Soccer Mom Skank

Marty was less than enthusiastic about Joan's idea of a romantic weekend on the Oregon Coast. Vegas or Maui would have been his choice, but Joan was sold on the idea of a peaceful cabin by the sea. Two days in the boondocks probably wouldn't turn his wife into the wanton sex fiend that he desired, but at least it would be a break from the old routine.

After a late start on Friday, they spent most of Saturday sleeping in, but by evening they were well rested and eager for something to happen. Dinner at the Oceanside Grill was better than either of them expected. Marty was on his third scotch and soda, and the mischievous twinkle in his eye wasn't lost on Joan.

"What are you thinking," she asked slyly.

Marty leaned forward and whispered. "I'm thinking that our waitress must have gone for a break. I just saw her scoot out the side door with a cigarette in her hand."

"So? Do you have the hots for her or something? I didn't know you were into teenagers."

"Why would I be interested in some skinny kid when you've got the perkiest pair of tits on the West Coast?"

He wasn't kidding; fifteen years of marriage and the sight of Joan still turned heads. Even after having two kids, she still had the same lean, athletic swimmer's body that she had when they first met in college.

"Okay," she purred. "So what do my tits have to do with our waitress' smoking habit?"

Marty leaned back and took a sip of his drink. "Maybe because I have a raging hardon, and was hoping you'd get under the table and take care of it."

Joan giggled nervously. "Marty…we're in a public place. I can't do that here – someone will see us."

"No way, we're in a dark corner, there's no one around, and if the waitress comes back I'll tap you on the shoulder."

Her playful demeanor turned to discomfort as she shifted in her seat. "I'm sorry Marty, but I just can't do that here - how about if I took care of you in the parking lot?"

Disappointed, Marty downed the last of his drink. "Never mind, we'll just get the check and leave."

Marty's hope of finding any real excitement on this trip was melting away. He knew Joan wasn't a prude, but her reluctance to try anything risky frustrated him. He knew she loved sex as much as he did, but the hang-ups instilled in her by her Methodist Minister father ran deep.

After taking care of the check, his irritation with Joan's goody-goody habits compounded when she insisted on doing the driving. He handled his liquor well, but Joan was so paranoid about him getting a DUI, that there was no arguing over the matter. He just handed over the keys and got in the passenger side.

The first few minutes in the car were quiet. She maneuvered the SUV cautiously down the narrow road back to the cabin. Normally it was only a twenty minute trip, but Marty figured it would probably take an hour the way Joan drove.

"So, tell me…what sexual fantasy do you have that I can make come true for you?"

Marty couldn't believe his ears. Was Joan – his Joan – asking this question?

"You mean other than having my wife blow me in a restaurant?"

He knew it was a cheap shot, but he couldn't help himself. After spending the last twenty-four hours alone with her in the middle of nowhere, she had gotten on his nerves. The incident in the restaurant moments earlier was just the tip of the iceberg.

For years, she had been saying that she would be open to try anal sex when the time was right. Last weekend, he thought he might finally have his chance. She had a few drinks at the country club, and she was acting pretty frisky that whole evening. When he broached the subject on the ride home, she wound up giving him a self-righteous lecture about how that sort of thing was demeaning to women.

"Seriously, Marty…tell me your fantasy."

Not being in a diplomatic mood, he thought he would push the envelope a little. She was just humoring him anyway, so why not go for shock value.

"Well…I always wondered what it would be like to watch while you get fucked by another man. Don't worry; it wouldn't be anyone we already knew, just some complete stranger - some guy we would never see again."

His attempt at striking a nerve seemed to have worked. There was a palpable tension in the air, as she pondered a response.

"Alright Marty, If that's what you want," she huffed. "The next man we come across, we'll ask back to the cabin and you can watch him fuck me. Would that make you happy, dear?"

"Great," Marty shot back. "It's about time!"

He'd seen her like this before and he knew she was just being melodramatic. She knew the chances of them finding anyone wandering along the side of the road at this time of night were extremely remote. They were in the boondocks, and everyone for miles around were all safely tucked away in their beds so they could be up in time for Sunday Services.

As she slowed to take a bend in the road, Marty noticed two figures rooting through a dumpster at the edge of the brush.

"There you go, Joan. I think I spied a couple of prospects! You can take your pick"

Much to his surprise, Joan pulled over and hit the brakes. She craned her head and observed the two grubby tramps digging in the trash.

"Is that what you had in mind, Marty?"

He didn't say anything.

"Hmmm…I can't decide which one I want, why don't you choose for me?"

At this point, Marty wished she would just let it go. It had been a frustrating night, and the thought of a nice warm bed had become pretty appealing. However, as tired as he was, he wasn't going to give in to her. He was willing to keep up this little charade as long as she was.

"I can't decide either. I guess you'll just have to fuck both of them."

Joan rolled down her window. "Hey fellas, how would you like to make 20 bucks each for just a couple of hours work?"

Both stared at her with looks of disbelief. Obviously, they didn't receive many job offers.

"What do we have to do," asked a stick-thin black man with a matted afro who looked to be in his late forties.

"Oh don't worry…nothing to strenuous," Joan replied.

"We'll do it for fifty," shouted the other one, a balding, pudgy white man with a scruffy beard.

"It's a deal – hop in!"

"That's fifty apiece, right," chimed in the black man.

"Sure, my husband's got plenty!"

Marty's blood boiled as the two bums, reeking of alcohol and trash, climbed into the backseat of his brand new Jeep. If this is how she wants to play, then fine, he thought. I'll be damned if I'll lose the upper hand to her – I'd never hear the end of it.

Ten long minutes later, Joan ushered the two vagrants into the front room of the cabin.

"Perhaps, you men would like a drink? Is scotch okay?"

Both produced affirmative grumbles.

"Marty, why don't you entertain our guests while I slip into something more comfortable." Before he could reply, she disappeared into the bedroom and shut the door. He was left alone with her guests, who had already settled in on the couch

He poured each of them a tumbler of twelve-year old single malt scotch, and one for himself, too. He figured he'd let them have a quick drink, pay them their promised fifty apiece, and then chauffer them back to the dumpster.

Without any prompting from Marty, the thin black one began to talk. He announced that his name was Leon, and his grubby friend's name was Earl. From there, he blathered on about how appreciative he was to make a few bucks - these bring hard times, and all.

Marty was in no mood to listen to a bum's life story. It was time to put an end to this nonsense, now. They could finish their drinks in the car. Just as he was reaching for his wallet, he heard the bedroom door open.

Apparently, Joan had decided that the game would continue a little longer. She waltzed into the room wearing a lacy, black camisole, and thigh-high black nylons.

Leon stopped rambling and took notice. "Damn, you a fine lookin' woman."

Earl nodded in silent agreement.

"I'm glad you think so; an old married woman like me doesn't get to hear things like that very often,"

"She look just like Snow White," Leon added.

Although, dumbstruck, Marty couldn't help but notice the irony. Snow White had been Joan's nickname when they met in college - as much for her goody-two shoes personality as for her dark hair and creamy complexion.

A bizarre fascination overtook Marty as he watched his wife flirt with the two smelly lowlifes. So she wants to give the bums a boner – fine, he mused.

"Do you mind if I sit with you two handsome men; this couch is soooo comfy?"

To Marty's horror, Joan squeezed in between them on the loveseat. For added effect, she threw an arm around each of them and seemed to be genuinely enjoying herself.

"I know I said it already, but I'm gonna say it again – Mister, you got yo'self one fine lookin' lady," Leon drawled without taking his eyes off Joan's chest.

While Leon had emerged as the more personable one, Earl was definitely more intense. He rarely said a word, preferring to communicate mostly via nods and grunts. Marty noticed a trail of drool run down his rat's nest of a beard as he leered down at his wife shapely, stockinged legs.

"Well, let me tell you folks somethin'," Leon intoned, his eyes still glued to Joan's chest. "It's been quite some time since anyone offered me up such hospitality. Ain't that right, Earl, my man?"

"Um-hmm," grunted the bug-eyed troll.

To his dread, Marty found himself aroused. Seeing his wife playacting the part of a boy-toy for vagrants had left him with a large and painful hardon. He didn't know why this excited him, but it did.

"Oh, thank you," purred Joan as she accepted a sip from Leon's glass, "I'm so glad you two are nice and comfy. You see, my husband and I are very charitable people. We like to go that extra mile when helping those less fortunate than ourselves. Isn't that right, dear?"

It took Marty a couple of seconds before he realized, Joan was speaking to him.

"Oh - why yes – that's true. In fact, my lovely wife and I would like to present you two gentlemen with the most generous kind of charity."

The three stunned faces on the couch studied him. Clearly, they wondered what he meant.

Leon broke the silence.

"And what would that be – um that most generous kind of charity – if you don't mind me askin'?"

"Well, my good man. My wife…" He paused, and took a sip of his drink for dramatic effect, "would like to throw you boys a nice fuck."

He had thrown down the gauntlet. The ball was in Joan's court now. He had no intention of stepping in and stopping things - that would have to be her call.

No one was more shocked than Leon and Earl. Their stunned expressions gave way to great big beaming smiles, followed by fits of raucous laughter.

As the two bums at each side of her rejoiced, Joan stared at Marty in disbelief. He returned the stare with a cold look which let her know - you've made your bed, now lie in it. They held each others eyes for what seemed like a long time, before Joan snapped back into slut mode.

"Okay, let's get down to business! Why don't you two big handsome men get naked?"

Both of them immediately jumped to their feet and eagerly started tearing off their filthy duds.

As bad as they looked fully clothed, they were even more repulsive naked. Earl was easily the hairiest man Marty had ever seen. His entire body seemed to be covered in a dense brown fur. Leon was no more appealing. His thin, wiry, frame was decorated by a variety of welts and scars, including what appeared to be three bullet wounds running diagonally across his left lower buttock.

They stood before his wife, with their stiff, rigid pricks bobbing just inches from her face, impatiently waiting for what was next. Marty's cock felt as if it were going to rip through his slacks. Would she really do something like this just to spite me, he wondered.

Joan smiled like a princess, and gracefully rose from the couch. Needing no more encouragement, Earl lunged at her, crudely grabbing at her butt and attempting to plunge his tongue down her throat. Momentarily startled, Joan recovered and to Earl's delight (and Marty's disgust), met his slimy darting tongue with hers.

To Marty, the scene was surreal; it didn't really seem like it was happening. It was as if he was watching a movie.

"Earl, my man, why don't you let the brother have a chance?"

Earl shot Leon a demented look, but then reluctantly withdrew his tongue, and removed his grubby mitts from Joan's ass. Free of the troll's filthy clutches, she turned around and smiled coyly at Leon.

"Brother Leon is a little more gentle-like with the ladies." The stick-thin hoodlum announced as he embraced her. He was gentle at first, but then pulled her close and grinded his cock against her hip.

"Yeah baby - Brother Leon gonna give you what you need!"

"Me first," barked Earl.

"Gentleman, please," Joan announced. "Where are your manners? This is my choice and I think I'd like you both at the same time." She shot an icy stare at Marty.

She took both men by the hand, and led them gingerly to the bedroom. With a mixture of disgust and fascination, Marty followed.

Joan removed her camisole, but left the nylons on.

"How fine them nice white titties are!"

"Why thank you Leon, I'm glad you like them," Joan teased as she positioned herself on all fours atop the bed. A drooling, growling, Earl immediately took up residence behind her, while Leon staked out his turf at the other end and wiggled his long, dark cock in her face.

"Yeah Snow White, you gonna taste some dark meat tonight."

"This pussy is mine," barked Earl, and in one sudden, vulgar instant, the unthinkable had commenced.

Joan let out a sharp squeal as Earl thrust himself into her. Her head jerked back as the hairy beast fixed a vice-like grip around her narrow waist and began pumping away like monkey fucking a football.

"My God, she's really going through with this," Marty muttered under his breath.

As Earl hammered away, Joan opened her eyes and gazed up at Leon, who was licking his lips.

"Yeah – it's feedin' time!"

Leon chuckled sinisterly as Joan clumsily took his thick black cock into her mouth.

Marty was horrified, but couldn't look away. It didn't seem possible that the woman in the middle of this grotesque scene was his wife. There she was; Joan - a virgin when they married, the mother of his two kids, and a respected member of the School Board, being used as nothing more than a receptacle for the filthy, primal needs of two of the lowest members of society.

It didn't take long for Earl to come, a sick piercing shriek came from deep within as he climaxed. As he stumbled back to withdraw, a sticky stream of cum trailed from the end of his prick to Joan's pussy. Having finished his filthy business, his knees buckled and he collapsed on the floor.

Leon, who had been taking his time, couldn't hold out much longer. As Joan's head bobbed and bounced on his long, shiny cock, he got more aggressive.

"YEAH, YOU LIKE IT, DON'T YOU, BITCH – DRINK EVERY DROP, YOU NASTY HO!"

Joan's face twisted into a grimace as Leon grabbed two fistfuls of her hair and pumped her head violently up and down on his cock. She hacked and gagged as he erupted into her. His spunk bubbled up out of her mouth and dribbled sloppily down her chin. As pulled away, streams of cum shot across her face, decorating her cheeks and hair.

"YEAH BITCH – NOW YOU HAPPY!"

Now that it was over with, a numb Marty wanted nothing more than to get those two scumbags out of his life forever.

"Okay, the party is over, guys - time to get your stuff together and go."

They both looked at him, and wordlessly stumbled back into the front room. Marty turned to follow, but turned back for one last look at Joan. He barely recognized the sweaty, cum-covered heap as his wife.

"Joan…are you okay? Honey, are you okay," he asked with the sound of the two bums fumbling around for their clothes in the background.

"Just get those filthy bastards out of here," she spat without looking up at him. Having nothing to contribute, Marty closed the door.

"Hey, are we still gonna get paid," asked Leon as he pulled up his pants.

Marty took out his wallet and handed each a crisp fifty dollar bill.

As he hustled them out, Earl grabbed the bottle of scotch off the coffee table. Marty didn't bother to make a fuss. It was trivial in light of what had just gone on in the back room.

The eight mile journey only took a few minutes, but seemed like an eternity to Marty. He gritted his teeth and listened as they passed the bottle back and forth, and graphically recounted what they had just finished doing to Joan. When he finally got them back to their destination, Leon sarcastically thanked him for the hospitality.

Marty took his time driving back to the cabin He wondered what he was going to say to Joan. He wondered if this might be the end of their marriage.

He parked the car and walked slowly back inside. When he got through the door, Joan was there to greet him. She had put a robe on, and sat on the couch with her arms folded, her lipstick smeared, and dried splotches of Leon's cum still fouling her cheeks and hair.

Having no clue as to what to say to her, he was relieved when she spoke first.

"Tomorrow morning…we'll go back home…to our kids and our comfortable middle-class life in the suburbs." Her voice quivered. "And we'll pretend that none of this ever happened."

"I – I think that's a very good idea," Marty stammered.

"But until then, we still have one more thing to do."

Marty stared at her with a puzzled expression.

"I know you enjoyed this little game. Don't bother lying to me - the bulge in your pants speaks volumes. You stood by and watched as that hairy animal fucked my pussy, and I sucked that hoodlum freak's cock, and now… you've got to finish this!"

"Joan honey, what are you talking about?"

"You've got to fuck my ass, Marty. That's what you want, right? Well, that would complete my night of total degradation, wouldn't it?"

Without waiting for a response, Joan jumped up from the couch, whipped off her robe, spun around and bent over.

"C'mon Marty – I'm ready! I already went to the trouble of lubing myself up while you were driving those pigs back to their dump."

His heart pounded as he stepped forward. He stared down at Joan's tight puckered browneye – wet and shiny from the liberally applied KY Jelly. He undid his belt, his slacks fell to his knees and his throbbing cocked bobbed free.

"C'mon, baby fuck momma's ass," Joan pleaded with an angry edge to her voice.

He felt her tense up as he gently worked his cock into her virgin asshole. She was so tight, and even with all the lubrication, it took him longer than he expected. Eventually, the head of his cock fought its way past the taut muscles of her sphincter.

Joan let out a gulp as Marty plunged deeper. The soft warm interior of her asshole gripped snugly around his cock, and he couldn't help thinking about that night fifteen years ago when he broke her cherry on their wedding night.

From the tension in her body, it was clear that Joan was not enjoying herself. However, Marty worked slowly and gently and it wasn't long before he felt her discomfort melt away.

To his surprise, Joan began bouncing in tandem to his thrusts. She wriggled, squirmed and emitted a shrill, sing-songy moan. She steadied herself on the armrest with one hand and the other disappeared between her thighs.

"OH – YES, BABY – YES –YES – YES – YEEEE –ESSSSSSS," she bellowed.