Abby and the After Party

Was I dreaming? It sounded like my mom was moaning down the hall. At first, I thought she was crying, or maybe just whimpering. But then, I noticed it was in time with bed squeaks.

Was she having sex? It sounded like a little more than that.

She was getting fucked - hard. Why was I dreaming about that, of all things? And if I wasn't dreaming, why was I actually hearing it?

No. Not dreaming.

I knew my eyes were open, but the room was pitch black aside from little digital alarm clock that had been on my nightstand since I was thirteen years old... some twenty odd years ago. The numbers were too blurry to see the time. Do I need glasses, now? Shit.

I never went home. I was still at my parent's house.

"Suck that cock, Darcie," my dad said, apparently in their bedroom.

I supposed that meant he wasn't fucking her, and that she was pleasing him orally... unless she was sucking someone else's cock.

I recalled a time - not too long ago - when she told me that being with more than one man at the same time was considered low class. Hmmm.

Her muffled moans were having an effect on me, and I subconsciously reached down between my legs.

How many hours had I spent masturbating in this bed?

I was more than wet. My pussy was quite literally full of come. My butthole didn't sting at all, so I presumed whomever had fucked me hadn't gotten around to doing me up the butt, which was a surprise. I couldn't remember the last time I ever said 'no' to anal sex. Had I said it tonight?

I was still wearing the t-shirt I had on when I showed up several hours ago. My sweatshirt, jeans, and socks were gone, though. I panicked for a moment when the familiar jewelry piercing my nipples and clitoris was gone, but then I remembered I had taken the ensemble out before coming over. I was just coming over to my mom's house for a short visit. They were in my left dresser drawer in my bedroom back home, in a box on top of another box containing several ornate, jeweled metal butt plugs - gifts from Linda from when I started this semi-free-use, slut journey.

I sat up and almost fell back down onto the pillow. I was drunk. Not so drunk that I couldn't remember exactly where I put my special jewelry, and not really "sick drunk" yet, but someone must have seen that coming and stopped me before I got that far.

I brought my fingers to my lips and smelled, then tasted, the come. Familiar. But, I couldn't quite place it.

I sat up with success on my second attempt, and leaned up against the headboard. I pulled my knees up and feet together, before letting my legs open so I could resume fingering myself in time with whomever was having their way with my mom. I presumed it was my dad, but...

"How the hell did I end up here?" I wondered out loud, but not loud enough to be heard by anyone down the hall. "And, why am I so fucking horny?" I whispered as I pressed on my clit.

Wine.

I remembered drinking a lot of wine with my mom as she recounted her sexual adventures from before I was born. Actually, she was having those adventures while she was pregnant with me, though somewhat early in the pregnancy.

Then, after we were both fairly drunk, we compared blowjob techniques on a pair of impressive dildos that she owned.

Wait... what? Did I have that right? That wine was really good, but was it that good?

My mild-mannered, fifty-something mom owned dildos? I'm not usually a lightweight when it comes to drinking, despite my petite size. There must have been something in the wine. Or, was it just me?

I hadn't noticed that my mom's moaning down the hall had stopped until my old bedroom door slowly swung open. Light from the hallway caused something to sparkle on the nightstand, and I could barely make out the Venetian Mardi Gras mask... the one my mom had handed to me right before my dad came home with his rowdy friends.

And, apparently, her friends.

"Had I put that mask on at some point?" I thought to myself. "And, what did I do, then?"

My mind was drawing a complete blank.

If you're new to my stories, here's a little bit about me. If you're not new, you can skip ahead to the paragraph beginning with "The bedroom door closed a few seconds later..."

...

If anyone that knew me years ago was asked to describe me, they would probably say I was small, cute, pretty, but not at all sexy. During high school, while all the other girls grew a few more inches taller and gained some weight by the time they were eighteen, I stopped at 5' 2" and 100 lbs. When the other girls were going up a bra size or two, I stopped at an A+/B- cup, depending on the style of bra or swimsuit. Years later, I filled a B cup bra both times I was pregnant with my two kids, but my boobs went back to their usual small size soon after giving birth. Luckily, I married a "butt and legs" man.

Of course I did.

Being a natural strawberry blonde redhead, I tried not to tan too often as I freckled more than tanned, but a little makeup always smoothed things out. Thanks to my mom's advice of creams and lotions, my stretch marks are barely noticeable. I usually keep my long hair in a braid, but it curls easily when I want it to, which is often.

My eyes aren't just blue, but light blue, and are one of the first things people noticed after getting over how small I am everywhere else.

My round face, small nose, and straight teeth result in what most guys referred to as "pretty" even when I put on a lot of make-up. I even overheard one boy in high school say that he felt sorry for "that pretty little girl trying to look sexy with all that makeup." Years later, Linda helped me skip sexy and go straight to slutty by simplifying the makeup and adjusting my clothing choices - if those choices could even be called clothing. A change in attitude helped, too.

I put on a little weight with the kids, but it mostly went to my hips and butt, resulting in a pleasant pear shape. I've tried everything from Crossfit to yoga while bouncing back, but Pilates and spin classes were the most fun and rewarding. I used to run a little, too, and even finished a few Ragnar relays, but as mom duties became more demanding, the running all but stopped. I kept a membership at the local health club even after getting back in shape, though. Mostly, because it made me feel good being treated as the occasional eye candy, but also because I liked sex with my husband and stamina was important with him. Linda (the office slut) had a lot of stamina, as my husband and countless other men knew.

For a while, it seemed that a pretty face, a flat tummy, a perfectly round (and hard) butt, and perfect legs were all I had going for me. Well, almost all.

For having a smaller mouth, I had gotten really good at blowjobs with some help from Linda (and later from her friend, Jean) thanks to a lot of practice in a short amount of time. I also made Kegel exercises part of my workout routine to the point of having a very tight pussy when I wanted it to be.

I even started to enjoy butt sex once I learned how to adjust my diet, and relax at the beginning, so that was also a plus. It's not like I was an anal virgin. A few years after we were married, I'd regularly let Ron finish in my butt after he made me come, not only to spice things up, but also to cut down on our chances of getting pregnant again. Eventually, I went on the pill.

Linda preferred butt sex, and when my husband, Ron, started having his fun with her on business trips, I guess that's when he also started doing me up the butt more often while he was home. At the time, I never knew. I thought it was just a phase we were going through.

As a result of Ron's idea of making home porn on what ended up being a short-but-frequent basis, we both decided to have our pubic hair removed. It made seeing the important parts easier, I supposed, but Ron really liked going down on me more than ever, and the video booth customers seemed to like it, too. So, we invested in a more permanent solution for me, while Ron was forced to learn the art of manscaping.

Ron was blessed with finding a small wife with a large clit. He had no trouble figuring out where to put his fingers or his tongue during foreplay, and I knew exactly how to position myself on him to come every time we had sex. I had no idea how large my clit swelled compared to other women until Linda went down on me. She told me how lucky I was, and when I eventually went down on her to return the favor, I believed her.

Linda inspired me to have my nipples pierced, too. I thought it might spice things up even further, not that I needed it. I just figured it would take things to a whole new level, unknowingly with a whole new group of... friends. I was right. The piercings were a definite hit with my husband, Ron, Linda's husband, Brian, and Renee's husband, Kevin, and all the guys I've ever interacted with in the adult video booths.

As for my butt hole, I had experimented with small butt plugs in the past, but nothing too serious. Linda helped me get serious. She also recommended that I have my butt hole bleached, even though it was already pretty, pink, and hairless. Eventually I did that, too. Linda was the voice of experience, after all.

Of course, that was all behind Linda, now, pardon the pun. Jean's college son, Michael, lost his regular MILF lay and escort as Linda moved on to a much larger bull to satisfy her needs. Linda's husband either didn't know, or he did a great job of pretending he didn't know someone else was fucking his wife more often than he was.

Ron knew other men were fucking me. I didn't need to hide it.

In fact, I think he was turned on by it - not that he had much of a choice. He cheated on me with Linda and almost lost his job because of it when his jealous boss found out. Thanks to Linda - and Jean's son, Michael - we turned lemons into lemonade by way of an incredible office party. It was certainly one that would be talked about privately for years to come. Most importantly, by the following morning, everyone was able to keep their jobs. We avoided paying divorce lawyers a dime, and everyone seemed to be getting along contently, if not happily ever after.

Ron's co-worker and former butt sex goddess, Linda, was Michael's featured entertainment for dozens of frat parties, and a few other private gatherings. After the office party, she more or less retired from that role - apparently replaced by me to an extent. I don't think that was the plan, not that there ever was a plan. It may have just be a coincidence that several weeks before that party, I started getting a second wind regarding my sexual promiscuity. I never cheated on my husband, and thought my days of looking sexy were not only over, but would never actually manifest. Maybe I was feeling there was a missed opportunity, at some point.

I didn't like her, at first - for obvious reasons - but Linda and I became friendly enough, if not actual friends. Linda slowly opened my eyes to a whole other world. Between Linda and Jean, I learned more about sex than I ever thought possible.

I thought the home-made porn was Ron's way of rekindling my sexually adventurous side. We made a handful of home videos, which he later peddled to not-so-local adult book and video stores. I had to admit that I had fun making them, and was even turned on knowing complete strangers would be masturbating to them. They were well-received, and we were eventually approached to do more and actually get paid for them. We did, and we were paid, but it made me so nervous afterward that I eventually had to stop. Even though Ron had me dress up in different outfits and disguises, my face was still clearly visible in some of them, especially the blowjob scenes.

My parents lived in the same town, my kids were in junior high, and I still had mom duties. I couldn't afford to be found out by the wrong person or people. Calling it risky behavior might have been an understatement.

Then, I had an experience in one of the adult video store booths where Linda secretly introduced me to her bull. I later found out it was all part of Linda and Ron's manipulation of me, to get me to do certain things and act a certain way at the upcoming office party so their jobs would be saved.

That was followed by a few experiences with Ron - and a few without - where I gave live shows to anyone that happened to be trolling the gloryhole-equipped video booths at the time.

From there, I took things up a notch at an office party while saving Ron's job. Who am I kidding? I took it all the way up the ladder. Linda and Ron's mind games worked - maybe too well.

After that, Michael approached me and asked if I wanted to take over for Linda.

I wanted to.

At least I thought I did. I didn't actually know how many men Linda was capable of "entertaining" at the same time, or if I would be expected to do the same. The thought intrigued me, though. Ron cheating on me was my "no expiration date" Hall Pass, and I intended to use it. I was drunk off the attention I had been getting, and as long as nobody was getting hurt, I wanted to keep it going.

Michael started me off with a group of men that frequented a former VFW Hall turned into a low-volume bar. At first it was just Mort, Cecil, Jerry, and Little John; men in their fifties with surprising libido. They all figured out I wasn't a college student rather quickly, even though that's what Michael told me to pretend to be. Leave it to Michael to come up with the idea of a college girl trying to look older so she can get into bars. The bar patrons presumed I was either an up-and-coming prostitute or just a slut gone wild, but guaranteed disease-free by Michael so they could fuck me without condoms. Michael stressed that he needed to protect his talent, too, and needed all of them to have a clean bill of health from their doctors before being "entertained" which they complied with happily. Michael went so far as to hand me money in front of them, after I had told them I wasn't a whore. He confused everyone... even me.

Even after they learned I was just some random wife and mother that was getting even with her cheating husband, they wanted me back for more.

So, I gave them more.

I visited the former VFW bar a few more times over the next two months, and I think I had more fun "entertaining" these men than most women would ever know. The group knew Mort was my favorite - I couldn't hide it - but I gave them all plenty of attention. Linda and Jean would have been proud of their protege. I had established my "regulars" and Michael seemed content with only having me entertain this small group of men, and no others. No frat parties. No bachelor parties. Just the bar.

No fights. No diseases. No pregnancies, yet.

My husband would cover for my once-a-week absence by saying I was helping a friend with this or that, which was not too far away, but far enough that I would probably just spend the night. Mommy would be home tomorrow morning.

And usually, I was.

Sometimes early, sometimes late, but I was the hero for helping somebody with something. When mommy could barely walk and slept until late in the afternoon, it was because she was just tired.

And usually, I was.

Ron knew that whatever I told him about the night before was going to turn him on, and I would let him take out all of his sexual frustrations on me in whatever way he desired. He just needed to let me recover for a day or two, first.

My gynecologist kept refilling my birth control pill prescription, and she didn't dig when I asked for the occasional STD test. She had been examining me for years, and she must have known my pussy and ass weren't suddenly getting stretched by Ron. My husband is blessed, but not like his boss or Little John. When I asked about getting my tubes tied, she recommended sticking to the pill because in a few years, I wouldn't have to worry about getting pregnant.

So, I did.

On the nights that I was supposed to "entertain," Michael would show up at one of the adult book and video stores and leave an outfit for me behind the counter. I'd change into the outfit in a video booth, and give the locals a little show through the gloryholes as a thank you to the store owner.

Michael liked to surprise me with the outfits he picked. The brown paper bag he left behind the adult book store counter had everything I was supposed to wear while entertaining, and nothing more. I was supposed to put everything I wasn't going to wear or hold onto back into the paper bag. My keys, cellphone, drivers license, credit card... and wedding ring went into a little pocket purse which then went into a pocket of whatever clothes I left the house wearing, and then I'd put it all in the bag, leaving it behind the counter for Michael to pick up later.

I'd walk out in my outfit, get in Michael's car, and be driven to the bar. Michael would drop me off and pick me up at some point that night or early morning. He'd take me back to my minivan, hand me my bag of clothes, jewelry, keys, and phone, and I'd drive home. I'd text Ron if he was home with the kids and let him know whether or not I was presentable, and if not, he would distract the kids while I made my way to the shower.

For two months, it worked.

Then, Little John started inviting a few more of his friends to our little parties, sometimes without Michael's knowing.

Eventually, things got out of hand when one of the patrons had a heart attack while fucking me. He survived, thankfully, but that made me reconsider my life choices up to that point, and I ended up taking a break from the bar.

But, not from Mort.

Mort took me on a little vacation near Cancun that was hard to cover for, but for whatever reason, I managed to get away with it. Sure, I had a tan with no tanlines in the middle of winter after "visiting a friend in the Midwest U.S." during a snowstorm, but that's because of the sun reflecting off the snow. Right? The kids didn't care. They thought it was a spray-on tan that I was trying. Ron liked the video that Mort had made of our escapades so much, that it became our regular masturbation material.

My mom had her suspicions, though.

It was after returning from this trip that my mom decided to confide in me, and tell me about her own escapades while she was recently pregnant with me. Her stories were fantastic in every sense, and if it were anyone else telling them, I wouldn't have thought twice about putting my hand down my pants, or fucking myself with one of her dildos. The wine made it difficult to control myself, but somehow I managed. Or, so I thought.

...

The bedroom door closed a few seconds later, and it was fairly obvious I was no longer alone.

Far from it, actually. A few naked men I recognized, and a few I didn't. I counted five of them, plus my mom and dad. Completely naked. Some big. Some not-so-big. Some hairy, some manscaped, and some completely shaved, but all reasonably attractive in their own way. I always thought my husband, Ron, was blessed, but after looking at the men in the room with various sizes and degrees of erections, Ron's manhood might actually have been considered average.

I tried not to stare as my mom put one arm around my dad's waist, and then reached down with her free hand to stroke his growing member. Had I ever imagined what his thing looked like?

I didn't think so. Now that I was actually seeing it, it was bigger than I expected.

I remembered my mom saying that they stumbled upon the porn I made with Ron, and that it worked as a great motivator for their sex life. Hopefully, they just wanted to watch me put on a show, now, too. I really hoped that's all they wanted. I could do that, I supposed. They already knew what a slut I'd become. There was no putting the genie back in the bottle, now.

I recognized Cecil's average-sized dick and trimmed, white pubic hair as he knelt on the bed next to me. He was a regular at the bar, and the mildest-mannered in the bunch. Always polite, always gentle, and always produced bizarrely tasty ejaculate. I looked at him and smiled as I took him in my mouth. As always, his pre-come tasted delicious, but his shaft tasted different. Someone else moved onto the bed behind me, and snaked a hand between my legs, before finally pushing a few fingers in my pussy.