to behave herself. She was resisting the heat this attention gave her.
It had been four years. She had fought hard to be a respectable mom and wife and wanted to avoid impulses that had driven her wild - once.
It was back in Baltimore. She had the twins, then two years old, in a large stroller for two and was pushing it down the sidewalk on her street. The July sun was hot, and she had on khaki shorts and a tank top. Every day for a couple weeks she had passed a group of guys, half of whom were college age or younger, who were working on a new house being built right next door. On this one afternoon they had their shirts off and were sitting or standing around a truck that was blocking her way.
She had noticed when she walked by them how friendly they became each time she appeared. This time they were smiling and looking her way almost immediately after she came out the driveway of her house.
She had found herself looking for them when she took her kids out for a stroll. She was bored, wondering what she was doing in a marriage with two children. She felt, that day, very trapped. One of the younger guys, a tall, muscular, blonde college-age kid with a deep tan, said with a smile as she approached them: "Hello again! The lady with the twin bundles of joy!" Lizzy smiled: "That's me!" She stopped and looked at him. He walked up to the carriage and glanced quickly at Meredith and Gina, asleep. "You've got two amazing works of art there," he smiled, his eyes returning to hers, then falling to her chest. The others came over and gathered around her and her girls. The blonde young man looked at the others and said: "We really love to see you walk by with your prized possessions." The others made affirmative remarks, "Definitely" or "yes sir."
"Sorry to block a beautiful lady like you with the truck," a stocky guy said. He backed the vehicle out; as he was doing it Liz got the feeling the attention to her girls was an excuse for something less paternal, and maybe it was a gimmick for all of these guys to look her over. The blonde guy said, as she got a warm feeling of being the center of attention , "we just love you and those two. They're --- incredible."
There was a smirking and funny feeling about the comments that almost made Liz say something, and it occurred to her that the comments were directed to her chest, which was huge looking in her tank top, and not her children. So she stopped and for some reason Liz said, as she took out her lipstick and began making up her lips, "so you gentlemen really like my pair, huh?" The blonde guy grinned: "Oh God yeah." Then after a weird moment of silence, as they watched her apply the almost reddish-purple lipstick, she coughed to clear her throat and smiled: "do you guys also like my daughters?" pointing down at her children.
She looked up at the guys, and raised her eyebrows. She found the nerve to stare them down. For a moment the guys were expressionless, then the blonde guy said quietly, a smile forming on his face: "Yeah. We like 'em. We like your daughters, but we really like your packed in tank top. Right dudes?" He looked at the others and they all chimed in. "Your daughters must have been VERY well fed," the blonde guy said, getting more bold. Lizzy amazed herself and smiled, then looked down at her chest and said: "Yeah, they got some great meals out of me." Hungry male eyes were on her body. "Were you big in the chest before you had 'em?" asked the stocky, bald guy who had moved the truck. He was smiling and openly staring at her boobs. This was wicked, talking about her breasts like this. "When I turned 17, I went to a 40D, and by the time I had them I was about a 44 DD," she said. A few of the guys whistled. "Shit," one of them said, "I've been dating this chick in my class at t gh school, and she's 18, and you at 17 would have put her to shame. You must have been a popular lady in high school and college." "Yeah, very much so," Lizzy said, bathing in the spotlight and feeling like she was back at school showing off. "You're totally popular now, with us," an older guy said, with tatoos on him. Most of the time he just stared at her, unsmiling. The blonde boy-man kept it up: "Looks like your nipples got a workout with your daughters. We can tell. They couldn't stay away from those extra big tits, could they?" The bald guy said: "OK, dude, keep it clean." There was laughter. And they looked at her for a reaction.
She stared at the blonde guy and slowly perched her hands into her sides so that her thumbs pressed into her lower back and her shoulders pushed behind her. "No, they couldn't stay away from 'em." Then, her voice quaking with tension, she mumbled: "Could you?" The blonde guy said: "What was that?" The bald guy yelled, grinning: "She said 'could you'? All right!" He pushed the blonde guy playfully against a bobcat parked in the front of the construction area. Lizzy felt the undercurrent of an approaching wave of excitement and nervousness and impulsively retreated, barging down the sidewalk and up her driveway. "Bye!" she yelled, and they looked at her with revved motors under their belts.
The blonde guy called: "Need a hand with those two bundles of joy?" She smiled as she opened her front door. "No thanks!" As she turned and took each of her daughters inside she heard some suggestive laughter. As she put the girls down for a nap she found that she had gotten a thrill from this that she couldn't handle. She was standing close to a fire and had this lunatic urge to jump in.
During the nap she found herself watching the youngsters next door through her bedroom window. She could hear them. "Yeah, school has got me crazy," one said. "Well," the blonde kid said as they stood around having a break within earshot of her window, "if you're stressed out about it why not go see that chick next door and suck on her bigass tits." They all laughed. "Great idea!" the first one said, his mouth forming a wide smile, "Is she stacked or what!" Someone else chuckled: "Her body gets me so hard. What a fuck she must be...." The blonde kid said: "She kind of came on to us today, getting out the lipstick and going along with what we said about those watermelon tits." "She didn't mind that, either. Do you think she wants to fuck?" the stressed out student wondered, in a serious tone, pointing down at his crotch and snapping his fingers. "She ought to lose the tank top and walk her kids in a bikini," the blonde said. "I cunt hear you," one of the others smile sturing toward Lizzy's house with his head. The blonde kid looked almost right at Lizzy's bedroom window and cupped his hands, aimed them at her house and said: "Wear a bikini! We want to see more of your boobs!" Two others tackled him and wrestled him to the ground, covering his mouth.
She should have been offended. But hearing this talk made Lizzy's heart race. After about five more minutes of staring out at them and listening to their banter about sports and getting "wasted", she, with shaking hands, looked through a drawer in her dresser and pulled out two bikini tops. One was white and fairly conservative, although meant for the beach. The second was obviously designed for sunbathing and not the street. Bright red, this much more revealing garment consisted of strings connected to triangles that covered the third of each breast in the vicinity of her substantial nipples. After handling them for a moment she put them both back in the drawer and looked in the mirror. "I must be losing it," she said, thinking twice about her impulse to put one of them on, "I need to see a therapist." She left her bedroom and read a book until the twins awoke.
That night, laying in a bed where again, nothing happened with her husband, Liz could not sleep. The moon lit up the half-built home next door and laying on her side she pulled back her window shade an inch or two and stared longingly out at the night. She imagined the guys still there, and she imagined herself getting on her bikini and flirting with them right outside her bedroom window. Or walking around her back yard in nothing but high heels. After tossing for another half hour she fell asleep.
The next day she couldn't wait for her husband to leave. She was feeling driven, edgy. She had to get out and do something to let off a dizzying tension she felt. It was in the high 80s by ten and the muggy air was as thick as dog's breath. She was torn between a play date with a friend across town, who had one daughter also two - or to get out of the heat and cool off somewhere. She decided this was the day to take her daughters to the wading pool at the public park two blocks from them. She dressed them in their swim suits and then put on a one-piece, and grabbed a beach robe to wear over it. At the last minute, though, with her daughters getting antsy to go to the pool, she convinced herself the suit was too old looking and grabbed the red bikini she had never really forgotten about. In front of her mirror she took her time changing into it, thinking up something flirtatious to try out on the boys next door. She tied the top behind her real tight. She put on the robe the way she wanted to, to show some cleavage, and loaded her girls in the stroller. She called Dale at work and when she got his voice mail told him to call her in the cell phone, which she put in the stroller. She wanted him to stop at a discount wine store on the way back from work.
No sooner had she pushed the stroller out of her driveway and onto the sidewalk then the young guys working on the house reacted. "Uh, check it out," the blonde kid attempted to whisper discreetly. She heard another voice say conspiratorially: "She's baaaack." They were working in the new house and she could have kept on walking. But instinctively she stopped and smiled, then waved and yelled: "Hello there." She wanted them to come out and surround her. She wanted that rush of being ogled.
The guys looked very appreciatively over at her, and the blonde guy and the student, a shorter, powerfully built nineteen-ish kid, walked out to greet her. She had closed and tied the robe over her bikini so that only the top of her deep cleavage showed. Now she was not rehearsing something to say and do to excite them. It was happening. It as show time. She had taken the trouble to tie the bikini straps on tight in back so that the triangular fabric squeezed her breast flesh, making it push out. She wanted to make her flirting, and the look of her body in the bikini, as sexually arousing as she could. She was nervous, even shaking.
"So where are you headed?" the blonde guy asked cheerfully. Two other guys walked over to join him and the dark haired youngster. "I think with this heat I have to get my bundles of joy in the water," she smiled, her mouth dry. She looked down at her daughters, fanned herself with her hand, and said: "I don't know why I put this robe on. I'm boiling." "Yeah, it's a scorcher today," the darker guy said. She took his hand and said: 'feel it." She rubbed his hand along her shoulder and down slightly onto her chest. "These robes are really hot," she said, rubbing his hand along the material, just like she had rehearsed this encounter in her mind.
"So is there a pool around here?" the blonde guy asked. "Two blocks down," Lizzy said, and then she nonchalantly opened her robe and ever so slowly pulled it off her shoulders, and closed her eyes. "Better," she sighed, then opened her eyes. She took the robe off her body and lay it across the stroller frame. "But I may just set up the kiddie pool in the back yard and fill it with the garden hose. The girls love it." She ran her hands through her hair, cocked her shoulders back, and with studied casualness looked down the street, wanting her profile to drive them crazy as they stood to her right. "God it feels good to get that robe off my skin," she said softly. She looked down at her tits and studied the effect of her top tied so tight that the titflesh spilled out around the material.
Her youthful admirers stared open mouthed at her boobs. Two thirds of the proud, thrusting titflesh was bare, right there in front of them. The size of her tits drove them crazy. Her chest was beyond anything they had ever seen. Her body was out of a dream. The effect was rude, hard to believe, scary, and instantly arousing. And to these young guys it was a stunning invitation. This housewife loved to show off her body with men - and she really was up to something more.
She looked at the guys and laughed softly as they stole stares, then simply ogled openly, the sight of her body in the red bikini. "Helloooo," she smiled, "I'm up here." She gently reached up to the blonde guy's chin and moved it up slightly. "Haven't you ever seen a bikini before?" "Wow," someone said. She turned to face them. "Which is better, this or the tank top from yesterday?" She was hearing herself say flirtatious things, and it was something she just had to do. Something drove her, pushed her to get these guys completely aroused. "Oh, this, this definitely," the blonde guy said. Usual bold, he was in a trance. After a beat she asked with a big smile, "should I wear this more often?" Everyone laughed as he stumbled over his words. "I guess so," she laughed.
She made the robe fall on to the ground and the dark haired guy and Lizzy bent over simultaneously to pick it up. The others stared intently at her weighty breasts hanging from her body as she took her time getting back up. The titflesh outside the bikini top spilled even more daringly when she had leaned down. "Thank you sir," she said in a seductive tone. She looked at their admiring faces and laughed. "So you guys like it when I bend over like that?" she chuckled.
She announced that she was going to set up the kiddie pool in the backyard. "Do you guys want to join us?" she asked in a loud, stiff voice, her heart pounding as she said the words, and her eyes reluctant to look at them directly when she said them.
They looked at each other and grunted approvingly among themselves and the blonde guy spoke suggestively now: "Yeah, great. How soon? We're about done here." Lizzy said: "Well come on over then." She looked down at her daughters: "These handsome men are going to join us in the back yard. Let's set up the kiddie pool." The blonde kid smiled: "We'll be over there to play with this incredible pair you have." "You promise?" Lizzy cooed, stretching and yawning. She began to explain that she hadn't slept well the night before because she was so restless, when the cell phone interrupted her.
"Hello?" she said. It was Dale, who was sitting in his office, and who, for the first time in weeks, had actually called her back within a reasonable time of her call to him.
"Hi honey," he said. He was looking at her picture on his desk when he said: "You know, I haven't been very attentive to you lately, and I have to work on that." As she listened, then spoke, she kept her eyes on the dark haired kid, her stare intense. "Well I love attention," Lizzy said. "So where are you?" Dale asked. Lizzy's eyes fell to the sidewalk. "I took the kids for a walk and decided because of the heat to get out the kiddie pool in back. I changed into a bikini. Right now we're in the back yard...." Her eyes darted over to the student's face. She stared at him.
"Are you dying from this humidity?" her husband asked. Liz hesitated, then said softly: "I feel like taking my clothes off and running through the hose." She stood closer to the dark haired guy. "Why don't you stay in and enjoy the air conditioning?" Dale inquired. She murmured: "Yeah, maybe I'll take off my clothes indoors and give the neighbors a thrill." Something about the way she said that gave her husband a slight sense of apprehension. Then Lizzy raised her voice slightly and said complainingly. "Can I just share something with you, honey? When I take the girls out I am getting a lot of lustful stares from the guys working on the house next door." She said it with a trace of annoyance in her voice. Her eyes now gazing at the blonde youngster, she said to her husband: "All those young guys think about is getting a piece of ass. You should see the way they stared at my boobs when I walked by just now." "Well, sweetheart, don't give it a second thought," Dale said. guys regarded each other with eyebrows raised.
She took it a step further with her husband. She said into the phone, almost winking at the blonde guy: "Yesterday they were VERY friendly when I wore a tank top. Today they practically picked me up and ravaged me sexually inside the new house." "Well, ignore them," Dale said. She laughed: "Oh I am not even saying 'hello' to them. And I put a robe on over my bikini so they can't slobber all over my tits." Dale was struck by her coarse language. "You're making me horny," he laughed, caught off guard. "Why, 'cause you want them to see my tits?" she asked, smiling at the young admirers surrounding her. Dale got more apprehensive, and stuttered: "No, I don't." Lizzy smiled and cooed: "Well, let's fuck like crazy tonight," she said, "I really need it. I really need a stiff prick." He didn't know what to make of this. "OK," he said. She stretched and yawned.
He started to say something when Liz said quickly: "Honey, let me call you back." She ended the call and said to the guys after a moment, a big smile on her face: "So you guys coming?" They just stood and smiled and nodded, then the blonde kid said: "You're right. All we think about is getting a piece of ass." She looked into his eyes, her own wide and concentrating. She was racing inside with an arousal that was new to her. Talking the way she did on the phone to Dale in front of these guys was like cocaine. It was so evil, and it concentrated every muscle and nerve in her being toward some as yet unknown experience, a thrill she was to discover.
She had to back up the stroller and beat a retreat to her yard. Suddenly she was afraid of her own excitement and sensed that their mood was subtly shifting. They were quieter, less chatty, and staring at her. "So, if you want to come by, we'll be in back," she said, waving. She stepped into her yard and took the girls out of the stroller and walked briskly to the back. Liz's heart was pounding.
Nervously she went to turn on the hose and shepherded her girls to the large turtle shaped baby wading pool in the middle of the soft green grass. The girls giggled as Liz squirted the hose's cool water on their toes. "Doesn't that feel nice?" she asked them. As she filled the turtle she looked over her shoulder, around to the right corner of her house, more and more apprehensive about what was to come. Part of her couldn't wait for the young smiling masculine faces to appear; part of her shivered at the thought. What was she doing? She was still stimulated from that naughty phone call with her husband. It was hard to fathom: actually talking like that to him while the guys stared at her, salivating. One Liz was burning with impulses, another Liz was fighting them tooth and nail.
Then, she turned to look behind her for the nineteenth time and there was no one approaching the back yard. Where were they? It had been twenty minutes. She was sort of relieved.
But her girls turned and said: "Mommy!" They were pointing behind her, not at the corner of the house by the driveway. Were they here? Indeed, they were already standing within a few feet of her, having snuck onto the lawn. The blonde guy, the brunette student, and three others: a bald, chunky kid with a Metallica T-shirt, an older guy with shades and tattoos, and a chain-smoking college-age kid with a goatee and tight shorts.
"Boo!", the goateed kid yelled. She turned and jumped, startled twice over because of her nervousness. She screamed. "Is that a scream of anticipation?" the blonde guy laughed. There were now five guys surrounding the little green turtle pool. "We stopped for some cold beer and got here as fast as we could," the dark kid said, toting six packs, "happy we came?" Liz found her voice and said: "Glad you could join us."
She stood up and noticed five pairs of eyes on her tits. The bald guy put his arm around her and said to the group: "Those fuckin' things are as big as watermelons." "Is that any way to refer to my breasts?" she laughed. The blonde guy said commandingly: "A few of us have to use the bathroom." The dark guy and the bald kid, almost on a script, said the same thing. "What, so you guys can jack off?" the bald guy said, now standing so close to her they were touching, his eyes looking down at her body. With no spontaneity, as if scripted, the goatee guy said that he and the older man in the shades would be happy to watch her daughters. It sounded odd, as if she were going somewhere. She looked at the one guy, his brawny arms were heavily decorated with tattooed biker symbols. He said it again: "we would be happy to watch your daughters." "Then it will be our turn to drain our snakes," he said, giving an almost hostile glance to the blonde kid. The blonde kid chuckled: "I ca it in the car, dude. You'll get your turn."
Those words startled her and the mechanism of resistance to losing control took over inside Liz. "Do you guys have experience watching toddlers?" she inquired. "I have two little sisters I have babysat for since they were first walking," he said curtly. "I love kids," the tattooed guy said, smiling. He handed her a stout bottle of malt liquor with a thick neck. "Well," she said in a curious, higher pitched voice, "what kind of beer is this?" "The kind that makes you feel good," he said, "and you've got the mouth for it.". As she was about to take a swig she said: "Am I the only drinker in the group?" The blonde guy peeled off his shirt, displaying an admirable set of muscles and shoulders that wouldn't quit. "First we gotta drain our snakes," he said. She tried to keep her eyes off his awesome body. He and the other two began walking toward the patio door. "Lead the way," the dark kid said. They grabbed beers to take with them.
The drink felt good - stronger than beer she was used to - so she took another, heftier gulp of the malt liquor as she slid open the door, the strong wall of AC air meeting her as she said: "Follow me." "With pleasure," the blonde guy said. Then he said: "I can't wait to get my snake out and take care of business." They followed her through the family room to the powder room in the hall of the first floor. As the guys stared with a galloping desire at her ass swaying with her walk, the blonde guy turned to the other two and smiled, and gestured toward her with an extended middle finger. "Sorry about the mess in here," she said, her fingers feeling a rapidly warming blush on her face.
Then she turned and glanced back through where they had walked to check on her girls, and took another big gulp from her bottle. She stood in the john doorway and pointed into it: "Who's first to drain his snake?"
The blonde guy stepped into the bathroom, squeezing by her and staring down at her tits as he did, and the two others blocked her from stepping out of the doorway where she stood. The blonde kid faced the toilet, which sat to the right of the door. She was slow to move away and without thinking stayed put, glowing with the attention - that three young, flirtatious guys were mesmerized by her big tits.
Rather than pulling his fly open the blonde guy rubbed his crotch for a second, as he looked at her boobs, then with surprising speed undid his trousers and fly and pulled his pants and underwear down to this thighs. Liz breathed in with shock and stared hypnotically at a large, thick, fully erect penis. "My God!" she said. She moved her eyes away but could not avoid the reflection of his oversized cock in the bathroom mirror. Instinctively her eyes locked on his dick but slowly, half heartedly she attempted to get out of the doorway. The dark guy pressed forward, his now shirtless body against hers, and said to his companion: "Hey dude, hurry up and piss." "I think you need privacy," she said to the blonde guy, her voice trembling. This was getting too serious for her.
The blonde guy began stroking his cock, and she was overwhelmed with sexual fascination. Dale's member was nowhere near that size!
"Actually, it was a false alarm," the blonde kid said, lazily stuffing his dick into his jockey shorts and pulling up his trousers. The bald kid grabbed her arm, firmly but gently, and said, his face almost touching hers: "You got a nice place here." As he said that the blonde guy and the dark guy switched places, and the blonde guy took her bottle and said: "Have some more beer, and cool off your big tits." She just looked at him, and he said: "Open that sexy mouth, come on." She opened it slightly, and the bald guy chuckled: "Open it wider, like you want to take that whole bottle." She complied, and stared into the blonde guy's eyes as she chugged about a third of the bottle.
Then the student, after rubbing his crotch, looked at Liz in the eye and asked: "Want to see what your tits do to me?" "You know she does," the bald guy said, who looked down at her with a laugh and said: "Don't you?" His hand moved to her back, and she was amazed at how good it felt caressing her shoulder blades. "Show her how happy you are to see her," the blonde guy said eagerly. The dark kid pulled his shorts and boxers down to his knees and he faced Liz. His hard, long and slender dick sprung out, erect, and moist on its head. He bent his knees and thrust his groin toward her. He shook his genitals, his hairy balls jiggling. One hand pulled it to his stomach and let it spring down to its flagpole position. He did this twice more. The base of his cock projected rudely from a forest of thick black pubic hair. Her chest began to hammer.
Resistance kicked in again. Liz pushed the blonde kid out of the way and said medodically: "I'm not going to watch this." As she moved past him the blonde kid pulled roughly on her bikini top, which was tied around her neck and in the center of her back. His hand pulled on the top strap. Instead of cursing him Liz heard herself laughing nervously, and said: "Oh, you're bad!" They followed her into the family room, and when the blonde guy collapsed into a chair near the couch, the other two sat down in the couch. "Why don't you take off that top while you call your husband?" the bald guy said. "Yeah," the student said, "get him on the phone and show us your ass, too."
"I don't think so," she laughed. "I think you should go," she added, but they noticed how lame her voice sounded. "You should take it off," the blonde guy said, and Liz had a few more sips of malt liquor as she stood in the center of the room, and they sat, with bulges in their pants she could not stop noticing. Then, the student scooted up onto the arm of the couch and took out his cock. He began to stroke its eight hard inches, and said: "God you have big tits. They're fucking incredible." He then pulled out his hairy nuts so that they hung over his zipper. Then, one at a time, the other two unzipped themselves and began jacking off. "Get him on the phone and blow us," the blonde guy said, "you've been wanting to do it since you picked out that bikini, you dick hungry whore." He turned to his buddies. "Did you see that horney look in her eyes when she got him on the phone? Fuckin' nympho eyes, man."
The words hit her like a ton of bricks. She felt herself slipping, but wanted to maintain a hold on her respectability. "Nice way to talk to a lady," she muttered.
She turned her back to them and looked out at the back yard. Her kids were playing a game with water toys and appeared to be in good hands. One of the guys paid attention to them but the other stared impatiently back at her.
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