The Family Holiday

The stimulus was perhaps more psychological than physical, but the orgasm so generated was immediate, powerful and equally real; this was indeed a night - or least an afternoon - to remember and the raucous noise around me suggested that it was far from over, with double-penetrations likely to become my default setting. Harry's cock was still deep in my mouth when Ben eventually climaxed, he'd played by the rules and unloaded across my back and when an instant later I felt the discharge being finger-wiped away -- but whose fingers? -, I thrilled in the knowledge that it too would soon be making its way to my hungry mouth.

Ben's attentions had been beautiful, he'd made love rather than simply fucked me and I felt slightly guilty that Harry's intrusion had somewhat distracted me from it; I'd been fucked by my first black guy and it hadn't been the epicentre of my attention, for fuck sake Joanne, what's become of you! I took a few moments away from Harry's prick to look back over my shoulder, catch Ben's eye and mouth a heartfelt 'thank you' in his direction; then silently promised both myself and he, that we'd do that again.

As I returned my attention to Harry's still rampant cock a couple of other pricks were pressed toward my mouth, I ignored them both, though I did pause momentarily to devour Ben's seed; proffered on Red's large hand and gifted along with a mouthed word of his own: 'Sorry'. Harry's dick was back between my lips when I felt the bed rocking once more, that had to be Paul; I was about to get fucked from both ends once again, only this time it'd be two brothers sharing me. Wow, yet another first for the memory banks!

Paul penetrated easily, like Ben, he was well endowed, but no Horse-cock-Harry and by this time I'd gone beyond wet, I could feel juices dribbling down my inner thighs. Paul and Harry settled into a complementary rhythm and a very enjoyable one it proved to be, with Paul's fingers dancing across my clit and someone else's -- not Harry -- teasing at my breasts and nipples. I was loving it until the moment Paul's hand transferred to my bum; the sharp slaps he delivered were quite sexy, but he then pushed a finger into my bum, right inside it, he actually penetrated my anal ring!

That's always been a big No-No for me, too dirty to even contemplate. Max did it once soon after we were married, he'd wanted to push his cock in there too; I gave him short shrift about that and he'd never suggested it since. Paul would've received similar, had I not discovered that rebuking someone while you've got a cock in your mouth's not easy, especially as Harry chose that moment -- by accident or design? - to grab me by the hair and press his cock even further into my throat. I resisted of course, but those hands that'd been so gently caressing my boobs, arms and thighs now gripped me tightly; in that moment I heard Paul's growl: "Hurry up and pass me the lube."

I realised that what was about to happen was coming as a surprise to nobody but myself. Struggling proved futile, there was the sensation of cool-oiliness around and within my tight rose-bud, a blunt pressure from the touch of something far larger than any finger and finally a sharp pain as the head of Paul's cock burst through that muscular star. My screams of torment was again muted by Harry's cock, but even without that intrusion I doubt they would've been heard above the cacophony of ribald cheers of encouragement which acknowledged Paul's heinous violation.

Perhaps worse -- if that were possible? - was having this most shameful virginities stolen by a nineteen year old boy rather than surrendering it to my husband of more than twenty years, while the foul-mouthed debate still raging around me, affirmed that four more cocks would be sharing in the sordid prize before Mike might ever get his opportunity.

One small-mercy was that beyond Paul's initial breach it proved less painful than I'd feared; certainly there was a stretching, a burning-tingle, I felt hot and broke out in perspiration, but I never feared that I might burst open under this perverse intrusion. Paul took things steadily, whispered reassurances in my ear and there appeared to be no shortage of lubricant available to ease the way, my musculature slowly acquiesced before his invasion, so by the time I felt Paul's balls gently slap against my vulva and confirm his full accommodation, I was acceptant of the violation.

The sound level had dropped as the others simply watched Paul's penetration, they weren't restraining me for long either, their hands returning to again toy with my breasts and pussy -- there were two men fingering my snatch at once, how louche was that! - while Harry's grip eased in my hair and he too stroked once more between my lips. 'Acceptant'! Who the Hell am I trying to kid? I was rolling my hips and pressing back on Paul's invading cock long before it bottomed-out, moaning encouragement around Harry's prick and doing all that I could to get him in there harder, faster and deeper.

In just a few minutes those lads had transformed this conservative and unwilling mother into the consummate anal-whore, I was loving it! My next orgasm -- the first via my bum! - had torn through me long before Paul reached his climax; heck I was well on my way to the second one when I sensed he was close; pulling my mouth from Harry's cock I turned toward Paul and called: "Don't pull it out, come inside me..." then with a smile, added: "...it'll make it easier for the rest."

That set an argument going; one which I promptly quelled, pointing in turn toward Tim, Red and Ben, as I instructed: "You, you and then you, no arguments..." before turning back toward Harry and gently whispering: "Sorry love, but you'll have to go last..." and with a nod toward his pulsing organ "and please...go gently, even then."

"Harry's cock was re-entering to my mouth as he replied "Don't worry Joanne, I don't think it'll be any problem for me to wait a while for your bum." I was still puzzling over that enigmatic response when the first discharge of Paul's spunk flooded my bowels, but all became clear when Harry followed suit, flooding my mouth only a moment later. When a third load -- whose? - began splashing onto the small of my back it tipped my own orgasm over its peak and left me gasping in its wake; a trembling and come-drenched mess, what a squalid sight I must've looked.

That was far from the end of the encounter, but it did see the end of any rectitude on my part and why the hell not? Any vestige of respectability and decorum had now been surrendered; Mrs. Townsend, the strait-laced and reluctant wife & mother had left the building, only Joanne the debauched MILF remained and she was game for anything!

The boys all left together and in some haste - one of them had spotted the 'golf-bus' pulling into the hotel forecourt - but that was hours later and by then they'd all taken a turn in my ravaged arse and indeed everywhere else. I doubt there'd been a moment during that long afternoon when a cock wasn't penetrating me somewhere, more-often it was two and there were times when all three of my openings were occupied; I recall the lads referred to that as having me 'air-tight' a state of affairs which invariably garnered another cheer. Few of them came in either my bum or my pussy; whether from concern about leaving 'traction' for those who followed, or because they enjoyed seeing me swallow their seed -- either directly, or scraped/licked-up from my body - I'll let you decide for yourselves.

When Mike walked through the door I'd barely found time to pull the covers over my bed and leap into the shower, where rather than recalling memories of the afternoon's delights to mind, I was more prosaically contemplating how I spent the night in Mike's bed -- mine by now being rancid! - without having to have sex with him; over and above my being sore, I was concerned that my body might display too much evidence of the workout it'd just endured.

When our family sat down to dinner that evening we were a visibly discomfited group, my sons could barely meet my gaze and of more concern, Mike too seemed to have something on his mind; had he discovered, or at least suspected what I'd been up to? When Gillian and her family walked through the restaurant, it appeared things were perhaps similar with them too. Harry and Paul looked in the opposite direction when they stopped for their usual chat on the way past and a glance to my left confirmed that Max & Toby were similarly reluctant to look in Gillian's direction; all four boys instead showed unusual interest in their fathers' conversation.

This at least allowed Gill and I some freedom to communicate between ourselves: A pointed glance toward Max & Toby, then eye to eye with Gillian and one brow questioningly raised. Gill's response was to lick around her lips, deliver a cat that got the cream smile and a single nod of her head. Flashing her eyes toward her own sons and raising a similarly questioning brow, I responded with the no doubt anticipated smile and a discrete nod of my own; those burning questions now answered, we would cover the details at our leisure and somewhere more discrete.

Dinner was all but over before I discovered what was bothering Mike: He came out with it by a convoluted route, but the bottom line was that he, Phil and a couple of their other pals wanted to play a final round of golf tomorrow morning. As we'd already agreed to spend that morning shopping, Mike anticipated an argument. After telling Mike in no uncertain terms that I wasn't going to do the shopping on my own, I blithely concluded by suggesting that if he were happy to settle for whatever the airport's shops could offer in the way of gifts and souvenirs, then in expectation of a long night's travelling, I would be more than content to spend a quiet morning in my bed whilst he played golf.

Mike was like a dog with two tails and within thirty seconds had gone, off to spread the word amongst his cronies. I'd been watching Max & Toby from the corner of my eye and their faces too were a picture as they exchanged furtive glances before making their own excuses and departing with similar alacrity. I wasn't alone for very long, Gillian joined me within a couple of minutes and even as she sat down I wryly enquired as to what she might have planned for the morrow?

Gill's delivered a heart-rending tale of her hopes and desires being cruelly crushed by my selfishly granting a golf-pass to Mike which obliged her to in turn offer similar to Phil, thereby leaving her with no option beyond spending a lonely morning alone in her bed; we were both creased-over with laughter long before Gillian had reached its conclusion, in fact I'm not sure if it ever was reached.