The sun cooked Beau’s broad shoulders as he pushed the lawnmower across the yard. Clad in cargo shorts and sneakers, Beau tramped through the grass, sweat sliding down his back. His shorts hung low, revealing the very top of his meaty ass. He stopped, wiping his brow. Beau surveyed his surroundings. At his mother’s insistence, the 18-year-old was spending the summer at his aunt’s country house to keep out of trouble.

His aunt had devised a number of tasks in order to keep the boy busy and keep his behavior problems in check. His task today was to mow the lawn. What would have been a twenty-minute task at his mother’s house in the suburbs was a day-long affair on his aunt’s sprawling property. He had already been at the task an hour and a half and wasn’t even halfway finished. Beau put his hands on his hips and looked out at the vast lawn. His buff form was bronzed from all the time he had spent in the sun in the week since arriving at his aunt’s. Not only were his chores largely outdoors, he showered at least once daily using his aunt’s only shower, located in the backyard.

His initial hesitation at being completely exposed outdoors had been tempered by the scorching temperatures and the relative solitude. At this point he thought nothing of his mother’s sister-in-law seeing him naked, and the only other person to cross his path as he bathed had been the gruff, towering man who apparently lived down the road. Beau still thought of how the man had commanded him with practically no effort. The mark the man’s strong hand left on Beau’s bare ass had remained for a day. Thinking of it, Beau absent-mindedly rubbed his soft ass where the man had struck him. Beau was dripping with sweat to the point that his already-low-slung cargo shorts were a millimeter away from revealing the dark hair that surrounded his impressive cock.

“Fuck this,” he said, through labored breaths. He looked at his phone; 1 pm. No messages, of course; he got no service here. Beau wasn’t used to taking on his share of responsibility for the upkeep of a house. It was simple to him: if he didn’t want to do something, he didn’t. It was bad enough he had to spend his summer in the middle of nowhere; he wasn’t about to spend it getting heatstroke doing a bunch of stupid fucking chores. The lawnmower sputtered and stopped as Beau turned and walked across the front yard.

Rounding the corner to the back of the house, Beau kicked off his shoes. He turned the spigot of the outdoor shower, releasing a stream of cold water cascading onto the stone platform below. In one swift motion, Beau dropped his shorts and boxers and stepped atop the platform. He gasped as the cold water hit his neck and shoulders, falling down his toned body, his long, thick cock and his round, tight ass. His cock swung slightly as water droplets landed on it. He hung his head under the stream, letting the water wash the sweat away.

After a minute, Beau shut off the water, grabbed his shorts, and walked naked back to the house. He showered outside so often now that he thought nothing of walking around the house and the yard without clothes, his cock hitting his muscular thighs as he walked. He could swear he occasionally caught his mother’s sister-in-law letting here eyes linger on his cock. He didn’t blame her. It wasn’t infrequent that a friend of his would comment on what they thought was a massive hard-on in Beau’s shorts. “I’m not hard,” he’d reply. “I just have a huge dong.”

In his bedroom, Beau picked out a T-shirt and his other pair of cargo shorts, thankfully clean. He checked for clean boxers and found none. Briefs it was. He pulled up a pair of white Hanes, which barely constrained his cock. He finished dressing, slipped on a pair of flip-flops, and headed out the door. In his brief time in the country, Beau had discovered a bar within what passed for walking distance in this town. An hour’s walk down the road and he could at least get drunk; they never carded in this place, and Beau looked older than he was anyway. He began his walk down the dirt road and lit a joint he had rolled using weed he bought last time he was at the bar. Living in the middle of nowhere had its occasional privileges.

It was dark when Beau sauntered up the gravel driveway of his aunt’s house. He swayed as he walked, too drunk to even attempt a straight line, a bent cigarette hanging out of the side of his mouth. He had fallen a few times on the walk back, and it was all he could do to keep upright now. His time at the bar had been relatively uneventful. He had pounded back beers and tequila shots with some locals, and unsuccessfully hit on the couple women who had ventured into the bar. Drunk off his ass, he hadn’t been particularly smooth. Beau spit out his cigarette and stumbled as he walked in the door, and laughed to himself.

“What on God’s green earth do you think you’re doing, young man?” His aunt’s voice caused Beau to clumsily swing around. She sat in the living room staring at him, fire in her eyes.

Beau tried to stand up straight, but the room kept spinning. “Err… uhhh… heyassssSarah.” His words slurred hopelessly. He leaned against the wall.

She stood up and walked toward him. “God dammit! Look at you! Not only did you not finish your chores, which landed me in a world of shit with the appraiser when he came by this afternoon, you’re drunk as a goddamn skunk. Here I promise your mother I’m going to keep you out of trouble this summer, and you’re getting shit-faced with… well, I don’t even know where the fuck you were.”

“Mmsorry,” mumbled Beau. He attempted to slide off his flip-flop and landed on his ass in the process.

“For god’s sake, get up here.” The woman lifted the boy to the best of his ability. “Damn, you’re heavy.” She guided the boy back to his room and spilled him onto the bed. His long legs and big feet hung off its edge. “You stay there and sober up. Don’t think we won’t talk about this tomorrow.”

Beau tried to respond, but instead threw his head back and passed out, the room still spinning.

“Whu-h?” Beau sat upright. “Augh…” He rubbed the back of his head, which was pounding. He looked down at himself. Still dressed in last night’s clothes, a single flip-flop hanging off his left toe. “The fuck…?”

He tried to remember the night prior. He could recall being at the bar, drinking beer and doing shots, maybe talking to some locals, although it was a blur. He vaguely remembered walking back along the dirt road and… oh, shit. The confrontation with his aunt. “Fuck.” He couldn’t remember exactly what had been said, just that she had been angry. Stumbling out of bed, he walked out of his room into the kitchen, wondering if she’d be there waiting for him.

It was empty. On the counter sat a note.


Beau put down the note. “Fuck.” He rubbed his forehead. At least she didn’t give me any chores, he thought. Padding about the kitchen, he fixed himself some food and coffee, and threw back a handful of aspirin for his aching head. Must’ve drank a fucking shit ton, he thought to himself. He knew he’d have to deal with his aunt eventually, but this was hardly the first time he had been in trouble. Her fault for making me do her bitch work, he thought.

Having taken some time to nurse his hangover, Beau walked back to his room. He lifted his shirt over and off his head and ran his hands over his smooth chest. Shower, he thought. He dropped his shorts and briefs, wrapped a too-small towel around his waist, and walked out the door to the backyard shower. He dropped the towel and started the water. Standing under it, he could feel his headache subsiding. Another few minutes of this, he thought, and he may be able to bear the harsh glare of the sun in his eyes. He groaned slightly, looking forward to getting back inside and crashing until his aunt got home.


Beau heard. His eyes went wide as he recognized the voice.

“You are twice as dumb as I thought you were, and you are fucked besides.”

Beau turned cautiously. Henry. The man who a week prior had warned Beau from antagonizing his aunt again stood before him. Beau made a slight gesture toward covering his huge cock with his hands, before remembering where that got him last time and leaving his arms at his side. He unconsciously pushed his shoulders back and stood a bit straighter. “Hen – S-sir…”

“Oh no, not near good enough. You stand at attention when I address you, boy.”

Beau stood straight, wincing as his head throbbed. Looking down, he took in his visitor. Henry was tall as he remembered. Elevated by the platform, Beau looked down at him, but standing on even ground the man easily eclipsed Beau. Unlike last time, Henry came bare-chested. Beau could now see what he only got a hint of last time. Henry was built. Years of hard manual labor had given the man a massive, rock-hard body. Beau noted how different it was from his own; Beau’s body came from hours in the gym, from vanity. A life of backbreaking labor had sculpted Henry’s. Even where Beau and Henry had similarly-sized muscles, Beau thought that the man looked like he could break Beau in half if he wanted. The broad, solid chest was covered with a coating of brown hair, with a smattering of grey, matching the short, salt-and-pepper hair atop his head. The man wore jeans over massive legs, and work boots. Sweat dripped from the man’s grey temples onto the coarse stubble that covered his face, and his bare chest glistened. Beau wasn’t sure how old he was, but he appeared to be about forty.

“I thought that I made myself clear last time I was here.” The man’s voice boomed. “You do not fuck around with your aunt.” He stepped forward, his face inches from Beau’s chest. “So imagine my surprise when I get a phone call from her yesterday afternoon, hysterical, begging me to come over and finish mowing her lawn so that she doesn’t get fucked when the appraiser comes over. ‘Course, I’m happy to help out Sarah, but then she told me why she needed my help.” Fucking punk, thought Henry. All the same. Still, Henry knew how to break his type.

Beau had first been startled, but now he was tense and, he admitted to himself, fearful with the large man yelling at him when Beau was naked and vulnerable. Also a concern was the fact that Beau’s cock was centimeters away from touching the bare skin of the man’s chest.

“She needed my help because you,” Henry punctuated this last room with a sharp poke in the middle of Beau’s hairless chest. “YOU skipped out on your chores! Off getting fucked up some way or the other, I’d bet. Is that it? I said, was that it, boy?” Another poke.

Beau had to shift to keep his balance every time the man’s massive hand touched his skin. “Yes, sir. That was it, sir. I was at the bar. Getting drunk.”

“Fuckin’ layabout piece of trash. You think you’re gonna pull that shit on my watch? You think I’m not going to teach you a lesson?”

Beau had it. It was bad enough this creep was interrupting his shower. Bad enough that his shouting was aggravating Beau’s headache. Bad enough that he was manhandling Beau’s naked body. But if this asshole thought he was going to come over here and treat Beau like a bitch, he didn’t know whom he was dealing with. “Listen, old man,” said Beau, surprisingly himself with how forceful he managed to make his voice., “You think I’m going to punk out like a little bitch because some old-ass fucker doesn’t have anything better to do that fuck with me, you can just go to fucking hell. Now get the fuck out of my face, and get the fuck out of here!” Beau stood, his chest heaving. He stared into Henry’s eyes.

Henry didn’t move a centimeter. The older man’s hands were on his hips. His breathing didn’t change an iota. The expression on his face was intense, yet almost amused.

“I said fucking leave!” Beau swung his fist at the man. He had been in dozens of fights before, and he won them all. Other guys knew not to fuck with Beau unless they wanted to get their asses kicked, badly. He had sent guys to the hospital with broken bones. If this old man wasn’t going to listen to him, he was going to put him down.

Beau’s fist connected with Henry’s jaw. Henry staggered back slightly. Beau stood, still on the platform, arms at the ready, cock swinging between his legs. He breathed heavily, his eyes wide. The man had his head turned to the side, and a hand in front of it. A red drop fell onto the man’s hairy chest. Shit, thought Beau. Maybe I broke the dude’s jaw, or knocked out a tooth. Beau smiled broadly. The man spit on the ground. Beau shouted, “Not so tough now, are you, fucker?”

“Heh. Hah!”

Beau dropped his fists slightly. His look of glee was replaced with confusion.

The man dropped his hand and looked at Beau. He smiled from ear to ear. A trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth down his chin. He continued to chuckle. “Hah! Boy, I do not know where you are from, but that was the weakest, pussiest punch I have ever felt in my life. Fuck, your aunt could lay a stronger one than that on my jaw. Fuckin’ Hell, you do need me to break you in. Make you a man.” Henry stepped forward again. “Now, remember, boy, this’s for your own good.”

Beau didn’t have time to move before the man landed a blow square on Beau’s cheek. Pain exploded across Beau’s face. He blacked out for a moment as he flew off the stone platform and landed square on his ass in the grass. He fell back, his back and head hitting the ground, his legs outstretched, his cock flopping on his stomach. His head spun. He sat staring at the sky for a length of time he couldn’t determine. He knew he had to get up. The boy turned on his stomach, resting his weight on his elbow, and attempted to raise himself on his knees.

Suddenly, an irresistible weight fell on Beau’s back. He felt rock hard, sweaty muscles and coarse hair pressed into his back. He felt hot breath and hard stubble against the back of his neck. An arm like steel cable wrapped itself around Beau’s neck, putting the boy in a headlock. Beau felt a powerful hand on his ass, forcing his lower body into the ground. “What the fu-”

Henry cut off the boy’s words by tightening the headlock slightly. Henry beamed. The boy’s actions cracked him up, his arms trying desperately to pry Henry’s arms off him, yet not budging Henry a centimeter. “Now, you’re going to listen to me, boy. I know your type, like I said. Big, buff stud. Got all the girls screaming when you fuck ‘em with your big-ass dick. Yeah, I saw that thing. Bet you it impresses those girls. Not me, though.” Henry chuckled. It was almost cute how he could feel the boy’s muscles squirming beneath him. “See, I’ve been around the block. I know what separates a boy from a man. You’re about as useful as a horse and not half as smart. But I’m gonna make you better, boy. I’m going to make you a man.” He lightened his headlock.

Beau exhaled. He breathed heavily. He was using all his strength to try and get the man’s arms off him, and he couldn’t even manage to make Henry struggle. Beau didn’t know how this was happening. He had never physically been at anybody’s mercy. “Help!”

Henry laughed. “You forget where you are? Shit, you’re so dumb maybe you did. Nobody’s gonna hear you out here. Now, you play along here, you can learn something, and it’ll be better for you.”

Beau put all his strength into trying to push Henry off him. Beau succeeded in rising to his hands and knees, but Henry remained on top of him, an iron grip on Beau’s body.

“Gonna be like that, huh? No difference to me.”

Beau felt a hand that could have been carved from granite reach between his legs and firmly clutch his balls. Beau froze.

“Told you, boy. To me you’re just an especially dumb farm animal. If that’s how I gotta treat you, so be it.” Henry emphasized his final statement by squeezing the boy’s hanging balls. He snickered at the boy’s exclamation.

Beau’s mind raced. Think through this, man, he thought to himself. You’re on your hands and knees like a fucking animal. You gave this old dude your best shot and now he’s fucking owning you. He’s literally got you by the fucking balls. Christ, this hurts. Just play along for now, Beau. Get him off you, get your balls free, then wait until he turns his back and kick his ass. What’s that noise, anyway. Almost sounds like he’s spitting in his hand. “Ahh!”

In assessing his situation in his hangover-plagued mind, Beau hadn’t been paying attention to Henry. All he knew is that he suddenly felt something pressed… there. Beau felt something huge pressed against his asshole. His eyes went wider than ever in his life. He tried to yell, but was stopped by Henry’s arm around his neck.

“I told you, boy, ” the man said, “Your big dick may impress those little girls back home, but not me. You know why, boy?” Henry, smirking, leaned his head down next to the boy’s ear.

Beau could feel hot breath on the side of his face. The 18-year-old was trembling.

“Because I’m bigger, Beau.”

Beau shouted as he felt something huge penetrate his hole. He had never had anything up there, ever. It was unlike anything he had ever felt. He was being invaded. He could feel it sliding deeper and deeper inside. “Please!” He shouted. “Please stop!”

“Hah!” Henry chuckled. “You could’ve prevented this easy. Not my fault you had to be such a fuckin’ punk. Now, what you’re feeling now is my cock, lubed up and sliding into your sweet ass.” Henry gave Beau a full-strength slap on the ass, and grinned both at the yelp that issued from the boy, and the bright red handprint he left on the boy’s creamy, white, smooth ass. “It’ll feel better if you relax, boy. And you’d better, because I’m not even halfway in.”

Beau wanted to keep shouting, but knew that nobody would hear him. They were too isolated, and his aunt wouldn’t be home for hours. He could barely process the feeling inside his ass. The man’s cock felt like a fucking flagpole. It was huge. How could it not be in all the way? This man was bigger, faster, stronger than Beau, and his cock was bigger than his, too? What am I supposed to do, he thought. I can’t get him off me. Can’t shout for help. Is he right? Should I just relax? Beau’s thoughts went blank as he felt the man’s cock drilling deeper and deeper into him. He heard himself shouting. At one point he felt the huge tool hit something inside him, and Beau could swear that his shouting started to sound more like… moaning.

“There ya go,” said Henry. “Knew you’d come around. I’m almost all the way in you now. Trust me, once I start fucking you, you’re gonna forget all about the pain.”

“Y… you’re going to fuck me?” Beau could hear the fear and exasperation in his voice. He felt tears running down his cheek. It seemed like a stupid question when he thought of it. After all, Henry’s dick was buried in his ass already. But Beau never thought he’d be getting fucked by a dude at all, let alone be totally owned by some old guy.

“What was that?” Henry finally pushed himself entirely inside the boy.

Beau groaned loudly. “You’re going to fuck me… sir?” His voice was meek.

“Yes,”, said Henry. “Yes I am. It’s a learning experience. You see, you think the world revolves around you. You think you can walk all over everybody. You don’t answer to anybody. You gotta learn different. If you’re going to be a fucking little punk, then I’m gonna teach you that you belong to me.” With that Henry pulled his cock back and again sank it deep into Beau’s ass. “Trust me, when I’m done you’ll thank me.”

Beau lowered his head. He had never heard himself make the noises he heard coming from his mouth as the man again and again slid his cock in and out of Beau’s tight ass. What started as a slow, deliberate pace to Beau’s first fucking was speeding up. He became aware not only of the huge tool destroying him, but the older man’s hips slapping against his ass.

All characters are eighteen years or older.



“Yeah, Mom?”

“What was going on before the game today?”

“Uh, nothing.”

“I saw Kip’s mom down by the fence before the game.” Mom had come to the game later. I was hoping she’d arrived after we played with Mrs. Diel, but I guess she got there during the middle of things. I hope she didn’t see too much.

“It looked like there was a big commotion around her by the fence. Did somebody get hurt? What was she doing there?”

“She was smoking, and came over to talk to Kip.”

“She didn’t offer you boys a smoke, did she?”

“No, Mom, she didn’t offer us a smoke.” I hope I sounded sincere. Mom dropped it, so hopefully she was satisfied with my answers. Phew.


Kip wasn’t a real friendly guy, and Vito just wasn’t one of the guys we hung out with or sat next to on the bench, so there was minimal follow-up discussion about much of the team fucking their moms, or their own participation in their moms’ gangbangs.

At the next game, Pete’s mom showed up in the bleachers in a tight fashionable summer dress that scooped way down in front, showing some pushed-up cleavage, more cleavage than I thought the slender blonde possessed. Pet’s mom was a bona-fide stuck up bitch, the kind of mom that tended to treat us like vermin when we were around, if she even acknowledged our presence. She seemed the least likely mom to wear something sexy to a ballgame. But then again she’d rarely attended her son’s ballgames before.

And that’s when a taboo was broken. Up to that point, as much as Pete and Eric and I talked about some of the hot moms in the stands, there was never any mention of any of our own moms. Eric’s mom was a redhead with a little weight on her and very average looks, but I enjoyed staring at her big tits and wondered what the redhead’s pussy hair looked like. Still, I wasn’t about to mention Eric or Pete’s moms, and they never mentioned mine.

But upon seeing Pete’s mom, Eric asked, “Pete, what’s up with your mom dressed that way?”

Pete didn’t seem offended. “I think she’s trying to piss off my dad. They’re going through a divorce. She caught him fucking my sister’s babysitter.”

Pete’s dad was Coach Clark, one of our team’s assistant coaches. I thought he was a jerk. He was hired on after the draft as an extra coach, because Pete was not one of our best players. Actually, he was one of the worst. I think he played ball just because his dad made him. Coach Clark was a typical big loud jock, never teaching but always yelling. I hated the way he berated Pete for making mistakes.

So today Mrs. Clark was sitting up in the stands looking standout sexy and overdressed, while Coach Clark stewed on the bench or on the field.

This discussion of Pete’s mom opened up a can of worms about each other’s moms. Eric asked, “Ever seen your mom naked, Pete?”

Pete replied. “Yeah. But only since Dad moved out. She used to be real modest, but now she’s always parading around the house in her underwear or sexy lingerie, and even leaving the bedroom door open when she changes.”

“How about you, Mike?” asked Eric. Ever seen your mom naked?”

“No,” replied Mike. “She keeps her door locked tight when she changes.” I kept my mouth shut about seeing Mike’s mom naked when she left the bedroom door open, right before she fucked me. “How about you, Eric?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen her naked. I’ll come home and be real quiet so she doesn’t know I’m there, and then she’ll come out of her bedroom or the shower completely naked.”

“What does she look like naked?” Asked Mike.

“Her tits are big and heavy and have light colored nipples,” replied Eric about his redheaded mom. “And her bush is basically the same red color as the hair on her head. Pretty wild looking.”

“Wow, a firebush!” Said Mike. I’d never heard that term before, and it made me chuckle.

“How about you, Dan?” asked Pete.

“No,” I replied. “I’ve never seen her naked. Never tried.”

“Why the fuck not?” Asked Eric. “She’s the hottest mom on the team.”

I was taken aback by that comment. Not because I was offended, but I just thought of my mom as a mom. Before Kip and Vito took part in their respective moms’ jizfest, I couldn’t imagine any son having sexual thoughts of his own mother.

I looked back at the bleachers, and there was Mom. She was very tall, five foot ten inches. And pretty enough for her age. I guess I always knew she was pretty. She did have long legs, which were currently on display in her shorts. And yeah, I guess she did have big tits. Wow, I guess she had REALLY big tits, now that I look at her in her tight red tank top. I felt my cock stirring in my cup, thinking about my mom as a sex symbol, and thinking about my teen teammates thinking about her sexually, the way I thought about their moms.

As if on queue, Mom leaned over to retrieve something from her purse, allowing her tank top to gap open, and a whole lot of cleavage to be displayed to my teammates. “Ummmmm!” several groaned.

Mike asked to no one in particular, “Anybody here fucked their mom?”

A month ago I would have laughed at such an absurd question. But witnessing Kip and Vito fondling their moms’ tits, it didn’t seem like such a wild inquiry.

Shawn replied, “I’ve SEEN my mom fucking. I watched her fuck a boyfriend a couple of years ago.”

“Was that kind of sick?” Asked Mike.

“She’s been divorced from my dad for years, so she had this one boyfriend. Nothing weird about it. It was pretty hot, watching them banging away. She was on top, and her ass was grinding and her tits were hanging down.”

We didn’t always have to look behind us in the stands for some female action. Sometimes we could just look forward. Shawn’s mom, Mrs. Truffeau, was one of our coaches. Not that she knew much about baseball. But here’s the way it worked with our league: the dads were all nuts about winning games, more than us players were, so picking the best players was important. And before the season, when the league held a draft, the managers got to reserve their kid, and their coach’s kids. So how good an assistant coach’s kid played was more important than how well the dad could coach. And since Shawn was a great player, and his mom was divorced and Shawn’s dad wasn’t around, Coach Miles picked Mrs. Truffeau as an assistant coach so he could automatically get Shawn on his team.

So at practices and at games, Mrs. Truffeau was the only female on the baseball field. She wasn’t the prettiest of moms, or one of the classiest or ladylike. Her face was just average, and her shoulder-length brown hair was sort of unkempt and unstyled. And her body was sorta skinny. But she did have nice sized tits on such a skinny frame. And her ass and legs weren’t bad, either, when she was the only female to look at. She couldn’t coach us on much, but I liked watching her spread her legs and stick her ass out while she hit fungos to us.

She started out the year as just a mom, but the more time she spent around us, she loosened up and tolerated our juvenile behavior and jokes. Sometimes I think she tried to fit in and act like a little more like a regular person and less like a mom. And sometimes I think perhaps she enjoyed our dirty teen innuendos.

And when the weather warmed up, she wasn’t afraid to dress skimpy in front of us; or the people in the stands. At practices it started with tight tank tops and spandex shorts over her skinny butt. Soon she was wearing that to games. And once she wore a one-piece bathing suit with cutoffs at a game, coaching first base like that. I don’t know what the parents or Coach Miles thought, but we took notice on the bench.

It seemed to start when she caught me staring at her tits once, and just smiled at me. Then she started trading dirty innuendos, when someone would make some juvenile dirty comment. Like when Kip held two baseballs in his hand and said something about having “a pair of big balls”. Mrs. Truffeau retorted, “Kip, you only wish your balls were that big.” And then some baseball bat jokes. Guys standing with their baseball bats between their legs, and someone would say something dirty. Mrs. Truffeau said, “I’ve had bigger.”

And then she started rubbing up against us. It began as little pats of our shoulders or backs when we made a good play. Some of the visiting fields had actual dugouts, or at least benches obscured by tarps and things. I used to sit next to Mrs. Truffeau on the bench as she kept score, and read the score sheet. She’d sit close to me as she explained how she kept score, and rub her bare leg against mine, and I’d press back. Once Mrs. Truffeau stood behind me on the bench and put her hand on my shoulders. She slowly caressed my shoulders and back, and then leaned forward until I could feel her upper thigh pressing against my upper arm. I pressed back, and then she pressed her pussy mound into my shoulder. All of this was out of the eyeshot and earshot of the other coaches and adults.

It got to the point that when she was coaching first base and I’d get on base, she’d come over and whisper some instructions to me, and press her tit into my shoulder. It was hard to concentrate on the game when she did that.

Then today, she showed up to the game in her black spandex shorts and tight white tank top, only this time she wasn’t wearing a bra! Kip and Eric and Pete and I all noticed right away. The whole game she’s out coaching the bases like that, and coming back to the bench and parading in front of us, as her sizable tits jiggled on her slender frame under her top, her nipples poking through.

Mrs. Truffeau’s son Shawn heard the comments from us boys, and finally said out loud, “Geez, Mom, why don’t you just flash your boobs?”

Everybody chuckled, and Mrs. Truffeau looked down at her chest. “They’re just boobs. What, you boys don’t like boobs?”

“Show us your boobs and we’ll tell you if we like them,” quipped Kip.

“You boys should be paying attention to the game, not boobs. We’re down four runs. We need to win this game.”

“Flash us once and we’ll get motivated,” said Pete.

“You win this game, and maybe I will, Pete,” said Mrs. Truffeau.

I didn’t think she meant it, but that WAS motivation, and we came from behind and beat our rivals in an important game. We were stoked about it, but the adults and coaches were even more ecstatic. Mrs. Truffeau invited all of us players over to her house for a sleepover celebration. We all went home and changed, and got dropped off at Shawn and Mrs. Truffeau’s house.

By the time I got there, Mrs. Truffeau was three sheets to the wind. She’d clearly been celebrating by having a few drinks, and met me at the door with a beer in her hand. She was wearing the same spandex shorts and braless white tank top she wore at the game. She gave me a hug and mumbled something about “a great game!”

Everybody else on the team was already in the family room next to the kitchen, and Mrs. Truffeau joined us there. She walked among us, holding a beer bottle in her left hand, telling each of us individually, “Good game.” She was patting us on the butt with her right hand. I saw Eric return the pat by patting Mrs. Truffeau on the butt, and she just smiled at him. That emboldened me, so when she walked by me and patted my butt, (actually, more of a squeeze), I grabbed a handful of her ass. The spandex gave way as I squeezed, and I cupped her cheek for a moment. Mrs. Truffeau moved on, but looked back and gave me a dirty smirk. My heart was thumping by my boldness, the feel of her butt, and her dirty smirk.

Shawn had some music playing, and Mrs. Truffeau started dancing with herself. Of course all of us teen boys watched her braless tits shake.

“Shake ‘em”, yelled Kip. That only encouraged her more, and she shook her tits and thrust her hips at us.

“Hey, weren’t you going to show your boobs if we won the game?” asked Pete.

“I said MAYBE,” said Mrs. Truffeau.

“Oh, come on, Mom, just show ‘em. They’re practically hanging out anyways,” said Shawn. They were hanging out the top and spilling out through the armholes at the sides.

The rest of us hollered out words of encouragement. Mrs. Truffeau put down her beer bottle, smiling, like she was pondering. Then she leaned over, bending at the waist, grabbed the top of her tank top in front with both hands, and pulled it open, revealing her hanging tits. I could see her white puppies dangling down, capped with large brown areolas. We all cheered, but the show was a quick one, and she stood up with a big dirty smile on her face.

“More!” We bellowed. Mrs. Truffeau smirked at us before taking a swig from her beer bottle. “More! Take it off!”

“Your turn,” she said. “You take your shirts off.”

I don’t know if she was bluffing or not, but Eric and I peeled off our shirts, and soon the entire team was standing and sitting around shirtless. Mrs. Truffeau put her beer bottle down, crossed her arms, grabbed the hem of her top, and started to lift up. Soon she was peeling her shirt up over her tits and trough her hair.

All of us boys hollered and whistled as Shawn’s mom stood and posed topless for us. Her tits did look pretty big on her slender frame. They were very pale, but her areolas were pretty darned large and quite dark. Her tits sloped down just a bit, but were round. I watched as her nipples puckered and stuck out.

Mrs. T picked up her beer bottle and took a swig, taking in the attention and hoots and whistles. She looked down at her naked tits, and then swung her shoulders from side to side, which caused her tits to shake. After getting more hollers and whistles, she shook her chest up and down to make her tits bobble.

Mrs. T leaned back against her fireplace mantle. She put her beer on the mantle, and rested her arms on it. There was a moment there when nobody knew what to do. Mrs. T asked, “Don’t any of you want to feel them?” With that, Kip and Shawn approached her and each grabbed a tit. Mrs. T gave her own son a dirty smile as he felt her tit. The rest of us approached, and soon there were numerous hands reaching out for tits. Other hands found her spandex shorts and felt her ass. Mrs. T smiled as she got jostled around. She managed to grab a few guys’ cocks and asses, and tugged down on a few guys’ pants until she got some bare stiff cocks in her hands.

I was able lean in and get my right hand on her right tit briefly, crudely squeezing it and tugging at her hard nipple. But the competition was harsh, and I got knocked off balance. I ended up on my knees right in front of Mrs. T. I was inches away from her pussy mound, and so I reached in and rubbed the hump over her tight pants. After a bit, I wanted naked flesh, and so I tried to reach in the top of her shorts, but they were too tight. Mrs. T looked down at me stretching her shorts, smiling at me. I reached up and started to pull her pants down. Somebody who was feeling her ass helped, and several hands yanked her pants down along with her white panties. I pulled them down to her ankles, and Mrs. T stepped out of the garments.

I was now staring directly at a naked pussy, covered with brown hair. It was sexy. I reached in and rubbed the matted fur for a moment, and then slid my middle finger in. Mrs. T was very wet. I finger fucked her for a bit as Mrs. T. grabbed several guy’s heads and pulled them towards her to make out with them. She spread her legs a little further apart, giving me room to work.

Since eating Vito’s mom, I had dreamed of licking another pussy. I burrowed my head into her crotch, felt her hair tickling my nose, and found her wet slit with my tongue. Mrs. T’s pussy was hot and musky smelling. I loved the scent, and licked deep and rapidly. Mrs. T spread wider and thrust her pussy harder into my face.

“OK, swing your bats. Show me your lumber,” hollered Mrs. Truffeau.

“Huh?” Said Brian.

“Take off your pants!”

All of us stripped out of the rest of our clothes. Mrs. T broke away from the pack, and as I stood up she grabbed my hand. “Don gets to go first because he ate my pussy so well.” She reached down and grabbed my hard cock, and stroked it rapidly. As she did, she grabbed my head and pressed her lips against mine, sliding her tongue into my mouth. Apparently she didn’t have an issue with kissing the mouth that just licked her pussy. Then she pulled me over to a coffee table, and said, “Lay down, Don.” I obeyed, lying on my back on the wooden coffee table, my legs hanging off the end. Shawn’s naked mom threw one leg over me, and lowered her torso over my crotch. I felt her slide her pussy down over my cock, and felt the warm wetness slide down the shaft, until her pubic hair met mine. Her tits were dangling over my head, and I grabbed them both.

Mrs. T got in a nice rhythm as she fucked me. My teammates circled the table, and reached out to play with their female coach’s tits. Someone stuffed a cock in her face, Kip I think, and she sucked on it while grabbing two more cocks with her hands.

“Ooh, Mmmph!” I heard her moan as her lips stretched around Kip’s cock. She squeezed her pussy tightly around my cock, and thrust her hips rapidly. I knew I wasn’t going to last long, and it sounded like Mrs. T wasn’t either. “Ggrrrpph! MMooorrphh!”

My coach gyrated her hips around rapidly, and shuddered. I let loose with a load of jism, up into her mature pussy. She fell down onto my sweaty chest, her tits mashed against me.

Finally Mrs. T sat up, and lifted her pussy off my glistening cock. I stood up, wobbly, and immediately Kip took my place on the table. Mrs. T simply smiled and lowered herself back down onto Kip’s cock, and she was off to the races again.

I realized that I was starving, so I grabbed one of the sandwiches that were sitting out, and sat and watched the action for bit. My female coach was naked and humping my friend, while an entire team of naked baseball players surrounded her with their hard cocks. Those that weren’t getting direct action from Mrs. T’s pussy, mouth, or hand, were pulling their own cocks, or grabbing her tits.

Rejuvenated, I joined the game again, getting my hands on Mrs. T’s jiggling tits. Kip didn’t even last as long as I did, and soon Tim was under the coach and getting fucked.

Mrs. T got about half way through the team, and then started switching positions. She took Chris as she lied on her back on the coffee table, Mike while lying on the couch, she sat on Kyle’s lap on the couch as she fucked him, and finally Eric fucked her as she lied on the kitchen table with her legs over his shoulders as he stood between her legs.

It was then that I noticed Shawn standing in the back, naked, stroking his hard cock. Mrs. T noticed him too, and called out, “C’mon, Shawn! I can see you want a piece of me too.” Shawn sauntered over to his mom, and she gave him a kiss on the lips. She reached down and grabbed his cock and stroked it slowly. Shawn played with her tits. Mrs. T pulled him over to the couch, pulled him on top of her, and guided his cock into her pussy. Shawn fucked his own mom in front of his friends, and if either of them was ashamed they sure didn’t act like it. They fucked rapidly and loudly, and both seem to have loud orgasms.

We did one more round after dark, and I got to fuck Mrs. T doggie style as she bent over the table, my crotch slapping into her rippling ass. By the third time through the team, Mrs. T was lying back on the floor, a beer in one hand and a sandwich in the other, for several guys. It was nearly dawn by the fourth round, and a sloppy drunk Mrs. T was having to suck my cock to get it rock hard again. And she did a great job on it. It was great feeling having her wet lips sliding up and down my sore shaft. I finished in her pussy, lying on top of her on the couch.


As occupied as my brain, and my cock, were, thinking about fucking and playing around with Mrs. T’s naked body, I was also giving some thought to my own mom. I’d never given her any thought before, sexually. And then I heard all the comments from my friends on how sexy they thought she was. And then I watched three of my teammates playing with and even fucking their own moms. And then I saw Mom on the bleachers flashing cleavage and legs. Could I get turned on by my own mom?

There was confusion for a few days. She did make my cock jump when I saw her on the bleachers. Was that a fluke? I observed her closer at home.

Which is to say I checked out her body. I concluded that if she’d been anybody else’s mom, I would find her hot. I started checking out her legs when she wore shorts. I tried to look down her tops. I watched her ass wiggle and tits jiggle when she walked. And then I saw her in the morning in just her nightshirt. She was braless. Her tits looked pretty darned firm, swaying as she walked. I sat across from her when she sat down in her short nightshirt, trying to look up her legs, and managed to get a glimpse of her white panties. When nobody else was home, I snooped in her room, rifling through her underwear and lingerie drawers. Her underwear was pretty boring. Mostly white and conservative, with just a few pastels and black stuff. No thongs, no front hook bras, no real push-up bras. I found a few used pairs of panties in her closet, searched through the crotch, and found one very long curly pubic hair. She wasn’t shaved. That night, for the first time, I masturbated while picturing my mom naked.


Eric was a two-sport player, and was sometimes absent from practices because of a high school track event. Eric’s mom, Mrs. Taylor was a “team mom”, meaning that she sometimes helped arrange snacks and parties and stuff. Before the next practice, Mrs. Taylor was there despite the fact that Eric wasn’t. Coach Miles announced that we would be voting on Team Captain, and that Mrs. Taylor would be officiating because coaches weren’t allowed to sway the vote. So Mrs. Taylor was the only adult within earshot as we sat on the bench.

“Um,” she began, “I have a really really huge favor to ask. I’d like you to vote for Eric for team captain. I think it would help his college resume.”

Eric was the best player in the league and very popular among the other players. He would have been my first choice regardless. But it was a little strange for his mom to be intervening. There was silence from the team.

“Um, can you be bribed?” Asked Mrs. Taylor. “What can I do to make you vote for Eric?”

After a brief silence, from the end of the bench someone muttered, “Show us your fire bush.” I don’t know if he meant it to be audible, but the team snickered.

I cringed and waited for Mrs. Taylor to explode. But the redheaded mom was trying to bribe us, so she couldn’t really squeal on us, could she? She smirked and looked at us through her glasses. “If that’s what you want. You make Eric captain, and I’ll show you my fire bush. Okay!”

We all looked at each other and muttered our affirmatives. Mrs. Taylor passed out paper and pen, and we each voted. I couldn’t help stare at her big tits in her tight t-shirt and her crotch protruding from her tight shorts, as she collected my ballot. Would she really show a team full of her son’s friends her pussy?

When Mrs. Taylor counted the ballots, or course Eric won. Unanimously, I would bet. “Thank you, boys. A deal is a deal. On Wednesday after school, Eric has a track meet. I’ll be home alone. You all come over. And don’t tell a soul. Promise?”

Once again we all agreed with the redheaded mom, and continued with the practice, eleven boys with hardons stuffed in their cups and jocks.

Wednesday came, and I walked over to Eric’s house. I met several other boys at the door, which was open. We walked through the screen door, and heard Mrs. Taylor upstairs. She yelled down, “Go on downstairs and grab a pop. I’ll be down when everybody is here.” What, was she going to come downstairs naked or something? Within a few minutes the entire team, sans Eric, was gathered in Mrs. Taylor’s downstairs family room. I was on the couch surrounded by teammates, when Mrs. Taylor yelled, “Is everybody here?”

“Yeah,” we hollered. Mrs. Taylor came down the stairs and entered the room. She was dressed real sexy. Bordering on slutty. Her skirt was so tight I don’t know how she got down the stairs in it. Her white blouse scooped low, showing plenty of her ample cleavage. She had on hose and spiked heals. Her face was made up, and her earrings and necklace were white. I realized that it was the first time I’d ever seen her with her glasses off.

The team started hooting and whistling. Mrs. Taylor smiled and posed for us, putting one hand up and one on her hips. “Are you ready for a show, boys?”

“Yeah!” we bellowed. Mrs. Taylor turned around and pressed a button on a CD player behind her. Some pop dance song I didn’t recognize started to play. Mrs. Taylor started dancing.

The first thing I noticed was the way her cleavage jiggled. Then her whole tits in her bra jumped up and down. Mrs. Taylor was a pretty average dancer, but she had a few sexy moves, like putting her hands up over her head as she thrust her chest out. As she spread her legs and moved her hips, her tight skirt hiked up some, and I watched her meaty thighs. I could see her hose tops peeking out from under her hem. She was wearing garters.

My friend’s mom leaned over and showed us more of her hanging tits, spilling out of her bra. To a round of whistles and grunts from the baseball team, she shook them. She even walked right over to where I was sitting on the couch, and shook them right in my face. Then she straightened up, heaved her chest out, and spread her legs wide, exposing her garters and the upper parts of her bare mature thighs. I’d seen her in shorts to know that the tops of her thighs were freckled, but now I was seeing her inner thighs up near her crotch and the freckles were fewer. Her garters were a lavender color. Soon I could see her panty crotch, and her panties were also lavender.

Mrs. Taylor turned around, and shook her ass at us. Her butt was fairly big, but I still enjoyed the mature woman shaking it at me. So did my teammates, judging by their faces and their hollering. She even bent down and stuck her butt in our faces. This caused her skirt to rise so much in back that I could see her panty crotch between her legs. I couldn’t see the back of her panties. I wondered if she were wearing thongs.

Mrs. Taylor faced us as she started to unbutton her blouse. Soon she was opening it up wide for us, displaying her lacy lavender push-up bra that matched her panties and garters. She slowly dropped the blouse behind her, and I gawked at her big tits inside of her bouncing bra. Her tits were hanging out the top and the sides of her cups.

Our Team Mom fumbled with a clasp on the side of her tight skirt, and slowly pulled down her zipper, smiling at us as she did, wiggling her hips side to side. Then she started to tug the tight garment down her hips, with some difficulty. She kept working at it, side to side, until her tight silk lavender panties were completely in view. She bent over as she pulled her skirt down her legs, and somewhat awkwardly stepped out of them.

Mrs. Taylor walked and danced her way back and forth right in front of us in her bra and panties and garter and hose and heels. She shook her coarse red hair. I watched her thighs jiggling. Then she lowered her left bra strap. “Yeah!” Mike yelled.

She dropped the other strap. She reached behind her, and worked on the bra clasp. She unhooked it, and held her bra up over her tits with her right arm. Finally, after much loud coaxing, she dropped the bra, and her big tits bobbled free. Her chest was heavily freckled, but after the first inch or so of cleavage, her pale tits were free of freckles. Her wide areolas were a bright pink color. Her nipples didn’t appear as fat as Mike’s mom’s, but they appeared longer.

Mrs. Taylor again put her hands up in the air and shook her tits at us, thrusting them out, before leaning over me and shaking them in my face. I wanted to reach out and grab them, but I wasn’t sure if that’s what she wanted.

Mrs. Taylor turned her back to us. She was, indeed, wearing thongs. Both of her large mature butt cheeks were bare, jiggling and rippling. They were nearly free of freckles, but not quite. She shook her cheeks rapidly. Then she put her hands on her knees and bent over, giving her big butt a little booty popping, or at least a mature suburban white mom’s version of it.

She faced us again. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her thongs.

“Are you ready for it?”

“Yeah!” We hollered.

“Do you want to see my fire bush?”

“Yeah! C’mom!” we yelled.”

“What? I can’t hear you. Do you REALLY want to see my fire bush?”


Mrs. Taylor started to tug down her panties at the sides. First her right side, then her left, teasing us by pulling them down a little and then back up. She rubbed her crotch, and thrust her pussy at us with her legs spread. With eleven boys yelling and frothing, she finally snuck them down further, and her red pubic hairs snuck out of her panties. She bent at the waist and pulled her thongs off, kicking them off of her heels.

As Eric had said, her pubic hair was red, just a shade lighter than the hair on her head, or maybe it was the light. It was a striking pussy. It was a thick patch, but trimmed back at the bikini line.

Mrs. Taylor stood directly in front of the couch again, thrusting her hips and shaking her tits. Kip, sitting next to me on my right, reached up and tried to grab a tit, but Mrs. Taylor pulled back, smiling. She then thrust her pussy into the face of Mike, who was sitting on my left. He reached up and got a handful of pussy, and Mrs. Taylor allowed his feel for just a moment before stepping away. Shawn was sitting in a chair to Mike’s left, and Mrs. Taylor shook her bare ass in his face, and he got both of his palms on her cheeks for a moment.

Then Mrs. Taylor danced her way back over to me. She spread her legs and danced right over me, she was so close that I could smell her perfume, and see her pussy lips glistening under the red hair. She dangled her tits over me, inches from my face. Then she straddled me, and rested her bare butt on my lap. She scooted higher, until her crotch was rubbing mine. My friend’s mom was giving me a lap dance!

I put my hands on her bare hips just below her garter belt. When she didn’t object to the touch, I slid them up her sides and grabbed her tits. She arched her back and thrust her jugs into my face as I squeezed them. My cock was hard in my shorts and rubbing against her pussy mound.

Kip and Mike reached up and got handfuls of tit, so I lowered one hand down to her pussy, and ran my fingers through the coarse red hair. I burrowed my face between her tits, and licked her cleavage. I pushed Mike’s hand out of the way, and suctioned onto Mrs. Taylor’s right nipple. It was long, and I flitted my tongue around it as I suckled her.

I felt a hand on my pants. Mrs. Taylor was snapping them. I reached down and eagerly helped her unzip my fly, and released my hard cock. Mrs. Taylor stroked it a few times, and then rubbed it along her pussy slit. I could feel a mixture of her hair and her smooth pussy lips. Then she rose up a little, and slid my dick head into her pussy. She was plenty wet, and she slid down the shaft with no problem.

I was fucking the mature redhead. While feeling and sucking her big tits. Man!

I leaned back for a good view of Mrs. Taylor’s body and face. Her eyes were alternately opening and closing, her tits were jiggling, and even her thighs rippled as she thrust into me. Kip and Mike were feeling her again, and Shawn was standing next to her getting in his feels. Mrs. Taylor leaned over and made out with me, entangling her tongue around mine. Then she leaned back and found Shawn’s lips and made out with him while I fucked her.

Mrs. Taylor started to shudder and whimper. Her noises got downright crude. She opened her mouth and let out several loud wails. She gyrated on my lap, and clamped her big thighs around my waist. I wasn’t about to last long, and before I could say a word, I shot my jizm into her pussy.

As soon as Mrs. Taylor’s first orgasm subsided, she stood up, turned around, and sat on Mike’s lap. Mike whipped out his cock, and I could see him stuffing it up into Mrs. Taylor’s pussy. As the big woman bounced up and down on Mike, he reached around and squeezed her tits. I reached over and gave them a few more grabs, but the competition from the rest of my team was overwhelming and I gave up. Shawn stood in front of Mrs. Taylor, and whipped out his hard cock. The red haired mom leaned forward and took the choad into her mouth and sucked it. She also reached out and grabbed two more cocks and stroked them.

Once Mike came, Mrs. Taylor stood up, and ended up leaning over the couch’s armrest, sucking Kip’s cock while Tim fucked her from behind. After those two were done, Mrs. Taylor ended up kneeling in front of Pete and sucking him as she sat on the couch, while Brad fucked her doggie style, followed by Kyle and Brian and Chris.

Soon Mrs. Taylor’s nylons were shredded and unhooked from her garters, and her shoes were finally off. But she still wore her pearl necklace, and as she laid on the couch on her back, I climbed on top of her chest and slid my cock between her two big tits, and with her help squeezing her mounds around my shaft, I spit a load of cum onto her freckled chest and her pearls.

Mrs. Taylor apologized that she had to ask us to leave before Eric or his dad might come home. We helped clean up the room a little, as Mrs. Taylor gingerly collected her strewn clothes and walked bowlegged up to her bedroom.


When Mom was driving me home from a game, she asked, “Hey, Don, do your coaches ever talk to you about paying attention to the game?”

“All the time.”

“It seems like a few of you spend a lot of time looking back into the stands. Are you looking for someone?”

“Uh, no.”

“I’d think that you guys were looking for girls, but there haven’t been any girls on the bleachers. Just moms.”

“Yeah. Well, moms are girls.”

“You boys aren’t looking at moms are you?”

“No! What if we were?”

“It’s Vito’s mom, isn’t it? She’s young and she dresses a little improper sometimes, I think.”

“I dunno, Mom. She doesn’t show any more than some other moms in shorts and tank tops and stuff.”

“Oh, so you boys ARE looking at some moms.”

I wanted to lie, but Mom wasn’t stupid. Plus, I wondered if MY mom was checking US out the way some of the other moms were. “Maybe a couple.”

“Is Vito’s mom your favorite? “

“Um, nope, not really.”

“Hmm. Kip’s mom then. She wasn’t wearing a bra at the last game.”

“I don’t know.”

“So which mom is getting the most attention?”

“I guess you do.” I can’t believe I blurted that out. But I was horny and wanted to get a reaction from Mom.


“Yeah. Some of the guys said you were the hottest mom.”

“Are you joking?”

“No. Really.”

“Who said that?”

“A couple of guys.”


Mom kept pushing me for names, but I thought that was indiscreet. I stonewalled. But after we got home, and we were alone on the family room watching TV, she asked again.

“It was Mike, wasn’t it? He looks back a lot.”

“He was one.”

“C’mon. Who else? Shawn?”


Mom started naming every player. I said “yes” or “no” or “I don’t remember” for each. Funny that she didn’t mention Eric. Finally, “Eric?”

“Yeah, Eric.”

“Really? What did he say?”

“I don’t know. Just that you were hot.”

“He thinks I’m pretty?”

“Yeah, they all think you’re pretty. And they said you had the best, um, body.”

“My legs?”

“Yeah. Your legs and your big boobs they mentioned.” I tried not to stare at Mom’s tits when I said that. But when I DID steal a glance, her nipples were protruding through her t-shirt.

Dad came home then, and Mom stopped pestering me, but the look on her face the rest of the night was like a schoolgirl who got a note passed to her by the popular boy.


A big part of the league’s revenue was made from our ball park’s concession stand, which was open whenever there was a game playing. Each player and one parent were required to work in the concession stand during one game a year, unless they could bribe their way out. I couldn’t bribe my way out. So I was assigned to work the concession stand on a Saturday afternoon when I wasn’t playing. I didn’t know anything about working a concession stand, and I wasn’t looking forward to it.

Until I entered the back door to the concession stand, and was greeted by Mrs. Kreske, the mom who rubbed up against Eric.

“Hi, Don!” I was flattered that she knew my name. “We get to spend the next two hours together,” she said with a smile. When my eyes adjusted to the lower light in the tiny room, I looked her over. Her dark brown hair was permed and barely covered her ears, not a youthful look, but classy. Her face was cute, her lips full, her earrings white. Her round medium-sized tits poked out of her tight tank top. Her pussy mound protruded from her gray cotton shorts. They were quite short, and her fleshy but firm thighs were on almost full display.

“Have you ever worked the concessions before?”

“Uh, No,” I mumbled.

“Well, I’m experienced,” she said with a smirk. “Let an experienced woman show you everything you need to know.”

I felt my cock tingle.

Mrs. Kreske proceeded to show me everything – about the concessions. How to wrap the hot dogs, how much the candy and bottled water cost, how to put cheese on the nachos. There really wasn’t much to it. Still, I let her serve the first few customers, as I stood back and admired her round ass.

I volunteered to assist the next customer. As I handed a woman her candy and waited for her money, Mrs. Kreske stood behind me and pressed her tit into my arm, the way I watched her do it to Eric. I wasted little time in rubbing back into her.

After that, the game was on. When I waited on the next customer, she stood behind me and put her hand on my waist, and pressed her bare knee into my bare thigh. By the third customer, the back of her hand was pressed against my butt. I got a hardon, and while we worked around the tiny room, she managed to brush her hand against it.

There were no words spoken about it, even when there were no customers at the window, but soon she was squeezing my butt cheeks as I was waiting on customers. When she waited on a customer, I pushed my hard cock against her butt. She leaned in my direction until my cock rested between her butt cheeks. I pressed forward into her crack, surprised at how great her jiggling cheeks felt around my cock, like a hot dog nestled in a bun.

The last customer left, but I stayed there, pressed against her ass. She reached back and felt my cock. I reached down and touched her ass, squeezing her right check through her thin shorts.

Mrs. Kreske turned around, leaned her elbows back onto the counter, thrust her tits out, and spread her legs slightly. She looked at me with a dirty smirk on her face, but said nothing. I moved forward until my hardon pressed into her pussy. She bucked her hips a few times and rubbed her pussy up and down along my cock. I saw a customer approaching, and broke away as Mrs. Kreske turned around.

I slid my hand up under her shorts and panties, and felt her bare ass right there in front of somebody’s oblivious dad. I was very subtle about my movements. I looked out at the field, and at the bleachers. I spotted Mrs. Kreske’s husband sitting in the stands. I reached into the front of his wife’s shorts and rubbed her crotch over her wet panties.

With a break between customers, Mrs. Kreske suddenly dove down onto her knees. She yanked my shorts and boxers down, and grabbed my hard cock. With her head below the counter where nobody could see her, I felt her slide her lips over my dick head, and then down the shaft. A customer appeared, an old lady, and I got her order and took her money and made change, while Mrs. Kreske sucked my cock. If the lady had any inkling what was going on, or why I didn’t move my feet as I reached for her candy, she didn’t say.

Several more people approached the concession stand. Mrs. Kreske heard them coming, and popped up before they arrived. I pulled my shorts up and we both serviced several customers. After Mrs. Kreske served the last one, I fell to my knees. I grabbed Mrs. Kreske’s shorts by the sides, and tugged them down quickly, along with her panties. Faced with a sizable triangular patch of thick brown pubic hair, I burrowed my nose in, and found her moist slit. I licked rapidly as she moaned and gyrated her hips. I heard her serving one customer as I quietly ate her pussy below the counter, and then she pulled me up and pulled up her shorts as more customers approached.

As Mrs. Kreske finished with the last customer, I dry humped her again, and as soon as the woman turned her back, I tugged her shorts and panties down. While staring at her round white mature ass cheeks and long crack, I yanked my own shorts and boxers down. I slid my cock along her pussy slit between her legs several times, and then slid the length of the shaft into her wet pussy.

Careful not to move too much, I humped into Mrs. Kreske from behind as she put one foot up on a shelf below the counter. I fucked her doggie style as we looked out at the ball game and the adults on the bleachers, including Mrs. Kreske’s husband. She leaned her elbows onto the counter, and I kept my movements below the counter level. But thrust I did, and I could hear my hips slapping into her rippling bare butt cheeks. The sounds of cheering fans and umpire’s calls and balls hitting bats faded into the background.

Mrs. Kreske panted, but otherwise kept silent. I reached up under the front of her tank top, up under her bra cups, and got in a few squeezes of her bare tits. I could feel her hard nipples as I thrust up into her.

“Um, um,” started Mrs. Kreske. I watched her eyes. Her lids were closing, and there was a smile on her face. “Whoooo,” she purred. She started to buck her hips back into me. Her body started to shudder.

The feeling of my hard cock sliding along her smooth lubricated pussy walls was amazing. Baseball used to be my favorite thing in life. Now, just about everything I lived for was fucking a willing woman, and even in such a non-private location I knew I was close to cumming.

Mrs. Kreske’s hips spasmed and squirmed. I looked at her, and she was biting her lip. “Uhh! Ohhhh!” She soon erupted with gyrations and spasms, just as I spewed a gush of cum up into her pussy. A grandmotherly woman walked by the stand and gave us a quizzical look, but kept walking.

Mrs. Kreske’s face dripped with perspiration as she panted. I looked out at her husband, who was oblivious that a teenaged boy had just fucked his wife within view of him. I slowly slid my cock out of Mrs. Kreske, and we both quickly fixed our clothes just as several more customers arrived at our stand.

For the next several minutes, until we were relieved from our shift, we took care of customers, and instead of sexual grabass games, Mrs. Kreske held my hand or patted my butt. As we finally walked out of the concession stand, Mrs. Kreske smiled at me and said, “Don, it was a pleasure working with you. I’d love to do it again some time.”

“Name the time, Mrs. Kreske,” I replied.

With a wink, Mrs. Kreske said, “I’ll get back to you on that.”


I watched a movie at home that night. Dad was watching too, but he fell asleep on the chair. Mom sat down next to me on the couch. The family dog took up a lot of the couch, so she sat close to me.

Mom had caught me several times trying to look down her top or at her legs in recent days. She never said anything, but I could tell by the look on her face that she knew what I was doing. She didn’t seem to mind.

Tonight, I could feel her left hip pressing against my right hip. She was wearing shorts. I was wearing shorts. She pressed her bare thigh against mine. I was careful at first, but then went ahead and pressed my bare thigh firmly into hers. Boy, did she have nice long legs. She rubbed them against me for a long time, sitting silently. Her breathing was uneasy.

She caught me looking at her bare legs. “Did you ever do any modeling when you were younger?” I asked.

She smiled, and said, “Of course not.” But she put her left arm around my shoulder, and pressed her tit firmly into my shoulder. I tried not to look over, but eventually I rubbed my shoulder back and forth over her left tit. She arched her back and heaved her chest.

Dad stirred and woke, and that was the end of it.

The next day, after the game, I was up in my room on my computer. I had the door mostly closed, but it was open about four inches. I heard Mom call me from right outside the door. “Don, give me your uniform so I can wash it.”

“OK, Mom.” I pulled off my baseball jersey. In my mirror, I could see Mom peeking through the door at me. I started to pull down my uniform pants, with my back to the door. Looking into the mirror, I saw that Mom wasn’t turning away. I had my back to her wearing just my jock, my bare butt exposed. Mom’s eyes were wide open.

I started tugging down my jock. Mom didn’t turn her gaze. My cock got quickly big and semi-hard, but it was hanging down, not straight out. I wanted to show Mom my hard cock, but I didn’t want to be any more obvious. I stood sideways, so my cock was exposed to her, but I wasn’t completely facing her. Finally I picked up my shorts, and pulled them up. When I picked up my uniform and turned to the door, Mom finally stepped back away from the door, and I handed her my laundry. She panted, “Thank you,” and walked down the stairs.

My mom watched me undress. Mom saw me naked.

I wish I could see her naked.


Near the end of the season, we got to play one out-of-town tournament. It was just three games tops, but the cool part was that we got to stay in a motel. But my parents were tied up with some class reunion that weekend. So my mom arranged for me to travel with Brian. My first reaction was disappointment, because Brian was possibly the last guy on the team I wanted room with. He was okay, just a little bit dorky and not overly bright. But Brian told me that it was his mom that we would be traveling with and not his dad, and I got real excited.

Mrs. Woods had long full blonde hair, was kinda pretty, had a decent body, and real big tits. Her body might be a tad bit “fleshy”, but her big round tits made her look voluptuous to me. Mrs. Woods was another of the “panties up her shorts” moms, who wore short shorts on the bleaches, which occasionally allowed for views of her panties up her shorts legs. The idea of sleeping in the same motel room as Mrs. Woods led to all kinds of fantasies, but at the very least I hoped for a glimpse of her underwear or sleepwear, whether she was in them or not.

Driving with Brian and Mrs. Woods to the tournament was pretty much uneventful, except that Mrs. Woods seemed to be watching me through her rear view mirror as much as she watched the road. I was in the back seat with Brian, on the passenger side, looking at Mrs. Wood’s tits. Her seat belt was pulled tight between her tits, and made her tits appear to stick out of her tight white shirt and smooth molded bra that much more. I glanced up and saw her eyes in the rear-view mirror, looking at me. She smiled at me, but I looked away anyways. For a while, until I went back to looking at her tits again. And then I’d see her looking at me again. This went on for several hours.

After the games on Saturday, we went out to a fast food restaurant with the other teammates and parents. We finally checked into our motel room late, with orders from the coaches to settle down and get to sleep early. Brian, Mrs. Woods, and me found our room.

Mrs. Woods put her suitcase on the bed toward the back of the room, so I dropped my bag on the floor and flopped in to the bed closest to the door. As Mrs. Woods opened her suitcase, Brian laid down on her bed.

“Brian, get in the other bed,” said Mrs. Woods.

“But mom, you said I could sleep in your bed when dad was gone,” whined Brian.

“Shhh,” said Mrs. Woods. She gave me an embarrassed glance. “Not with guests!” Brian got up and lay down on my bed.

Mrs. Woods rummaged through her suitcase and pulled out some garments. “If you boys don’t mind, I’m going to shower first,” she said.

Brian turned on the TV. Mrs. Woods walked up toward the bathroom, which was by the door. While out of our direct vision, I could still see her whole body through the mirror on the opposite wall. And to my surprise, she started to pull off her shirt while still standing outside of the bathroom!

Brian nudged me and pointed to the mirror. He could see his mom in her large white smooth bra, too. We watched together as his mom wiggled out of her shorts, and stood in white silky-looking panties. I’d swear she glanced up at us through the mirror, but she didn’t try to cover. However, her back was to us as she unhooked her bra in back and dropped it on the floor. I strained to see her tits, but all I could see was the side of one tit.

Mrs. Woods bent over and tugged down her panties, lifting her right leg and pulling them off. Now I could see her bare white ass. It was a little large, but round and firm enough that it was quite an arousing sight.

Mrs. Woods then walked into the bathroom and shut the door – most of the way.

“Nice ass, huh?” Asked Brian. “Did you see her tits?”

“Um, no, not really,” I replied. “Do you get to see your mom naked a lot?”

“Oh, a little bit. Want to watch her shower?”

Was Brian asking me to peek at his mom with him?” “Right now?”

“Yeah,” said Brian. “Let’s go.” Brian climbed off the bed and headed toward the bathroom. I followed him. Mrs. Woods had left the bathroom door open just a tiny crack. I could hear the shower water running.

Brian peeked through the crack for a moment. Then he stood back, grinning, and motioned me to look. I crept to the door and looked in with my right eyeball. Mrs. Woods was outside the tub, bending over it, adjusting the water. Her bare white ass was pointed at me, and I detected some pubic hair between her legs. I stepped back as she stood up. Brian looked again, and then motioned me to look again.

This time, I saw Mrs. Woods in the shower. She had left the shower curtain practically wide open. I wondered if she always showered like that, with water potentially spraying onto the floor, or if she was putting on a show. And if so, for whom? Me? Brian? Both?

Mrs. Woods was lathering her big naked tits. I could now finally see her whole left tit, pink areola and hard nipple and all. For a busty mature woman, her tits were still impressively firm. There was some slope from the side view, but her nipples pointed straight out. She moved her hand down and rubbed soap all over her hairy pussy. Her pubic hair was thick and long, and at least wet it looked darker than the hair on her head. She spread her legs wide as she rubbed herself, then soaped up her ass.

When the water turned off, we both scurried back to our bed. Eventually, Mrs. Woods walked out of the bathroom. She was wearing some sort of a short camisole – it couldn’t even be called a nightgown because it was too short. There was actually a gap between the hem of the shirt, and her panties. And panties were the only other garment she had on. They weren’t fancy but they were red cottons. The top camisole was white, scooped down, and was so thin that it was practically see-through. I could easily discern the shape and size of her areolas right through it.

Brian and I both sat on the bed pretending to watch TV, but it was pretty clear that we were simply watching Brian’s mom parade around in her skimpy sleepwear. As she grabbed a hair dryer, plugged it in, and dried and brushed her hair, she put on a great show of her big wobbling braless tits, jiggling panty-clad butt cheeks, and a slew of cleavage as she leaned over. She glanced over our way from time to time to make sure that we were watching her.

Finally, when she was done with hair and lotion and picking up, she sat alone on her bed. I’d been putting off showering during her show, but now I announced that I was showering, got up, grabbed my pajamas, and headed into the bathroom. I closed the door, and spotted Mrs. Wood’s discarded clothes on the floor. I picked up her white bra. 38D. It wasn’t padded at all. The flattened-out cups looked huge. I picked up her panties. I looked for pubic hairs in the crotch, didn’t find any. But it was quite moist. I sniffed it. It smelled musky. Finally I climbed into the shower. I thought about jerking off in the shower, but I decided that it would be indiscreet to jerk off with another family right outside the door.

Finally I emerged from the bathroom, wearing only short pajama bottoms. Normally I would have put on a t-shirt around other people, but since Mrs. Woods chose to be less-than-prissy around me, I felt bold enough to go to bed shirtless.

As soon as I got out of the bathroom, Brian charged in behind me for his shower. I combed my hair by the credenza. The second that Brian closed the door, Mrs. Woods rose from her bed, and said, “Oh, Don, you look good with your shirt off!” She approached me, and put her hands on my shoulders. “Such a firm young man,” she cooed.

Looking down at the mature woman with the big areolas inches away from me, rubbing my chest, I got an immediate hardon. Mrs. Woods looked down at my tenting pajama bottoms, moaned, and leaned in. She was nearly as tall as me, and her panty-clad belly rubbed against my cock. Then she reached down, grabbed my cock through my shorts, and slowly stroked it.

Mrs. Woods leaned in and kissed me. Although she was being gentle with my cock, her kissing was rapid and wild. Her lips sucked on mine, her tongue rapidly probed my mouth. I had a hard time keeping my tongue on hers, but I tried real hard to. My mind was thinking of my teammate in the bathroom, and what he might do or think if he saw me entwined with his mom. But he had been ogling her too, and encouraged me to watch her naked in the shower. I reached up with my right hand and grabbed her left tit.

Mrs. Woods moaned as I groped her big tit over her flimsy camisole. It was heavy and sorta soft but sorta firm. My thumb found her hard nipple. Mrs. Woods reached into the waistband of my pajamas, and jerked my cock faster. She pressed her panty crotch into my thigh, and humped me like a dog. Not knowing how long she would let this continue, I grabbed her panty-clad ass with my left hand, and squeezed it. Then I worked my hand inside of her panty from the side, and felt her bare right ass cheek, squeezing and jiggling.

We heard the bathroom door open, and Mrs. Woods jumped back. Brian gave us a quizzical look but said nothing. Mrs. Woods wiped my saliva off of her mouth, and pulled her panties back over her exposed right cheek, smirking at me.

As we crawled into bed, I jumped into the spot closest to Mrs. Woods’ bed. The TV was turned off, and the only light now on was the bathroom light, which gave off just enough light that I could watch Brian’s mom, lying on the edge of her bed, perhaps only four or five feet from me. She was on her side, facing me, her sheets pulled down. I could see her cleavage falling sideways out of her top, and her red panties pulled tightly over her crotch, her left knee up in the air, her legs spread slightly. I’d just been kissing that woman a few minutes ago and feeling those big tits as she jerked me off. I was dying to take the two steps over there so she could finish the job on my cock. But her son was also in the room.

I laid there for what seemed like forever, watching Mrs. Woods rolling about, hearing her sigh, and catching her looking at me. I stayed halfway out of the covers leaving my top exposed but not wanting to expose my hardon to my male sleeping partner.

Eventually I heard Brian snoring. Mrs. Woods could hear it too, not doubt. “Don,” I heard her whisper. “Don.” I looked over at her, and she smiled at me in the dim light, and patted the bed. “Come here.”

I gently lifted the covers and stepped out of my bed, checking to make sure that Brian was still asleep. I carefully climbed into the next bed. Mrs. Woods quickly threw her arms around me, and we started to make out. I tried not to act too eager, not knowing how far she would go with her son a few feet away. I immediately went back to work on her left tit with my right hand. Mrs. Woods moved her left hand around my bare shoulders and back, eventually sliding it over my butt. She reached into my pajama waistband, and groped my butt cheeks.

Since she was reaching under fabric, I slid my right hand down her side, found the hem of her camisole, and slid my hand up inside of it. I now had my mitt on her bare tit, and I caressed and squeezed the large melon. Mrs. Woods reached into the front of my waistband, and found my cock. I pushed up on the camisole, exposing her midriff, until both of her tits were exposed. I could just see them gleaming in the dim light, her white tits contrasting with her tanned chest. I squeezed both tits with both hands, tugging on her nipples. I lowered my head down onto her right tit, and planted my lips on it. I kissed my way over to her hard nipple, and licked it and sucked on it, as Mrs. Woods moaned.

Mrs. Woods pulled my pajamas down below my cock, and my hardon sprang straight out at her. She stroked it some more. I moved my right hand down her belly, and rubbed her pussy over her tight panties. Her cotton panty crotch was soaked. She spread her legs wider. Then I slid my hand down inside of her waistband, and felt her bare pussy. Her pubic hair was thick and fluffy, except for some wetness around the slit.

Mrs. Woods stopped stroking me, and sat up. After a glance over at the still-sleeping Brian, she pulled her camisole over her head and dropped it on the bed. Then she reached down and slid her panties down her hips, lifting her butt off the bed to wiggle it down off of her butt, and down her legs. I took her queue, and eagerly pulled off my pajamas.

We resumed our necking and petting, completely nude and completely entwined. I slid my middle finger into her wet pussy, and finger fucked her as she stroked me.

Mrs. Woods sat up again, slid down the bed, and lowered her head over my cock. With her blonde hair tickling my thighs, she slid her lips down the head and shaft, and sucked me off. I could hear the sucking noises her lips emitted.

I enjoyed the feeling immensely, but I still wanted to get my hands on the nude mom, and tried reaching down for her tits. Mrs. Woods got up on her knees, and moved her rear end up toward my head. She threw her right knee over my head, and lowered her crotch down onto my head. Realizing now that she wanted to sixty-nine, I helped her get her crotch into position over my lips, and licked up until I found my way through her pussy hair to her hot salty pussy. My nose was up by her asshole, but since she had just showered, it wasn’t as weird as I thought it would be.

Mrs. Woods began sucking my cock again, and we writhed on her bed in a full-blown sixty-nine. I could hear her sucking noises on my cock, and I made some slurping noises while eating her pussy. Mrs. Woods moaned a few times. The newness and weirdness of the situation probably kept me from cumming too soon. But soon Mrs. Woods was writhing her hips all over my face, and I had a hard time keeping my tongue in her pussy. I burrowed and lapped as fast as I could as she moaned through my cock. After one long spasm, where I thought she would fall off my face, my mature lover sat up.

“Mmmm,” she moaned. “Do you want to fuck me now?” Catching on that she had an orgasm and I hadn’t, I was eager to fuck her now. I just nodded, and when she lie on her back and spread her legs, I climbed on top of her, and worked my stiff cock into her slippery pussy. I rested on her chest, and thrust rapidly. She wrapped her meaty thighs around me, her naked tits pressed against my chest. Her pussy was smooth and slippery, and she moved her hips from side to side to get friction on all of her pussy walls. I didn’t bang her wildly for fear of waking Brian, but I was humping pretty fast, and her pussy sure felt great sliding along my cock shaft. I was quickly close to cumming, but so was Mrs. Woods, it seemed from her moaning and writhing. She spasmed again, shuddering and moaning, and I shot a load of cum into her pussy just as her jerking was subsiding.

I laid on top of her for a second, and then remembered Brian. There was no movement from his direction, but he wasn’t snoring anymore. I quickly but quietly climbed off of Brian’s mom, found my pajamas, put them on over my sticky cock, and slipped back into my bed. I watched Mrs. Woods slip her panties and camisole back on, and climb under her covers.

I tried to sleep, and after playing two baseball games that day, I finally dozed off. But I was woken up what seemed like only a few minutes later by Brian climbing out of bed. I watched him walk over to his mom’s bed. I wondered if he’d woken up and knew what his mom and I had done.

Brian climbed under his mom’s sheets next to her. I saw him put his arms around her. There seemed to be some groping under the covers. Then the sound of kissing. Wow, Brian was making out with his own mom!

I kind of felt cheated on, watching the woman I just fucked messing around with another guy. But it was kinda wild and erotic watching a guy feeling up his own mom. Soon Mrs. Wood’s clothes were off again, and Brian’s face was burrowed into her tits. Then he worked his way down her torso, and buried his face in her crotch. He was eating the pussy that I’d just fucked. If he didn’t know before that I’d fucked his mom, I wondered if he was figuring it out now.

It was erotic watching them go at it, but now I wished that it were me over there with Mrs. Woods instead of Brian. I was hard again.

I heard some muted whispers, and then I heard Mrs. Woods say, “Don. Don?”

I looked up at the woman calling me who was getting her pussy licked by her son. “Come over and join us, Don.”

This was crazy, but I stood up, and stood over Mrs. Woods and Brian. “Let me suck your cock again. C’mre,” ordered the big-titted mature blonde. With her guidance, I knelt by her head. She lifted her head up, and sucked my cock. I grabbed her right tit, and freely groped both of her tits and she sucked me, while Brian ate her pussy.

Mrs. Woods stopped sucking and said, “I want two cocks in me”. Brian lifted his head, and climbed off the bed. Mrs. Woods slid her butt over to the side of the bed. Brian stood between her legs, lifted her calves, and threw them over his shoulder. He thrust his hard cock into her pussy, and pounded her hard. Mrs. Woods went back to sucking me off, and she now indeed had two cocks in her.

Brian’s thrusting made Mrs. Wood’s big tits jiggle up and down on her chest. I tugged her nipples and squeezed her tits hard and rapidly.

When Brian’s cock fell out of his mom’s pussy, Mrs. Woods stopped and said, “Brian lay down here.”

Brian walked around to the other side of the bed and laid down on his back. Mrs. Woods climbed on top of him and straddled him. She slid her pussy down onto his stiff shaft, and fucked him from on top. I watched her big tits dangling down and swinging around, and her hips and butt cheeks thrusting erotically.

Mrs. Woods sucked my cock for a bit as I knelt at her and Brian’s side. Brian felt her left tit, and I felt her right tit.

Mrs. Woods stopped fucking and said, “Don, get down behind me. Fuck my ass.” It took me a second to understand that she meant just what she said. I climbed behind her, as she laid down on top of Brian. I crouched over her as she helped spread her asshole with two fingers. It was dark but I could just detect the puckered asshole that I was supposed to fit into. It took a lot of work and some suggestions from Mrs. Woods, but I slowly started to slide my dick head, and then my shaft, down the tight hole.

Eventually we got into a rhythm, with Brian fucking up into his mom’s pussy, and me fucking her asshole. Mrs. Woods was now moaning wildly. She no longer had to worry about waking one of us up. “Ohhh! “Ooooooooh!”

I watched Mrs. Wood’s big white asshole jiggle as I thrust into it. I could see Brian’s right hand reaching up and feeling his mom’s left tit. I reached around and felt her dangling right tit.

“Huhhh! MUHHHHHHH!” groaned Mrs. Woods loudly.

I gushed a load of cum up into her asshole.


Mrs. Woods finally collapsed on top of Brian. I presumed that she felt him cum, too. I lied on top of Mrs. Woods and Brian for a few moments, then slowly slid my cock out of Mrs. Wood’s asshole, and collapsed on the bed next to her. Mrs. Woods then climbed off of Brian, and lay next to me with Brian on her other side.

“Ohhhhhh!” She moaned. “That was fantastic!” She fanned her face with her hand. She put her arms around both of us.

After a few minutes of panting and resting, Mrs. Woods asked, “Are you boys done for the night? Perhaps I should shower again.”

“I’m ready again,” replied Brian.

I’d had two major ejaculations, but I knew I was good for a couple more. “I’ll do it again, whenever you’re ready,” I said.

“Oh, my,” said Mrs. Woods. “I forgot that I was with two teenagers and not a forty-five year old man like Brian’s dad!” Within minutes Brian and I were both munching on one of her tits as she jacked us off, while Brian fingered her pussy and I fingered her asshole.

Brian took her next, alone mostly, but I got in my feels, licks, kisses, and fingering. When Brian finished again, I went at his mom in a big hard way, and we tag teamed and tagged up all night, until I could see the light peeking through the curtain.

I felt like crap at the game the next day, and my nuts hurt, but I didn’t care. It was a great road trip. On the drive back home after the game, Brian and I took turns sitting in the front seat and feeling up Mrs. Woods whenever traffic allowed. Despite her complaints that “you guys tore up my pussy and asshole last night,” Mrs. Woods finally had to pull over at a rest area to suck our dicks to get us to calm down.


When sitting around wondering who the hottest mom on the team was, I had a few choices. Many of my teammates told me that the hottest mom was MY mom, and I was starting to see their point. But among the OTHER moms, there was Pete’s mom who was a gorgeous slender blonde; Mrs. Nippola, the oversexed Italian; big-titted MILFs like Mike’s mom and Eric’s redheaded mom; Bill’s big black busty mom; and some brunette cuties like Mrs. Curtis and Mrs. Kreske.

But the top of my list might be Mrs. Osteen, Chris’s mom. She had a full head of blonde hair cascading down just past her shoulders. Her tits weren’t as big as some of the others, but they were a nice full pair, bigger than the other blonde moms, perhaps a C cup. Her figure was curvy but not at all heavy. And her face was gorgeous, in a wholesome way – a slight overbite to her teeth giving her an innocent demure.

Mrs. Osteen wasn’t going braless or wearing miniskirts like some of the others, either. But her signature look was several very short shorts that she wore to many games. Two games ago I watched her sitting on the bleachers with her legs crossed. Her shorts had ridden up so high that I could see a bit of her light blue panties at the side.

And on this day, was the sexiest look I’d gotten from her. I’d arrived early and was sitting on the bleachers by myself. Several feet away from me was Mrs. Osteen, on the same row. She was talking to Mrs. Deil, who was sitting directly behind her on the next highest row. So Mrs. Osteen threw one leg over her bleacher seat, and was straddling our bench. With her legs spread wide this way, Mrs. Osteen’s tight shorts cut into her crotch, and appeared to be pushing her panties right out the side of them. From a distance of about five feet, I could see most of her panty crotch. Her panties were cotton, white with gold horizontal stripes on them. I felt she was spreading just for me, like she was thrusting her crotch out to me. And then I spotted a little tuft of dishwater blonde hair peeking out of the side of her panty crotch. Man, I wanted to see the rest of that blonde beaver!

During the game, Chris, Mrs. Osteen’s son, invited us to a sleepover at his house immediately after the game. Everybody immediately accepted. I’d be seeing Mrs. Osteen at her own home tonight. I hoped that I’d see more of those gold and white cotton panties.

We won the game in extra innings and were pretty tired and sweaty as we arrived at Chris’s house. With the last minute invitation, none of us had a change of clothes. And we had a morning game the next day. Chris’s dad left the house shortly after we got there, to go out with some old buddies. That left Chris and an even dozen other teen boys alone with Mrs. Osteen. Chris had already partaken in some of our Mom Debauchery, so he no doubt knew what was on our minds. I wasn’t sure what was on Mrs. Osteen’s mind when she started the evening out by announcing loudly, “All of you boys, take off your shirts.”


“You have a game tomorrow morning. I need to wash your uniform jerseys,” she said.

I wanted to say; “I will if you will,” but I held my tongue. It made sense, and the thirteen of us peeled off our sweaty uniform tops and handed them to Mrs. Osteen. She threw them into the wash, and then the pizza arrived. We ate with our shirts off. I nearly jumped when Mrs. Osteen put her hand on my bare back and asked, “Do you want more?”

After we ate the pizza, Mrs. Osteen, still wearing her tank top and short shorts that she wore to the game, announced, “OK, time to wash your pants and socks.”

I looked at Eric and Tom, and then to Chris, and then back to Mrs. Osteen.

Chris said, “They don’t have any other clothes. And they aren’t wearing mine.”

“Well,” responded Mrs. Osteen, “those dirty pants need to be washed before the game. You can keep your underwear on.”

Being the mother of a ballplayer, Mrs. Osteen must’ve known well that the only things on under our uniform pants were jocks. “You want us to run around all night in our jocks?” asked Pete.

Mrs. Osteen smiled and flashed those protruding front teeth. “I don’t mind at all. C’mon, guys, it’s no big deal.”

“Then you run around in YOUR underwear,” said Shawn.

“OK, I will,” said Chris’ mom. With no further hesitation, she reached down and peeled off her tank top, and threw it into onto the floor. Then she shimmied her tight shorts down her hips, stepped out of them, and threw them down with her shirt. She simply stood there smiling, with her hands out and her palms up. Her bra was white, and I WAS seeing all of her tight white panties with the gold horizontal stripes.

So Pete started, and then everybody else pulled off our baseball pants and socks. We stood in Mrs. Osteen’s living room, right in front of her, thirteen teen boys, wearing only jocks. If Mrs. Osteen was embarrassed, she didn’t show it. In fact, she had an expression of what I would call lust on her, gawking at each bare butt that turned her way. And she had thirteen teen boys gawking at her in her bra and panties.

Mrs. Osteen bent at the waist, showing lots of cleavage, as she picked up the pile of clothes and carried them to the laundry room, with thirteen pairs of eyes on her jiggling panty-clad ass cheeks rising and falling, and her shaking hips.

As we ate our pizza, Mrs. Osteen walked around serving us pop, stopping to touch our shoulders and even pat a few bare bottoms. I considered patting her panty-clad bottom, but I chickened out.

The phone rang, and Chris answered it. He brought the phone to Mrs. Osteen, saying, “Mom, it’s Dad.”

Mrs. Osteen grabbed the phone and began talking to her husband. I listened in as much as I could, wondering what she would say to her husband as she stood among thirteen horny males as they were dressed in only jocks while she was dressed in only her bra and panties. “Oh, we just got the pizza, so we’re still eating…” She strolled to where I was sitting, and ran her left hand through my hair as she held the phone in her right hand. “I suppose the boys will want to watch a video later. I’ll put in a movie for them…” “Yes, the whole team is here…” She pressed her thigh into my back, and slid her body over so her pussy mound was rubbing into my shoulder. “They’re no trouble at all, they are all good boys…” She patted Mike’s bare ass while she said the last part. “Love you dear, see you later. Bye.”

She hung up the phone without mentioning our attire.

Mrs. Osteen strolled to the kitchen, with her butt cheeks rising and falling under her panties, and returned with a dozen ice cream bars, and passed them around. Her eyes were on her nearly naked male guests most of the time. And her hands were on us quite a bit of the time.

“Mrs. Osteen,” said Eric. “I really need to shower. Do you mind if I shower?”

“Actually, we could all use a quick shower,” said Chris. “But we can’t all shower, there wouldn’t be enough hot water.”

“Well then,” smiled Mrs. Osteen, “You’ll have to share the shower.”

“Shower together?” said Kyle. “No freakin’ way.”

“You’re jocks, you should be used to showering together,” said Mrs. Osteen.

“Not in a little house shower,” I said. “That’s gay!”

We were at a brief impasse, but Mrs. Osteen’s wheels were turning. With a big smile on her face, she said, “It wouldn’t be gay if there was a girl in there with you.”

“Okay, Mom,” said Chris, not getting where his mom was going. “Get us a girl and we’ll shower with her.”

But the smile on Mrs. Osteen’s face told me she wasn’t completely joking. And when she replied, “I’m a girl. I need a shower, too,” my hard cock filled my jock once again. “There’s only one shower in the house, and there’s room for three of us in there.” I glanced at the rest of the team, and their jaws were dropping. “C’mon, in here boys, line up in twos.”

We followed Mrs. Osteen into her bathroom, smiling at each other. A few weeks ago, probably none of us would believe this could happen, but now we were hopeful. Would she really jump in the shower with us?

Mrs. Osteen turned on the water in her bathtub, and then started the shower. She turned to us, and said, “OK, boys’, strip naked.”

“You first,” I replied.

Mrs. Osteen smiled at me, and as the thirteen of us stared at her white bra, and the cleavage it exposed when she bent down and pulled her panties right off, exposing that thick dishwater blonde triangle of pubic hair that I’d glimpsed earlier in the day.

Mrs. Osteen then turned her back to me. I was staring at her bare white ass, until she said, “Unhook me, Don.”

My hands were shaking and I took too long in front of my teammates, but I got the three clasps of her bra unhooked. She turned around, and made a show of dropping her bra and exposing her two big mommy tits for her son’s team. Thirteen hoots echoed through the bathroom to approve of her large round white tits with medium-sized pink areolas on each.

As Mrs. Osteen pulled back the shower curtain and stepped into the tub, the rest of us quickly peeled off our jocks. Kyle and I were at the front of the line, and we both quickly stepped into the tub, on either side of Mrs. Osteen. Kyle was by the showerhead and I was in the back.

Mrs. Osteen picked up the bar of soap, and started soaping my chest, running her hands over it. My hard cock was sticking out, and it poked her just above her pubic hair. She smiled at me as she rubbed my chest and shoulders.

The wet naked mom then turned to face Kyle, and rubbed soap on his chest. Then she handed me the bar of soap and said over the sound of the running water, “Do my back.”

I quickly rubbed soap in my hands, and rubbed her naked back. My cock accidentally poked into her butt, and Mrs. Osteen pressed back into my cock as she lathered Kyle. So then I ran my hands down her lower back, and rubbed soap over her bare but. I got in a few good squeezes. Her skin felt quite slippery. Knowing time was tight with ten other horny guys waiting in line, I reached around Mrs. Osteen and rubbed my soapy hands over her wet tits. Wow! What an amazing, slippery feeling.

Mrs. Osteen arched her back in approval as I played with her slippery tits. She was stroking Kyle’s soapy cock at the same time.

I pressed my cock into her ass crack, and she spread her legs as far as she could and thrust her butt back. My hand found her wet pussy hair, which looked a bit darker when it was wet. I slid my slippery finger into her pussy, which was also slippery. I didn’t know if it was the soap, or her own juices. But I decided to go for it, and as she bent slightly, I crouched down a little and let my cock head slide over her pussy from behind. With some assistance from Mrs. Osteen, I slid my cock up inside her, and fucked her doggy style standing up as the water cascaded down on us. The smacking of my wet pelvis against her wet ass echoed through the bathroom, as did her squeals.

It didn’t take me long until I came, and I immediately stepped out of the tub and found a towel. I dried myself in the back of the bathroom, watching my teammates fuck and play with Mrs. Osteen, a pair at a time. Nobody was allowed to stay in the shower for more than about five minutes, so the action was furious. Still, Mrs. Osteen managed to get everybody to cum. If she wasn’t jerking one guy off while another fucked her from behind as I did, then she was on all fours in the tub, getting fucked from behind while the guy in front of her fucked her mouth and played with her dangling tits.

The ends of Mrs. Osteen’s hair were wet, and it stuck to her back as she got fucked and sucked. Her flesh was in a constant rippling motion. Her moans echoed throughout the bathroom, as did the constant flesh-slapping sounds as a half-dozen teens fucked her in turn. There was moaning and laughing from the guys in front of her who were getting sucked and jerked while they felt up their teammate’s sexy naked wet mother.

Somewhere in the middle of the train was Chris. I don’t know if he’d had a sexual relationship with his mom before, but he snuck in behind and felt up his mom, and when she turned and saw her son with a hard cock, she simply smiled at him and slid the cock into her wet willing pussy like he was just another teen boy.

When the water went cold, Mrs. Osteen squealed and turned off the shower. Everybody else exited the bathroom, but I found a dry towel and wrapped it around the shivering Mrs. Osteen. I patted her off, and made a point of fondling her rock-hard nipples.

Mrs. Osteen looked down at my hard cock, and said, “Once wasn’t enough for you, Don?”

“Hell, no, with you two or three times won’t be enough,” I bragged.

“Mmm,’ she cooed. “I’m freezing now. Come and get me warm.” She took my hand, and led me back into the family room, threw her towel on the carpet, and laid down on it. She spread her legs wide, and smiled up at me. I kneeled between her legs and worked my cock into her still-wet pussy, lied on top of her, and fucked her slowly. At first her skin was cold and clammy, but soon we were both warm.

It didn’t take long for me to cum a second time, and then we were off to the races again. My teammates lined up, and this time it wasn’t just two boys at a time on her. Soon Mrs. Osteen was on top of Bill, riding his cock, while she sucked off Pete and had her flopping tits felt by Shawn and Mike as she jerked their cocks.

June 2018
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