Son’s best friends turn a MILF into a depraved fucktoy

“If it isn’t obvious, we want to,” he said, anything but smiling.

Oh Lord, this summer was going to kill her.

* * *

“You are not going to masturbate to them,” Emilia told herself in the mirror at every red light. “You are not going to masturbate to them. You are not going to masturbate to them.”

When she got home, her clothes flew off her as she raced to her bedroom. Their bedroom, she reminded herself, glancing at a picture of Jim and blushing. Sure, she’d fantasized about plenty of guys in twenty years of marriage. But none of them had been anything more than a passing fancy. Simon, Milo, and Jaxton? She wanted them in each of her holes, and she wanted it now. If they showed up at her door, she would have let them in and begged for it.

All her resolve fell by the wayside as she jerked open the nightstand’s drawer and pulled out her favorite toy, a six-inch-long clit vibrator, wide on one end, a round point at the other. It had about ten settings ranging from, “Eh, I just need a little massaging and I’ll get there eventually” to “I’m looking for satisfaction right this fucking second.” Emilia turned it on to eight, three past her usual setting. She thought about it, flopped onto the bed, and flicked the vibrator to a full ten. She didn’t want to be teased. All the teasing was done already, out there on the course, by those three boys — men, now, delicious men.

As the vibrator touched her clit, she thought about Milo’s fearlessness in touching her, in clutching her tight.

“Take me Milo,” Emilia whispered, her eyes squeezed shut.

As her legs parted wide, she thought about Jaxton dropping her shorts and holding her in those powerful arms, crushing her to his muscles as he fucked her over and over and over again.

“Mm, Jaxton, fuck me hard,” she cried out.

But most of all, she thought about Simon, and that rock-hard prick of his against her back, the hot breath of his words against her ears. She thought about taking their cocks in her hands, maybe sucking one of them down while she jerked the other two off. In her fantasy, it was Simon who got the blowjob, and Jaxton and Milo in her hands, but oh God, she wanted all of them in every possible way.

“Fuck me Simon,” she gasped, “Oooh, fuck my slutty face.”

They were her son’s best friends.

And Emilia burned for them like she’d never burned for anyone. Not even Jim. Not even her husband.

She came like a geyser, her feet rolling, her knees pumping up at the air as her orgasm rushed through her. Her lips parted in a sharp cry, and Emilia finished, panting for them, gasping for the young men to fill her hands, her mouth, her pussy.

And as she came down, Emilia opened her eyes. A few pictures of her and Jim and Landon hung on the opposite wall, and she blushed as she looked at the younger, happier versions of herself, the ones that weren’t so desperate, so lonely.

* * *

The cheerleading coach knelt on all fours, stuffing her face full of Jaxton’s cock as he idly stroked her head. Ms. Rosie Brook had been Milo’s first conquest when he turned eighteen. On a bet from Simon, he walked right into her office, told her he’d just turned eighteen, and kissed her right there. It was ballsy and should have led to him getting expelled. Instead, ten minutes later, he was deep in her cunt from behind, fucking her bent over her desk as she howled his name.

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