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Katherine stumbled out onto the uneven back stoop, audibly groaning under the weight of the heavy-duty trash bag. It was full of crumbled plaster and strips of wooden lathe and swung ponderously, threatening to pull her over with each uncertain step. As her foot slipped on the sloping stone slab she overcompensated and was forced to let the bag drop with a heavy crunch. Catching herself with a sideways grab at the door frame, she slammed backwards into the peeling paint of the old wood siding.

When she looked over to her left she saw the two college boys next door watching her with bemused faces.

“What the hell have I gotten myself into,” she said over the fence with a degree of humor she wasn’t actually feeling. She knew if she let herself acknowledge her discouragement she’d just start crying again.

“Spring cleaning day?” asked cute blond one with a smile. His firm jaw was covered with peach-fuzz stubble and tilted slightly as he flashed a half-smile.

There was a time when Katherine would have died rather than let a boy like that see her as she was now; her body hidden under baggy, faded red sweats; her light brown hair bunched up under an old baseball cap; her face without makeup and her body covered from head to toe in plaster dust. But the circumstances of her recent divorce had left a scar on her self confidence and she had no illusions that some hot young stud like that had any interest in a thirty four year old package of damaged goods like her. Not that she wouldn’t jump at the chance, the kid was fine.

“Every year I tell myself I’m going to dust more frequently, then I find myself like this,” she quipped as he batted the plaster dust from her arms and torso; raising a cloud that drifted away in the afternoon sun.

“Yeah, put off your work all year and you find yourself struggling to catch up at the last minute,” said the other boy, arching an eyebrow up into his dark bangs and raising the textbook he was reading.

“Finals, huh?”

“Yeah,” they replied together.

“I don’t miss those days. Maybe the partying, but not the coursework,” she said.

She cringed inwardly at her lie. She had been a very late bloomer. The truth was that she was a dork in college who lived off campus with her aunt. In those days she was a scrawny poetry nerd and a frumpy dresser. She had never gotten invited to any good parties. She wondered why she was casually falsifying her history to these kids.

“Yeah partying is great until you find yourself trying to learn statistics in an afternoon,” said the dark haired one, reaching up to brush his shaggy mop out of his eyes.

“I don’t envy you guys,” replied Katherine. She pushed herself off the wall and positioned her feet on either side of the bag of debris, bracing herself to lift it again. “But then, I’m not envying myself either.”

“How’s it coming in there?” asked the blond one before she had a chance to grab the bag and break off the conversation. He had ambled over to the old chain-link fence and was leaning on it. His sinewy arms stretched out from his sleeveless “Rutgers Lacrosse” tee-shirt.

“Slowly. It’s going too damn slowly. I’m starting to think it might have been a mistake to kick out my ex-husband just because he was diddling the sophomores,” said Katherine, trying to be funny, but instantly regretting it.

She saw the dark haired kid look away in sudden embarrassment for her. That made it worse. The blond asked guilelessly, “You were married to Dr. Morris?”

“Yes,” she sighed.

Katherine could feel herself blushing. She was annoyed for still feeling uncomfortable about her breakup with Jack. It wasn’t her fault that her husband couldn’t keep his dick out of the student body. She had done everything she could to keep him at home. She had gone to the gym five times a week; had started to dress a little sexier; had let Jack experiment with sticking his prick in her “alternate orifices” as he so romantically put it. But just because she drew the line at letting some slut in the bed with them, he was suddenly accusing her of “becoming an old prude”. Then one day her doctor told her she had mysteriously contracted the clap and the whole thing just fell apart.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if there hadn’t been a public scandal with articles in the school and local papers and a couple of stories on the TV news. So, of course these kids knew about it; this had all happened only a semester ago. It would take a few years before this cohort got flushed out of the university system and her wrecked personal life could be considered ancient history.

“My ex-girlfriend was one of the girls he…”

“Jesus Eric, get a fucking clue. She doesn’t want to talk about this,” said the dark haired boy.

Eric blushed at his faux pas and mumbled out an apology. Katherine could feel her eyes go red and a tear leak out to wash a path through the white dust on her face. Using every scrap of her self control she willed herself not to break down crying. A few more tears escaped her, but she avoided a blubbering scene.

“I better get back to work,” she choked out and reached down to grab hold of the bag at her feet.

“You need some help with that? You’re just taking that bag around to the dumpster in front, right?” asked the blond kid, Eric. He seemed eager to wash away his awkward slip with honest labor.

“No, you have studying to do,” Katherine demurred. She didn’t feel like accepting help from any man right now. Once again, Jack’s sins were infecting the whole opposite sex in her eyes. “I can take care of this myself.”

“How many of those bags you have in there?” asked the kid with the mop of black hair. He had got up from the table and was moving to join Eric at the fence. He was about five foot nine, maybe half a foot shorter than Eric, but built thicker; well muscled with a wide chest and shoulders that strained at the fabric of his old “Pixies” tee-shirt.

“I dunno, maybe a dozen more,” she said, letting herself be convinced.

The two boys looked at each other and shrugged a no-big-deal shrug. “We can clear that stuff out for you, no prob,” said Pixies shirt guy.

“We could use a study break. Be easier than a trip to the gym,” said Eric.

Katherine considered it. Lifting one of these bags would be pretty easy for the beefy Pixies fan and, although Eric wasn’t bulky like his friend, he seemed lithe and fit.

“At least let me pay you for your time.”

“How about you pick us up a twelve pack of Heineken next time you’re out?” said Eric.

Katherine looked the boys over through narrowed eyes, “Hmmmm, are you boys legal?”

“We’re legal for most things,” answered Eric with a big wolfy smile.

Pixies Fan punched Eric in the arm, “Don’t be such a douche, dude.”

“Fuck Matt, that hurt.”

Katherine took mental note that Pixies Fan was named Matt. “OK, I’ll get you your beer, but only this once. I don’t want to end up being your go-to for under aged party planning.”

“That’s cool,” said Matt.

“Alright, let’s get this done,” said Eric, and from a standing position leapt over the fence in a bound. Matt swung over after Eric, vaulting the sagging, swaying metal bar with surprising grace for a kid of his bulk.

They walked up to her. Katherine, at five foot four, felt a primal thrill as the two strong boys loomed up over her, confronting her with a wall of young muscle that could, if they wanted, sweep her away with the least bit of effort. She could smell their shampoo and the peculiar musky smell young men give off when they don’t cover it up in cologne or scented deodorant. She found herself seized by a brief fantasy of the two boys grabbing her roughly, right there in her weedy, muddy back yard and ravishing her willing body; taking her over and over again with the tirelessness of boys barely turned men.

It had been too long since she had last gotten laid, she told herself. She needed to get a hold of her libido.

“I’m Katherine by the way,” she said, extending her had to Eric.


“I’m Matt. Pleased to meet you.”

“I guess I’ll show you where the rest of the bags are,” said Katherine. “Please excuse the mess, I only started working on it again yesterday morning.”

Katherine had given up on the house shortly after the divorce and had been living in Brooklyn with Neal, her old high school friend. However, ever since Neal had found Caesar, his new Puerto Rican boy-toy, she had felt like a third wheel around there. She hated to admit that she was jealous of Neal’s happiness, but lately she found the relationships of others to be intolerable. Besides, she was horny as hell and laying awake all night listing to their epic love-making sessions didn’t help. When she had admitted as much to Neal he asked her if she wanted to join in. But after all these years as friends, it would have been just too weird to go down that road. Besides, she didn’t find twinks very sexually appealing and no one would ever call those two anything approximating butch. Neal seemed relieved when she turned him down.

She finally decided to get back to the decrepit old four-square style house in the student slums around Rutgers University that she and Jack had bought as a fix-up project the previous summer. She worked just across campus at the Johnson & Johnson headquarters and it was stupid to continue to commute to and from Brooklyn and central Jersey every day. This was especially true after she got her promotion and the longer hours made the lengthy round trip especially dreary. She decided it was time to have another try at fixing up this place.

Now with two weeks of personal leave stretching ahead of her she was determined to make some serious progress on this one hundred year old fire hazard. And things were already looking promising, she thought, as she escorted Eric and Matt into the dim and dusty first floor.

“Watch your step. This level hasn’t been rewired yet. There’s no lights and not a whole lot of sun gets in with the windows boarded up. Oh, and don’t go up front. Most the floorboards are missing up there.”

“No offense, but this place is in worse place that I thought,” said Eric as they marched in single file up the groaning, creaking stairs.

Behind her, Katherine heard Matt slap Eric. She smiled to herself at the thought of Matt trying to protect her feelings from the frequently clueless Eric. She said, “Yeah it’s a disaster alright.”

Things were a little less grim on the second floor. At least the dusty windows let in the afternoon sunlight. But aside from the bathroom, which she and Jack had fixed up and got working last summer, this level was a disaster as well. The front half was gutted and floorboards were missing from the east room, leaving a two story fall to the basement if one happened to come stumbling in blindly. Her project yesterday and this morning had been to strip the last of the plaster and lathe from the back rooms and shovel it into a pyramid of yellow, construction grade trash bags which sat waiting to be carried to the dumpster.

“Where do you live?” asked Eric incredulously.

“When we got started on this place we fixed up the big attic room into a little apartment to serve as our command center while we worked on the rest of the house. It’s actually kind of nice up there.”

Matt had been drifting around the floor, inspecting the situation. “Have you thought of bringing the bags to the front of the house and just chucking them into the dumpster from the roof of the porch?”

“I wouldn’t trust that porch if I were you,” she answered, all too truthfully.

Eric lifted his first bag with ease. “Let’s get’er done,” he said and started down the stairs. Half way down he turned and yelled back up at Matt, in a southern drawl, “Get ‘er done!”

Matt looked at Katherine and rolled his eyes. He turned around and lifted two bags at once. Katherine watched as his back and ass rippled with the effort. She went instantly wet. God, she was horny.

There were sixteen bags, not a dozen as she had estimated, but it only took the boys twenty minutes to cart the whole load to the dumpster out front. When they saw Katherine struggling down the stairs with a bag they insisted she stop and let them do it. She gladly complied, choosing watch from the bottom of the stairs as their young flesh paraded by.

“Anything else you need?” asked Matt when they had finished. She wished she was the kind of woman who could have peeled off her clothes and commanded them to take her here, take her now; but she was definitely not. Besides she hadn’t bathed since the previous morning and she felt dusty and gross. Instead, she bid them a good afternoon, promised to bring them their Heineken and watched as they hopped the fence back over to their rented one story house like kids playing at being super heroes.

Katherine had budgeted the rest of the day for cleaning up her mess and the boys had left her with an unexpected surplus of time. However, she felt surprisingly depressed and pent up. She could understand now how middle-aged men felt when they ogled teenage girls in tight dresses. It was as if she longed for a meal of ripe fruit that she had barely enjoyed when it was in season. And now the time had passed and she could only lick her lips thinking about a flavor she barely remembered.

As she leaned over the tub to turn on the faucet, more dust and bits of plaster debris rained from her hair and clothes onto the worn enamel. She realized that a bath in her present state would be more of a marinade in grit than a cleaning. She decided she needed to move the installation of a working shower further up in her construction schedule. But for now, she had an idea.

Ten minutes later she was standing on the front porch of the house next door; still filthy, with a bundle under her arm.

Eric answered the door. “Yo, Kathy, what’s up?” he said. Katherine smiled. She hated being called Kathy but she liked hearing Eric say it.

“I was going to ask you guys for one last favor,” she said, giving him a clenched tooth smile as she shrugged her head down into her shoulders. These kids made her feel like her old nerdy self and she uncontrollably drifting back into her dorky mannerisms.


“Can I use your shower? I only have a bathtub and…” she waved a hand down her body, indicating her gritty condition.

“Yeah, sure, um, come on in,” he said and stepped back to let her pass. “Our place is a little messy right now.”

“That’s OK. I’ll really appreciate the shower. I’ll clean it out and everything when I’m done.”

“Oh, well, it ain’t too clean now so don’t knock yourself out trying to separate your dirt from ours.”

Katherine laughed. She heard Matt’s voice yell from the back of the house, “Who’s at the door?”

“Kathy from next door, she wants to use our shower,” Eric yelled back. He looked back at Katherine and waved for her to follow him as he started walking towards the hall, “It’s back here.”

Katherine swept the place with her eyes as she moved through the living room. The place was definitely a couple of college dude’s rental house; carpet worn down the weave; badly patched drywall; grimy smears around the light switches; a pyramid made of beer cans; a T.V. and an Xbox surrounded by several discs and plastic cases; dirty dishes, sports equipment and miscellaneous trash scattered everywhere. She purposely didn’t peek into the kitchen as they passed it. She didn’t want to know what horrors it had to show.

Down the hall, Matt stepped out of the bedroom. He was wearing red sweatpants and a weight belt that pulled the sweatpants up to perfectly display the contours of his healthy package. His hairy chest was bare and it glistened lightly with a layer of sweat. A generic tribal tattoo circled his upper arm.

“Let me clean up a little before you use our…” began Matt.

Katherine held up a hand to stop him. “Don’t fret. You’ve seen my place. I won’t pass judgment on yours. I just want to rinse my walls out of my hair,” she said as she got to the bathroom door before him.

Matt opened his mouth to say something but he stalled on whatever he was trying to express. Katherine just chirped, “Thanks guys,” and disappeared into the bathroom.

Yes, the bathroom was filthy; grime, mold, beard and pubic hairs everywhere. But she saw in an instant what Matt had wanted to “clean up” before she entered. On the tank of the toilet was a stack of old Playboy and Penthouse magazines, pages creased and smeared at the edges from frequent perusal.

Katherine gingerly sat her bundle of clean clothes on the countertop in the least filthy looking spot and walked over to the shower. Pulling back the curtain she could see the tub was a masterpiece in grime. She used a square of toilet paper to swab the hair from the drain and turned on the water. While sitting on the toilet and fiddling with the spigots to get the temperature of the water just right, her eyes kept roving over to the stack of magazines just to the right of her shoulder. She noticed that the second one down was opened to a pictorial and folded back on itself. The edge of the magazine peaked out from under the Playboy lying atop it and she could see hints of limbs, male and female.

After deciding the temperature was good enough, she flipped the toggle to direct the water to the showerhead and stood up to start undressing. Looking at the magazines again, curiosity got the better of her and she slid the open one out from under the Playboy to take a peek. It was a Penthouse and the pictorial was of a woman; thin, blond, with giant tits, big hair and lots of makeup; but no clothes or pubic hair. She was with two well muscled, big cocked men. The photos were very deliberately just short of hard core. They grabbed at the blond’s tits and ass as she held cocks fractions of an inch from her open mouth and positioned their units next to her vagina and ass as if seconds from being penetrated. Her expression seemed to cycle randomly between surprised, disgusted, angry and hungry on six glossy pages of almost-sex.

It was all very stupid but for some reason she found herself very aroused. Which one of the boys had been looking at this fantasy of double-male manage a trois? And When?

Katherine reminded herself she was here to wash off, not discover the charms of soft-core pornography. She reached for the lock on the door, but let her hand drop, leaving it unlocked. She stripped off her dusty clothes, jamming them in the trash bag she had brought with her; all while watching the old glass doorknob; wanting it to start turning and the door to burst open.

She climbed into the shower, sticking her head under the flow of warm water, enjoying the feeling of the dirt being washed away. The burble of the water played tricks with her hearing. Did she hear the door open? Was that a footstep outside the shower curtain? Would the curtain pull back in a few seconds and strong hands reach in to caress her body? She fantasized about the boys stepping in with her, sandwiching her between them, their hard bodies rubbing against hers as they seized her, took her. Lips and tongues on private places. Wet friction as bodies discovered body. Her swollen pearl atop her damp cleft discovered. Fingers rubbing. Her breasts sliding along warm, firm flesh. Rubbing faster. Oh Matt. Oh Eric. Faster. Yes. Ohhhhhh.

Katherine felt a wave of shame at having just masturbated in her neighbor’s shower. The hot water was running out already and sheepishly she reached down to turn it off.

She stepped out of the shower and stood in front of the foggy mirror. On the counter top the magazine still sat open. She looked the girl over. Was that what men really wanted? Huge tits, no ass? She wiped her towel down over the surface of the glass and regarded herself critically through her blue-gray eyes.

She wasn’t bad looking. She had kept visiting the gym after the breakup. Her boobs were only b-cups, nothing close to magazine bimbo’s quadruple Qs (or whatever the hell they were), but they were still firm and well shaped. They seemed like good boobs to her. Her body had filled out since she was a nerdy young woman, but she wasn’t fat by any means. Her hips were a little wider and her breasts fuller. She thought it made her look sexier, softer, more womanly.

So why hadn’t the boys snuck in the bathroom to surprise her?

Katherine toweled off her hair and started pulling on her clothes. She had brought her cutoffs she had made from some old pink sweatpants, the ones she had cut off a little too high so that she felt uncomfortable wearing them outside. She also had a pair of tiny pink panties with little angles on them and her favorite old tee-shirt; the tight, white London Underground shirt with the subway map printed on it.

As she pulled the shirt on she realized that she’d forgotten to bring a bra and the thin fabric of the old shirt clearly showed every pore of her damp skin and darker pink hue of her stubbornly erect nipples. As she prepared to step out of the bathroom she clutched the trash bag full of dirty clothes to her chest. Reconsidering, she let it fall to her side, exposing her body through the damp, thin material.

Her body tingling, she stepped out into the cooler air of the hallway and felt her nipples constrict further. She felt so exposed, as good as naked in the skimpy shorts and see through top. As she walked down the hall in what seemed like slow motion, she saw the boys bent over their books at the coffee table in the front room. In a quivering voice that didn’t seem like her own she said, “Thanks for the shower.”

The guys looked up and their jaws dropped open as their gaze gravitated to her chest. She stood, breathing shallowly as seconds ticked by. Eric turned his head ever so slightly to arch a questioning brow at Matt. Matt just kept looking at her. He said quietly, “Sure, um, anytime.”

Suddenly the guys eyes dropped, embarrassed to be so obviously ogling their neighbor’s tits. Katherine felt even more exposed now that they were self consciously not looking at her and she brought the trash bag back up to her chest involuntarily.

“Thanksagainbye,” she said quickly and was gone.

Back in her attic apartment atop her gutted old house, Katherine felt physically exhausted after the day’s work as well as sick with embarrassment at her behavior. Restless and agitated, she tried reading a book to calm her nerves, but she kept scanning the same paragraph over and over, not comprehending the words. She finally let herself think of her actions back at the boy’s house. Perhaps she was blowing it out of proportion. Maybe she didn’t seem as desperate as she thought. But when she suddenly remembered that she had left the Penthouse magazine spread out on the boy’s bathroom counter, opened to the male-male-female pictorial, she felt a hollow pit form in her stomach. They’d know she had stood in their filthy bathroom, fantasizing about getting double fucked by two young studs. They’d surely figure out why her shower had taken so long and what she’d been hoping for when she walked out in a wet see-through tee-shirt.

Groaning in shame, she crawled into bed and curled up under the blankets; giving up on the rest of the day. It was only six in the evening.

She slept. While she slept she had The Dream. She’d had it many times before. It started showing up in her sleep as her marriage to Jack began to grow stale. It could start in any number of ways, but the point of The Dream was that it always ended the same.

This time it started with Katherine working on the house, tearing plaster and lathe off the walls with the hook end of a crow bar. For what seemed like hours she kept at it, reliving the day’s drudgery in her sleep. Then she was still working on the house, but the house was a log cabin on a dusty plain. She was outside in the sun, hewing long pine logs with a heavy adze. She wore a thin, white cotton dress that fell to the tops of her cowboy boots, but swooped down the slopes of her breasts to just above her nipples in front. The work was hot and her sweat soaked into the dress, causing it to cling to her body.

Now The Dream fell into its usual groove as cowboys began to show up. They stood at a distance and watched her work. She wished they would help, but she wasn’t going to beg for their assistance. She was struggling with one of the roughly hewn logs, trying to lift it up over her head and set it in place, but it was too much for her to do alone. The cowboys started laughing at her as she continued to struggle with the huge heavy log. The harder she grunted and strained, the more they pointed and laughed. She knew she was failing and she felt ashamed.

Then, as usual, the Indians showed up. Wild red men swooped out of the dusty plain causing the cowboys to break and run around her, screaming like idiots. Arrows started flying and cowboys started falling around her in piles, dead with arrows in their heads, necks, chests; everywhere. Katherine began laughing at them as they died with cowardly looks of terror etched into their ugly faces. Heedless of the danger, she got grim satisfaction watching the cruel cowboys die all around her in wild panic as she stood calmly and waited for her fate with serene grace.

Then the cowboys were all dead and the Indians charged at her. But she was not afraid. She was scooped up and she found herself on the back of a barebacked palomino, riding through the plains and desert, up into the red sandstone hills. She clung to the brave in front of her, grasping the firm muscles of his chest, feeling safe on the speeding horse as she pressed her body into his back.

Then they were in a quiet glade by a bubbling stream. Dogwoods shimmered and cattails rustled in the mountain breeze as she and the brave trotted into the grassy spot along the brook on the panting horse. A firm hand seized her and she was thrown down onto the grass. Her clothes were ripped from her body in a quick yank and she tumbled over onto her back, naked and panting in the dappled shade. Above her stood two Indian braves (usually it was a single brave, but this time The Dream had two) a tall thin one and a shorter heavily muscled one. They glowered down at her, simply watching her writhe in the warm grass in expectation of what was going to come next. She looked up and could see their erections raising up, pushing aside their buckskin loincloths. But they just stood there; looking down at her while she waited and waited for her fate to be delivered.

Then, as usual, Katherine woke up. She looked at the clock. It was eleven P.M.

Her sheets were wet with her sweat and her pussy was damp and hungry. She started to masturbate again, rubbing her fingers over her swollen clitoris, but that wasn’t what she was aching for. She wanted so badly to be filled, penetrated, fucked. She dug out her vibrator, but it was small; harmless. She tested slipping it into herself but it did not bring her the kind of satisfaction she needed right now.

In her nightshirt she stepped out onto the balcony into the cool night, hoping the fresh air would calm her down. Three stories up with the trees all around; open to the sky but surrounded by a four foot wall; as big as a small room at eight foot by ten; the balcony was her private outdoor spot in the crowded neighborhood and Katherine’s favorite part of the house. The moon was ducking in and out of clouds and the breeze was rustling the old trees that surrounded her. She looked off into the trees and over the rooftops, waiting for her mind and libido settle down.

She could hear activity at Eric and Matt’s house. She heard music and laugher, men and women’s voices. Her stomach turned when she thought how she was probably one of the livelier anecdotes of the evening’s conversation.

As she looked down at the boy’s house she thought she saw movement in their back yard. It was hard to tell if it was real or just an illusion caused by the shifting shadows of the moonlight through the trees. Peering down into the darkness her eyes slowly resolved shapes and patterns until finally she realized what she was looking at. On the edge of the picnic table leaned a person, a male, one of the boys perhaps, she couldn’t be sure. His head was obscured by leaves, but she could see he wore a dark shirt and lighter pants. In front of that person was another figure, a woman, squatting down, face at pelvis level, her mass of dark hair bobbing back and forth rhythmically. Katherine wished she could see more while simultaneously wishing she could see less. Finally she could distinctly hear a masculine voice gasp a satisfied “ohhhh” and she watched as the couple returned to the house hand in hand.

In a few minutes she was dressed in a dark blue, knee length skirt and a green, sleeveless cotton top; carefully descending the through the dark house. She hated walking through the creepy and creaking old house at night so she stepped into the back yard with relief. She paused a few seconds to be certain there were no more late night blow jobs occurring in the yard next door before going around the house to her car out front.

She got into her Malibu and drove out of town on Route One. She drove north for half an hour, knowing where she was headed, feeling ashamed already but trying not to think about it.

The building was just off the highway. It was a windowless, cinderblock box, painted dark brown with the word “ADULT” written large across the front. Next door was a seedy looking bar. She had never been in a pornography store before and she felt nervous at the thought. The building itself looked so damned sleazy and intimidating. She decided she would stop off at the bar first.

The bar seemed to be called “BAR”. She entered to the smell of stale beer, stale cigarette smoke and stale desperate lives. The clientele late on a Sunday night was sad and unappealing. She paused at the corner of the bar nearest the exit and waved the bartender over.

“Yeah?” he said. He was an ancient old geezer with a slobbery cigar tucked in the corner of his mouth.

“Two six packs of Heineken to go, and a shot of tequila.”


“Yes, please.”

Her entrance had aroused the locals who craned their necks to see the fresh meat who had just walked in. She could feel their eyes on her as they worked at prying off her clothes from across the room with their bleary, beer and whisky addled brains.

The bartender shuffled back over and put the brown bag with two six packs on the bar next to the slice of lime and two shots of tequila. “Feller down there says this is for you,” he said indicating the extra shot.

“Oh,” was all she could say. She looked up without thinking and saw a skeezy looking guy, probably about twenty years her senior with a sad comb-over wave at her.

Katherine pushed two twenties at the bartender and said, “Keep the change.” She quickly threw back both of the shots without the lime, gagging a bit on the warm, potent liquor. She saw the would-be lothario who had bought her the drink get up and start sauntering her way so she quickly grabbed the sack and hurried out the door. She could hear the Comb-over guy inside shout “Stuck up bitch” as the door closed behind her.

The beer safely stowed away in the trunk of her Malibu, Katherine gathered up her courage to enter “ADULT”. Her brain screamed at her to abort her plan, but aching animal need impelled her forward. Her base instincts finally broke the bonds of inertia and she strode purposefully toward the glass door, which had been painted black from the inside.

She entered not knowing what she’d find. She was surprised to discover the front section of the store was stocked with regular magazines and a few dusty looking new and used paperbacks. There was a partition with swinging saloon-type doors leading into a back area. A black plastic sign declared the area “For Adults Only”. A raised platform with the check-out counter and cash registers sat straddling either side of the divider, bridging bland literature and lurid filth.

Katherine stepped through the swinging doors into the “adults only” section. As she did, it occurred to her that there was nothing adult about driving to a different town at midnight on a Sunday night to shop for sex toys.

There were a dozen or so people, mostly male, browsing with singular intensity through the magazine and DVD racks. The few who looked up seemed surprised to see a professional looking woman enter before returning their attention to the racks of smut. As Katherine turned this way or that she felt their eyes looking up quickly to inspect her surreptitiously.

The merchandise she was looking for was easy to find. Wrapped in shiny, transparent, vacuum-formed hard plastic, the selection of dildos, vibrators and strap-ons hung like a monument to the ability of capitalism to anticipate and meet any and all the needs of world’s sleaziest citizenry. Standing in front of the section were two mismatched women. One, a scrawny, leathery, white-haired woman with a buzz-cut, was decked out in jeans, flannel, a wallet chain and heavy leather biker boots. She was with a large pale woman with long, blue-black hair, a short skirt, fishnet stockings and a tank-top that showed off a faded, misshapen tattoo of a leather clad pin up girl. Her bloated skin and heavy makeup make her age difficult to guess. Katherine walked towards them reluctantly; knowing that backing out now would elicit more attention from her fellow perverts than forging ahead and getting it over with.

The skinny dyke nodded at Katherine while taking low to her big friend. The large girl turned to Katherine and smiled big with impossibly white teeth. “Hey there beautiful,” she said, extra friendly. “Hi,” Katherine said quietly, trying to focus her attention on the latex and acrylic monstrosities before her. “Wanna double your fun, sugar?” said Big Girl. Katherine shook her head no, perhaps a little too forcefully. Skinny Dyke glowered at her and stalked off as Big Girl tossed her hair and said, “Your loss,” as she strutted away toward the register; brandishing a big double headed dildo like prison guard with a truncheon. Katherine turned back to the wall, aware of the eyes inspecting her as a result of her encounter with the lesbians. She looked at Big Girl laughing loudly at the checkout. She was amazed at her confidence. Why couldn’t she muster that kind of panache? Katherine was surely better looking. She tried to focus on the wide variety of sex toys arranged on the wall, but her skin was crawling with discomfort. Her eyes spotted a clear acrylic phallus with a clear purple head and a pretty purple ridge spiraling down the shaft to the hard, clear, stylized scrotum. She grabbed it quickly and, obscuring her selection from the rest of the customers with her body, she walked quickly to the register. The man behind the counter was grossly obese, unshaven, and greasy; a cliché scumbag who smiled and looked at her luridly as he slid the bar code over the scanner. “Anything else you need?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “No. Thank you,” replied Katherine deliberately. “Sixty six seventy eight,” he told her. Katherine tried to hide her surprise at the cost. She hadn’t checked the price when she’d picked it up, but she wasn’t about to ask him to void out the purchase so she could go back and comparison shop the sex toys. She slid him her MasterCard. After she signed for her purchase and he handed it to her, saying, “Have a good night,” she turned to the swinging doors to make her escape. That’s when Paul walked in. Paul Davis worked with Katherine. Worse, Paul worked for Katherine, being directly under her in the chain of command. As their eyes met in mutual horror, he went pale while Katherine blushed lividly. Frozen in place facing each other, Katherine heard the man behind the register start to chuckle. “Let’s talk Paul,” she said and, with a hand on his shoulder, pushed him backward towards the front door. Paul was a nice, clean-cut guy; a staunch Christian, recently married, reliable employee. Katherine and Jack had been at his wedding a little over a year ago and she knew he and his wife were expecting a baby within the month. The shock of seeing him looking at her, then looking down at the black plastic bag in her hand, had kicked into gear the cold eyed corporate tactician within her. He had to be more freaked out, she figured, since he had more to loose. She led him out to her car, ready to lay the law down; dictate the deal. She told him to get in the car. “Look Paul, I know your situation…” He began to cry; not seeping tears, but full-on, hysterical blubbering. “Oh God, Please Jesus, Oh God…” he kept saying between sobs. Finally he choked out, “Please don’t tell Laura I’m gay.” “You’re… You’re gay?” she said with honest surprise. “I thought you said you knew,” he sobbed. “I knew you were about to have a child and you were sneaking into a porno store on a Sunday night.” “Oh GOD,” he started blubbering again. “Look I was just saying that…” “I’ve been good since I married Laura. I haven’t strayed in over a year. Now THIS!” “It’s just a magazine or a movie or whatever, it’s not so bad.” She felt honestly sorry for him. He was inconsolable. “No. No. No. It much worse than that. I was… I was coming here for the…” his voice fell to a whisper, “for the glory hole.” “Holy fucking shit,” she said. “I didn’t know there really was such a thing.” “Booths five and eight. In the back,” he said with obvious expertise. “Whoa.” “I know, I know. Please don’t tell Laura. I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll never be back.” He sagged onto her and started crying uncontrollably again, soaking her shoulder with his tears. “OK, OK. Just buck up kiddo. It’ll be OK. I’m not going to tell anyone. Ever. I swear to God.” He cried for about ten minutes before Katherine could get him out of her car and escort him to his new Dodge Caravan with the price sticker still on the window. She watched in shock as he drove off. Back at her car door she paused, standing with her keys in her hand. She looked back at the plain, ugly building. She thought about how she hadn’t noticed any booths in the back. She told her self not to go back in. Stupid curiosity had already got her into an awkward situation with an employee tonight. What was she expecting to see anyway? She decided, definitely, not to go back in. But still, she stood beside her car, mind racing. As she once again pushed through the swinging doors into the adult section of the store, the clerk leered at her. “Welcome back,” he said. “How much do the booths cost?” she asked quietly. “Quarter a minute,” he answered, smiling at her. She felt every eye on her as she walked back through the doorway into the hallway in back. It smelled of bleach and stale jism and was rimmed with doors, some open, some closed. She saw booth eight was closed. There was a light on above it. Booth seven was closed and lit too. She followed the numbers backwards. Booth six, five and four all stood waiting. She stepped in five and shut the door. She sat on the hard bench next to an empty box of generic brand tissues. On either side of her she saw a hole about four inches in diameter, drips and streaks of yellowish slime ran from the holes to the ground where small puddles of the same had congealed. Her heart was beating so fast. What the hell was she doing here? She fished into her purse and found two quarters. She plunked them both into the machine. A TV behind what looked like filthy bulletproof glass came to life, showing a thin Asian girl getting screwed in the ass. The sound, low and muddy, broadcast her screams. Was that supposed to be sexy? “Hey,” she heard a voice coming from her right and looked down to see a couple of fingers wiggling through the hole. “You, uh, open?” Katherine told herself she needed to get out of here. But instead she said, “Let’s see it.” There was movement behind the partition, and then a semi-hard cock and a veiny, wrinkled set of balls poked through. Katherine reached out and touched the cock, drew her fingers down the shaft and watched it respond instantly, growing outward towards her. She took it into her hand stroked it gently, felt it grow longer and harder as she handled it. “Come on, suck it,” said the voice, muffled through the particleboard wall. Cradling the balls in her hand, leaning forward she brought her face to the unseen stranger’s penis. It was fully erect now; perhaps five and a half inches long; not particularly wide. She put her lips on the head and gave it a kiss. “That’s right, now suck it,” he said. It tasted sour and musky. She put her lips to it again and let the head slip into her mouth. The man behind the partition groaned.

Her video machine turned off with a clunk. She ignored it and started working her face up and down on the shaft, rubbing the underside with her tongue. That was the way Jack had liked it.

“Hey, you gotta keep the machine running or they’ll kick you out,” said the voice behind the cock.

“I’m out of quarters,” she whispered loudly at the penis.

“Christ,” he said and the cock disappeared. She heard some rustling and clinking. “Here,” he said a hand appeared through the hole, dropping about a dozen quarters into her cupped hands.

She turned to start feeding the quarters into the machine as the cock poked back through the hole. She glanced over at the other hole and saw a blue eye looking at her. It blinked at her then disappeared. Soon a second penis, this one fully erect and about six inches long, popped into the booth.

Mind spinning, Katherine returned to the first cock, still wet with her spit. Without hesitation she slid her mouth onto it. Reaching back behind her, she put her hand on the other prick and began running it gently back and forth over the rim of the head, keeping it erect.

She had never cared for performing oral sex before. She did it as a duty to be dispensed with, or a service to be exchanged for similar attention to herself. But this was different. She was actually enjoying sucking this stranger’s dick. Perhaps it was the disassociation of the act from the power politics of a relationship. Perhaps it was something much more primal. But the feel of the organ growing and twitching in her mouth, leaking dabs of precum as she worked along its length to the muffled groans of the man behind the wall was strangely thrilling to her.

She felt the penis in her hand behind her start to vibrate and something wet splattered onto her shoulder and into her hair. Pulling back her wet hand, her trepidation at what she was doing suddenly came rushing back to her as she looked at the sperm running down her left forearm. Feeling the dick in her mouth start to shudder as well, she pulled back, but too late, as it too erupted; flinging it’s hot seed directly into her face and onto her chest.

Katherine was suddenly horrified and she leapt up too quickly, slipping on the slick floor and slamming backwards into the door. She fumbled with the knob and exited to find four men standing around her booth, waiting their turns with glazed, hungry looks in their eyes. She pushed her way through them, out through the store and leapt into her car. She looked into the rearview mirror at her semen splattered face and, unable to find a tissue in her purse or the glove box, she pulled up the bottom of her shirt to wipe the slime away. Looking up she saw a couple of men poking their heads from the door of the store and looking her way. She peeled out of the parking lot and sped for home along the back roads of central New Jersey.

All the way home she felt the spunk she had not managed to wipe off drying on her, constricting her skin as it congealed into pale flakes. Agitated, she felt like she could feel the millions of little wriggling sperm flailing about on her flesh as they slowly died. Finally at home she drove up her street with her lights out and snuck back into her house where she threw out her clothes. She even disposed of her panties which, although uninfected by semen, were wet reminders of her arousal during her recent depravity.

She drew a deep, hot bath in the big claw foot tub. While it filled she wiped herself down with a soapy washrag which she threw into the trashcan with the clothes. Finally, looking in the mirror before climbing into the tube she laughed at herself. Why was she freaking out? She had done nothing today she hadn’t done before, she told herself. True, she had just never done such a thing to two men at once, or to a complete stranger, or to two complete strangers for that matter.

She was getting aroused again. What the hell was wrong with her?

She woke up in the bathtub about an hour later with the water gone cold. Pulling herself out, she dug into the trash to find the sixty-six dollar dildo she had thrown away with the rest of the night’s mementos. At nine inches long, she didn’t remember it being so large. She climbed into bed with her new toy and began rubbing its ridged shaft up and down along the folds of her vulva. Closing her eyes she imagine Matt, big, bulky powerful Matt teasing her with his hard cock; pushing it against her; circling the rim of her vagina; slipping in just the head and holding it there, then slowly invading her. Then she imagined it was Eric; his cock running in and out of her lazily, but gradually gathering speed until he was ramming it into her with wet squelches; hitting her g-spot on every stroke until, finally, she cried out as she came.

Finally sated and feeling suddenly sleepy, she pulled her new friend from inside her with a wet queef. She reached behind her to plant the dildo base down on the sill of the window that looked out to the balcony before she quickly fell asleep.

She dreamt again, but this time it was a brand new dream. She was a Parisian courtesan living in a richly decorated garret apartment overlooking the Seine. Her hair was pinned up loosely and she wore a black satin lace-up corset, black garters holding up fishnet stocking, long lace gloves and high heel pumps that she left on as she lounged in her large, four post bed. She wore no panties or bra. All day, every day, men would patronize her in her bed. All the men of Paris, laborers, gentlemen, soldiers and priests would line up for the famous and delectable whore Katherine. When the lines of her admirers grew too long she would call them in two or even three at time. Each satisfied customer would thank her profusely and drop a handful of gold quarters into the cut crystal bowl by the side of her bed. It was a good dream.

She awoke at nine thirty, very late for her, to the sound of birds chirping loudly as they perched in the trees outside or reeled and plunged through the air. Looking outside it was a perfect, warm May morning. The sun was shining with dazzling intensity and the sky was a bright blue with a few perfectly puffy white clouds drifting lazily to the east. She decided it was too nice to spend all day sweating in the bare, dusty confines of this old house. She’d give herself the day off. Katherine put on her old robe, brewed a cup of coffee, picked up her book and stepped outside where she settled into the new lawn chair she’d bought on her last visit to the hardware store. She started reading, but she couldn’t concentrate. It was too nice to stare at the page. She stood up, surveying the trees and roof tops that surrounded her, watching the birds and squirrels.

Her reverie was interrupted when she heard Eric’s voice drift up from next door, “Matt, put the fucking ladder back, you dick!”

Katherine looked down to see Eric standing on the back edge of their roof, looking into their yard as some point obscured by her big sycamore that shaded both back lots. He wore olive cargo shorts and no shoes or shirt, each crease and muscle visible on his lithe chest and back as he berated Matt.

“My fuckin’ feet are burning off up here. Put the ladder back you asshole,” he continued, while shifting his weight from foot to foot.

Katherine smiled at their immature boys play. She called down to Eric, “Didn’t your folks teach you not to play on the roof?”

Eric looked up. Squinting and shielding his eyes with his hand he called back, “Oh, hi Kathy. Hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No I’ve been up a few minutes.”

Matt walked into view from under the canopy of leaves, carrying an old wood stepladder. He wore red shorts and a black tank-top. “Sorry Kathy, I’ll let Eric down,” he said mock-sheepishly.

“So, what are you guys doing anyway?”

“We thought we’d catch a few rays, but your tree covers the whole back yard.”

“And Eric thought he’d check out the roof.”

Katherine nodded and said, “If you guys want to sunbathe you can come up here. It’s real nice.” She had made the offer without thinking about it. She was proud of herself, it had sounded so natural, so cool. But the butterflies in her stomach got started immediately.

The boys looked at each other and back at her. Eric said, “That sounds cool.”

“Yeah,” said Matt.

“I’ve got your Heineken too. But I guess it’s probably too early for beer.”

“No such thing as too early for beer Kathy,” laughed Matt.

“Give me fifteen minutes and meet me at the back door.”

“Back door it is Kathy,” said Eric, unable to resist the double entendre and drawing a cross look from Matt.

Kathy was suddenly feeling shaky as she went to the cedar chest where she keep the clothes she rarely wore. Digging down inside, she found her two bathing suits; the blue one-piece, the one she actually used, looking faded and threadbare as she held it up to inspect it; and the black string bikini that Jack had encouraged her to buy for their cruise, but which had stayed in the bottom of her luggage the whole trip. Her heart racing she walked down to the bathroom with the bikini in hand.

When she got it on she looked herself over in the full length mirror. She felt naked, more than if she was in her underwear. But she had to admit to herself, she looked OK, desirable even. Except her hair, she had just gotten up and it showed. So she gave herself a quick tease, bringing out the full body of her wavy, light brown locks. Looking closely into her face, she reached for the make-up bag. As she applied her makeup, with as much care as if she was going to work or out on the town, she paused. Make-up for sunbathing? What was she doing?

“I’m going to fuck those boys,” she said to herself in the mirror.

It came to her in a flash. Her problem yesterday, indeed her whole life, was that she never quite knew what her plan was. Waiting to be seduced by these kids and wandering into glory hole booths was getting her tied up in knots. She was making a plan and she was going to follow through on it.

“I’m going to fuck Matt and Eric,” she said to herself as she applied her lipstick. “God damn it, you just watch me. You just watch me fuck ’em both.”

Looking in the mirror now she had a sudden swoop of uneasiness, she looked pretty slutty. But she rallied herself. She wanted to look slutty. She wanted those boys to have no doubt of her intentions. She started to pull her old robe back on before going down to the back door, but stopped herself. She threw it in the hamper and squared her shoulders.

“Here I go,” she said and marched down stairs in her tiny, black string bikini.

Her heart was racing as she opened the back door. Matt and Eric were in her yard in shorts and tank-tops trying to play hackie-sack with a fragment of old brick. Seeing her standing radiant in the doorway, their jaws literally dropped open.

“Hope I didn’t keep you boys waiting too long,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“N… No,” said Matt.

“It’s just been like… half an hour,” said Eric.

Good, she thought. Make them wait. She was worth it and they’d find that out soon enough.

“It’s upstairs. You know the way,” she led them up the noisy stairs, trying to put a little extra wiggle in her walk as they followed behind her, eye to ass. She felt silly. She felt sexy too.

They got to her little apartment upstairs and she swung her arm around in a wide arc, “This is my place. You guys want one of those beers?”

As Matt and Eric stepped out onto the balcony, she took three bottles out of the little half-fridge she kept up in her room and rooted around for the opener. While looking, she found something she had forgotten she had. When she had moved out of Neal’s to restart working on her house, he had given her a cigarette pack with five joints in it. “When you get too stressed out you’ll have something to fall back on,” he told her. She had scoffed at him. She hadn’t done that since college; considered it kids stuff. But kid’s stuff was just what the doctor ordered right now. She slipped one back into her hair, tucked behind her ear.

Stepping out onto the porch she handed beers to the boys, popped hers open and tossed the opener to Eric. She didn’t care for beer but she took a long sip of hers; Dutch courage as it were.

“Spread your blankets out. It’s pretty roomy.”

“Yeah this is pretty sweet,” said Eric. He seemed unable to keep from darting his eyes along her body.

“Yeah thanks for the beer,” said Matt, taking a pull from his bottle.

“You earned it, remember?” she laughed, feeling carefree and sexy.

“You didn’t have to actually…” began Matt.

“Actually,” she interrupted. “I have a bonus for you two if you are interested.”

She saw their eyes get wide and they both pulled in their breaths as she reached up into her hair with her left hand. She realized they thought she was going to pull the bow on her bikini and take off her top. Good, she thought. They wanted her and she could tell. She felt herself get a little wet when she realized this was probably actually going to happen,

She pulled out the joint, fat and pointy ended, and showed it to them. “Do you guys…?” she let the question trail off because she didn’t know the modern slang. She didn’t want to seem old by calling the marijuana something stupid.

“Hells yeah,” said Eric, his gaze finally pulled from her crotch to look upon the joint with unalloyed joy.

“Awesome,” said Matt, rubbing his hands together in delight.

They sat cross legged on their towels in a circle. Katherine handed the joint and a lighter to Eric who got it started and passed it back to Katherine. In silence they took turns puffing on it as it passed around the circle. It was strong pot and Katherine felt herself grow giddy very quickly. After her third puff she passed on further tokes and the boys alternated turns until it was a much reduced brown roach.

The last of the smoke drifted away into the late morning air as the trio sat looking at each other with dopey grins and bleary, red-rimmed eyes. It was obvious to all that something was going to happen between them but it was not clear when or how the ball would get rolling. Katherine sat contented for the time being, enjoying the tingly thrill of anticipation.

“Your exams all done?” she asked, picking an obvious topic of small talk.

“Last one this morning,” said Eric.

“I have my last one tomorrow afternoon,” said Matt distractedly.

As she sat leaning against the house, Katherine noticed that the boys seemed to be looking up over her head as much as they were ogling her bikini clad body. The dope was making her a little paranoid. What were they looking at? She turned her head to see what was up there and Eric burst out laughing. She turned back towards him. “What?” she demanded.

“Kathy, I hate to tell you, but you left your dildo in the window,” at this he totally broke down laughing; rolling over on his side in uncontrollable fits of amusement. Matt lost it too, guffawing along as Katherine’s turned to see the purple acrylic head poking up in the window behind her.

Thank God she was stoned. Her embarrassment drowned in her own laughter. That ridiculous dildo had been poking up above her all this time while she played the cool vixen. Ha Ha.

After many minutes their laughter finally subsided. “I just bought it. Do’ya want to see?” she said and got up to open the door and grab it. She held it up next to her face and smiled big, like a model advertising a product. She could smell herself on it from last night as she turned her head and kissed it sweetly.

“That’s pretty hot Kathy,” said Matt.

Katherine was feeling her lust welling up like a gusher now. She could see the desire behind the boys’ eyes and the increasing tightness in their shorts. “Do you want to know what I think is hot?” she asked, finally going for it.

The boys were suddenly serious. “What?” they asked together.

Katherine laughed away the last of her reluctance before she spoke. “I have this dream. I’ve had it over and over again for years. In the dream I’m on the ground naked, writhing around while a man, or men, watch me.” She drew the head of the dildo down her belly and looked at Matt and Eric with serious eyes, “would you like to watch me?”

The boys nodded their heads with their mouths agape.

Katherine changed her position so she sat with her legs opened and her back against house. She reached down, slipped loose the bows on either side of her bikini bottoms and flipped away the triangle of fabric, exposing the brown hair and pink lips of her pussy. She drew the dildo down, sliding the head along the crease between her increasingly wet lips.

“You boys like that?” she asked breathlessly. They nodded eagerly.

She began dipping the head into herself, wetting the acrylic glans and then teasing herself more, getting more aroused as she watched them shift uncomfortably to accommodate their stiffening cocks. She plunged it into herself deeper and withdrew it again. Not knowing what seized her, just doing it because she knew it would turn the guys on, Katherine brought the wet head of the dildo to her mouth and sucked her juice off of it. The slightly sour taste was worth the look of total enslavement on the faces of the two horny young men.

Eric moved forward on hands and knees, reaching for her. She poked him in the chest with her toe and pushed him back. “You’ll get your chance kiddo,” she taunted and once again drove the dildo into herself.

She began working it in and out while bringing her other hand up to rub her clit in tempo. She looked at Eric who had his hand down his shorts, massaging himself unabashedly. Matt just stared, sitting on his hands.

“Kathy, this is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” said Matt, practically drooling.

That did it for Kathy. Making the top of the list for a hunky young specimen like Matt was honor indeed. Her breath caught in her throat and her body started contracting around the big, clear phallus. She gasped and panted as she came in front of the two young men.

She opened her eyes again when she felt hands taking her ankles and opening her legs wider. Eric was moving in again and this time she didn’t stop him. On his knees, his face low, he glided, face first, into her wet, dildo stuffed womanhood. He took the acrylic cock in hand and began working it in and out of her as he lapped up her juice and traced along her labia with his lips and tongue.

Matt stood up slow and stepped over to straddle Katherine and Eric. He pulled his cock from his shorts and it bobbed impertinently in front of her face; seven inches of rock hard flesh. Katherine opened her mouth and looked up into his downturned face as he fed her his cock. She braced her head back against the wall as he face-fucked her. She groaned with delight to be so used by her young stud.

Matt didn’t last long once Katherine started rippling her tongue along the underside of his shaft while he pumped it back and forth into her mouth. “Oh. Oh. I’m gonna come,” he warned but she wanted him to come in her mouth. It wasn’t like with Jack. It wasn’t something to be tolerated, she wanted, genuinely wanted, Matt to fill her mouth with his sperm because she knew it would turn him on. That is all she desired right now; to be aroused by arousing.

Matt’s body went rigid and his member started gushing; filling her mouth with hot, chalky, salty slime so that it leaked from the corners; dripping down between her breasts and onto her bikini top; white on black fabric. She let him pump it all into her and she swallowed all that didn’t escape her. When he leaned back away from her, Katherine looked up to see a pearly strand stretch between his florid, deflating cock and her glazed lips.

Meanwhile, Eric had found her clit and was driving her towards another climax, but she reached down and grabbed a handful of his short blond hair to pull his face up from between her thighs.

“Your turn,” she said to him with a smile. As he got up eagerly, Katherine finally shed her top, leaving her completely naked for the appreciative eyes of the boys.

Eric took Matt’s place and brought his erection to her lips. His cock was about six inches long, shorter than Matt’s but significantly fatter. He had to stand with his long legs spread wide to reach Katherine’s mouth comfortably. Once situated, he took his turn pumping his fat meat in and out between her lips as she reached up to tickle his taint and cup his balls.

The pre-cum was flowing from Eric and his cock was getting close to letting go so she braced herself for another mouthful. But Eric pulled his meat from between her pouting lips and began jerking it, inches from her face, aimed right at her. She looked up into his eyes and saw a wicked grin break across his face. “I’m going to cum on your face Kathy,” he rasped at her.

Kathy’s heart rate jumped. Yes. She wanted him to. It was something so degrading, so vile, but she craved to be treated like slut by these boys. She stretched her arms straight up above her head, grabbed his left wrist where as he braced himself against the wall. He understood. He took her wrists in his big hand, as if she was his prisoner; helpless before his coming flood. She closed her eyes.

With a grunt from Eric a heavy gusher of semen shot out to slap into her forehead and course down over her face. Each pulse adding to her glaze which covered her face, splattered into her hair and dripped from her chin down onto her bare body.

She heard Matt’s voice full of disbelief, “Wow.”

Katherine wiped the jism from her eyelids to look through a mask of spunk at the boys collapsed against the front wall of the balcony. Their faces were flush and enraptured as they sat slowly rubbing their cocks, trying to work them back into action.

They told her how sexy she was and how lucky they were and she reveled it in. It felt good to be desired; to be told she was hot by hot men. She finally wiped her face and body clean with her towel and trotted back inside to get three more beers.

She passed two beers to the boys and drank about a third of hers as she sat naked with her legs spread open, watching as they worked their cocks. Finally putting her beer aside she commanded them to sit next to each other, close together. At first the young men were reluctant to sit thigh to thigh as she commanded, but she finally chided them into position; their legs wide, but with Matt’s right up against Eric’s left. When Katherine had them as she wanted, she lay face down atop their legs, her breasts rubbing into their thighs, her wet pussy sliding along their shins. With lusty enthusiasm she began to stroke both cocks while sucking one then the other; occasionally taking both heads into her mouth together. Soon their young organs were alive again and ready for her.

While Katherine was working the boys back to attention, the day was growing cloudier and the breeze was picking up. As she raised her head from the newly reawakened penises, Matt asked if they should move inside. Katherine sat up and looked around at the tossing trees and the blacking sky as the wind whipped her tousled, semen-flecked hair. She looked back at the boy’s faces and saw a shadow of worry. Then she knew; she wanted to stay outside and ride out the approaching storm. Vetoing a move inside, she commanded Eric to lie on his back while she stepped back through the door to grab something from the end table drawer.

She reemerged and tossed an object to Matt. It was a half full tube of KY, left over from Jack’s regrettable anal phase. She had never managed to acquire a liking for anal sex, but with the two boys at her feet and ready to go, she was eager to give it another try. She said to Matt, “That’s for you.”

She straddled Eric on her knees and settled onto his fat shaft with a sigh. She began slowly rocking back and forth on his cock, just enough to keep him hard, while leaning forward with her thighs wide, presenting an easy target for Matt.

Matt took the hint and began rubbing Katherine’s ass with the lube. He massaged her pucker lovingly to her ecstatic encouragement, finally poking a finger inside her, provoking a slight yelp. “Keep going,” she rasped as he worked his finger in and out of her. Then he had two fingers in her; stretching her more, loosing her up. His fingers were withdrawn and Matt’s cock, slippery with KY, was pushing at her anus. With a gasp she felt it glide into her; driving deeper and deeper with each push. Finally, he and Eric were both balls deep inside her and she was gasping at the pain and pleasure of being so completely filled.

A crack of thunder sounded and fat drops of rain began to splat onto the balcony all around them. “Keep going,” ordered Katherine, heedless of the rapidly rising wind and dropping temperature as the storm bore down upon them.

As the rain picked up from shower to downpour to deluge, they moved together, three as one; clutching each other tightly, sliding wet skin together, using hot friction to fight the cold, tempest-driven rain. Lightening and thunder burst around them, making them jump and tremble like frightened animals, only to laugh at themselves as they returned to their desperate, vigorous fucking. The frenzied intensity of the storm made Katherine feel as though the whole world was coming apart around her while her body was pushed closer and closer to ultimate pleasure by the pounding action of young, firm flesh deep inside her. As the stormed reached its violent crescendo, Katherine surrendered herself to wild lust and her body was seized by a screaming, clawing orgasm that echoed through the neighborhood like the wail of a stormed-birthed banshee.

Stupefied by the powerful climax, Katherine’s mind was blank and unfocused. She watched uncomprehending as the scratches she had gouged across Eric’s chest began to ooze blood. She heard him struggle to speak over the noise of the storm. Behind her, Matt answered in disjointed, panting phrases. Katherine could hear their voices but her brain could not process the words. In her feral, fuck-crazed state she was as near to an animal as she had ever been.

Matt and Eric’s cocks were pulled from her. She protested in shallow-breathed, guttural gasps; only able to plead, “Keep going, fuck me,” over and over. Their strong hands flipped her over so she was face up; staring up into rain coming down so hard she had to turn her head to gasp air. She felt the boys entering her again after having switched places; Matt in her pussy, Eric’s fat cock in her bottom. She groaned in pleasure as they began to thrust into her again. She answered by grinding back and forth, writhing into them, using her last reserves of strength to milk them closer to climax in the raw crevices of her body.

As if Katherine’s animalistic sex screams had pushed the heavy clouds out into Raritan Bay, the storm rapidly devolved into a gentle rain. The sun began to poke through the lightened clouds and the boys continued to work their tired, shaking bodies closer to climax as Katherine felt her herself coiling up for another explosion. Finally, as a shaft of sun bathed the balcony in clear, brilliant light, the renewed vigor of the boy’s final assault pushed Katherine over the edge one last time. Within seconds of her last release, Matt, his cock squeezed and pumped by the constricting walls of her pussy, cried out; his orgasm taking control of him. As Matt’s member pulsed against Eric’s though the soft, thin inner flesh of Katherine’s quivering body, Eric too was pushed to his peak and came with shuddering grunts deep in Katherine’s ass.

Dazed and exhausted, the trio decoupled and rolled apart to lie panting, soaked and sated in the sun while splashed by the dying drops of the spent storm. Katherine felt herself being lifted and brought inside. Matt and Eric dried her off and tucked her into bed with thanks and kisses; telling her hopefully that they would see her soon.

She lay in bed exhausted but unwilling to let herself sleep as she tried to extract the last glow out of her incredible sex with the young neighbors. Every muscle was stiff and her ass and vagina felt raw and bruised, but she smiled, the pain merely a hangover to a wonderful, wild party.

Finally, as her eyes drifted shut, she took stock of who and where she was; a woman in a gutted fixer-upper that her long-gone ex-husband had foisted upon her. But that was fine. For the first time in her life, she felt like she could do anything.

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