Joseph Savior was cleaning the family room of the four-
bedroom colonial, cleaning and waiting for the calm that
occurred only at night in their busy home. The odd and
relaxing silence that sleeping kids would bring. Oh
sure, a few giggling outbursts or requests for water
from the c******n, but then as they drifted off the
blessed silence would come.

Mary was upstairs putting the c******n to bed. Four of
them. From ten year old hellion, David, to three year
old Beth. With eight year old, Tommy and six year old
Faith in between. Four busy kids. While Mary was
upstairs with the kids, Joseph straightened up the
ground floor of the home. Mary and Joseph alternated the
jobs of c***d-bedder and home-straightener. Putting the
Sega away, picking up the books and CDs, clearing the
kitchen counters, loading the dishwasher and generally
improving the appearance of the home for the morning
when the kids would descend and begin their day anew. As
tomorrow was Saturday, the mayhem would continue all
day, Joseph reminded himself ruefully.

Upstairs, Mary was reading Beth a book. Beth was just
starting to lose focus on her mother; her blinking eyes
taking longer each time to reopen. Mary read the
mechanically, putting less character and volume into her
voice as Beth started to nod off. Deep down, Mary was
wrestling with a large issue. How to tell her husband,
Joseph about the URGE. Because THE URGE was upon her. It
had started two weeks ago as the tiniest suggestion in
her head and built steadily until tonight it captivated
her waking moments, bouncing around powerfully in her
skull. THE URGE. Mary hoped Joseph would take it well.
Not lay too much Catholic guilt on her. THE URGE was
impervious to criticism, but Mary was not. Why do I have
these thoughts, she asked herself sadly? Why?

As Beth drifted off, Mary closed the book and crept out
of the bedroom. In the bathroom, she examined herself in
the large half mirror. Mary Savior, wife and mother at
thirty-six years. The Classic Soccer Mom. Had the
minivan and suburban house. Identified herself first as
a mother, second as a wife, third as a lover.

She stood five foot nothing in her stocking flat feet;
weighed between 125 pounds when she was exercising to
140 pounds when her period was in and she guiltily
indulged herself in forbidden sweets and happened to be
off her exercise regimen. Shoulder-length blond hair and
light blue eyes.

Mary would describe herself as average. Just average.
Two B cup breasts after the four c******n; somewhat
saggy with traceries of light blue veins; a stomach that
pooched out slightly no matter which diet or how hard it
was exercised. The belly button which frowned downward.
The stretch marks, tiny white scars on her tummy and
thighs and butt. The marks she bore for her c******n.
Firmly resigned to wearing only one-piece bathing suits
to hide her marks.

Turning around and looking back over her shoulder, Mary
checked to see how her bottom appeared through her work
slacks. Oh yeah. The ever-present slight sag of her
butt, years ago her best feature. She sighed and left
the bathroom. Time to talk with Joseph.

Joe was sitting at the dining room table paying the
bills when Mary rejoined him. He gazed up at her fondly,
his wife of 13 years. He loved everything about her. He
was comfortable about her body and her pretty face. Any
chance? On a Friday night? Probably not. They were
generally worn out after work and coming home to fix
dinner and be with the kids. She sure looked down about
something.

“Kids go down all right?”

“Yes,” Mary answered dutifully. “Beth was nodding off
before I finished Winnie the Pooh. The boys are quiet. I
think Faith is already asleep.” She sat down next to him
at the large table. She sighed. That’s how Joseph knew
it was talking time.

“Anything the matter, hon?” he asked anxiously,
wondering what it could be. “You need something?”

Mary looked up at him. She didn’t want to say the words.
Didn’t want to see the look of pain in his eyes. Again.
She fought for the words and the context to put them in.
She lost and just ended up blurting it out miserably.

“I… I… I have THE URGE, Joe. I have the URGE and I’m
so sorry…” she gushed, tears springing to her eyes.

Joe felt the heat rush to his face as he stared at his
wife. Not anger– he loved her too much for that–but he
felt the distress and the guilty twinge in his pants.
Again?

Mary watched him flush and cringed inwardly. Why do I do
this to him? Why can’t we be ordinary always? she
thought helplessly. But the word was out hanging
awkwardly between them. She waited on her husband. Joe
breathed out, his breath releasing his tension.

“Again, honey? THE URGE again? So soon?” he asked,
trying to keep his emotions out of the mix. Careful what
you say, he cautioned himself.

“Yes, Joe. So soon.” Mary whispered. “It’s been in my
head for a couple of weeks now. I had to tell you. I’m
sorry–I really am,” she finished lamely, wanting
nothing more than for Joe to hold her and make it all
better.

“The last time was…?”

“Three years ago, Joe. We had just had Beth,” Mary
answered sadly.

Joe was silent, lost in his thoughts. She wants to do it
again? She has to do it again? He felt like he could cry
himself, add his tears to hers. I have to be strong for
Mary, he told himself. I love her and she loves me. THE
URGE doesn’t change that. He breathed rhythmically,
forcing the tension out of his body. Force the b***d out
of his penis that was bent uncomfortably in his pants.

“And you want to do it again?”

“I need to do it again, Joe. I don’t want to. I need
to,” Mary said meekly, raising her face to gauge his
reaction.

“THE URGE,” he repeated, sadly.

“Yes, Joe. THE URGE, Mary said patiently. “It’s on me
and I can’t get rid of it. It’s driving me crazy. I’m
sorry.”

Joseph was silent. He had to tell her it was okay even
though it wasn’t. Not by a long shot. But deep down in
his mind, he knew he would make her sweat it out before
he told her. He just couldn’t let her know how scary and
exciting a proposition these Urges were. He had that
much coming for what the URGE put him through. Finally,
“Okay, Mary. How do we do this?”, he answered in his
best gritty-pain voice.

Mary sat back, relieved from this ordeal. Four times
she’d had to tell Joseph about THE URGE. The first time
was the worst but it never got easier. In fact, it
at all times got harder, watching his pain. He loved her–she
knew that–and she knew this caused him great pain.
Watching his wife defiled by strangers. Because that’s
what THE URGE was. A pain-causing monster. A potential
strain on the relationship.

It had been four times now. Four times that Joseph had
taken his wife to the gloryhole in the Men’s Room of a
rest stop on I-94 an hour and a half out of Chicago and
her suburbs. Whereupon he was bound by Mary’s rules
while he watched her service strangers through a six-
inch by six-inch hole he’d had to cut himself in the
wall between two stalls. Standing helplessly by while
she was reviled by these lucky bastards and signaling
for him to take another Polaroid to add to THE BOX. No
pornography of any kind in the Savior home. No Playboys,
nothing on the Internet, no saucy cable channels. Just
THE BOX, with its Polaroids of Mary And The Strangers,
carefully locked and hidden on the top shelf of the
closet.

Away from prying eyes of their c******n. Even the key to
the damn thing was hidden. Taped under a drawer in
Mary’s dresser. And Joseph suspected his wife looked at
those pictures occasionally when she was alone. Relived
those sessions. Maybe masturbated to them. And the
saddest part was that Joseph himself had used them to
masturbate in a furious seven-day spurt when Mary and
the kids had gone to visit her parents in Minnesota.
That had been humiliating to Joe.

THE URGE was a powerful totem to Mary, Joseph knew. A
sort of command to debase herself. The first time she
asked him, it had taken two weeks of steady low-key
argument before he gave his unwilling consent. And it
had been every bit as nerve-wracking and slightly
revolting as he wondered it would be. He brought Mary
home a cum-splattered and sore wreck. With bruises on
her butt that didn’t fade for weeks. And she had wanted
more. He couldn’t find out it, but Mary was a perfect
life-partner in every other way.

“Can this be the last? The last time we… do this?”

Mary’s face was teary. She felt horrible about THE URGE.
Just horrible. And it wouldn’t let her agree.

“I… no, Joe. I hope it’ll hold me for a long time. I
do. But I can’t promise you it would be the last. I
really can’t,” she finished miserably.

Joe was silent, watching his loving wife steadily,
hating to see her tears. He knew she felt bad. I should
tell her it’s all right. I should tell her it’s
frightening but it’s all right. And I should tell her
it’s a weird kick for me, even though no man should let
others use his wife. Or get off by watching it happen.
But the only thing Joe could bring himself to say was:

“When do we do this?”

“I was thinking maybe… tomorrow night. Your Mom said
they’d take the kids. Overnight.” Mary’s face was
hopeful; she knew she was gushing– showing she’d kind
of had it planned out–and that could irritate Joe. “I
was hoping maybe we’d spend the night at that little
motel. And come home in the morning,” she finished
lamely, watching her husband’s face. But Joe had put his
poker face on. He had a wariness in his eyes that she
had put there.

“What did you tell them we were doing?”

“Your parents? I told them we were thinking about
heading into Chicago to see a show and do the Loop. I
told them it depended on how much running around we had
to do tomorrow. I told them I’d call her as soon as we
figured out what we would do.” She waited expectantly,
praying.

“Okay, Mary. Call them and tell them we need them to
baby-sit overnight. We’ll do it. Okay?”

Mary felt fresh tears in her eyes. Tears of happiness
that Joseph loved her and would help her with THE URGE.
She loved him so much.

“You want to go upstairs in a little while, Joe? I’d
like that,” she offered. Joe gave a rueful smile.

“No thanks, hon. I’ll save it up for tomorrow. I’m
pretty tired and I’ve got some paperwork to go over.
Rain check?”

“Rain check,” Mary agreed, although she would have
rather they had gone upstairs and made love. She wanted
be with him for a while.

He tossed and turned in bed that night, thinking about
events to come.

Chapter Two: The Gloryhole

And so it was that Joe and Mary Savior awoke Saturday
with a charged tension between them. The Saturday
chores–the shopping, the cleaning, the lawn, got
completed in their due course, however, the stiltedness
remained between the married couple.

Mary took it upon herself to be cheerful and playful
with the c******n and with Joe. He responded weakly at
best to her attempts to lighten his worried mood. The
c******n were thrilled at the prospect at spending the
night at Joe’s parent’s home. The videos were already
rented and Grandma Savior had already advised of the
provisions she had laid in for their arrival. By six in
the evening the kids were in the minivan and Mary had
jumped into the “Mommy seat” next to Joe; her own
special provisions carried in an overnight bag set
between them.

Dropping off the c******n went without a hitch. Mary
chatted excitedly with Joe’s Mom while Joe spoke idly
with his Father, about the gas mileage his father had
coaxed out of his recreational vehicle last summer. Joe
suspected that his father was responsible for more than
a few of the traffic back-ups in northern Michigan and
Wisconsin in the summers. A regular moving roadblock.
Mary bounced out of the house. “Ready, Joe?” she asked
brightly. Joe put on his happy face.

“Let’s go, hon. Dad, try not to let Mom spoil the kids,
okay?”

“I can’t promise you anything on that score, Joe,” the
older man said solemnly, before breaking into a grin.
“You two have fun. We’ll be right here when you get
back.”

Joe and Mary climbed back into the mini-van. “I gave
your Mother the cell phone number in case she needed to
call us. I told her we didn’t know if we would spend the
night in Chicago or head home,” Mary said.

“Okay,” Joe answered. “We’re going to stay at that motel
again?”

“I’d like to. It’s more convenient.”

“We bringing anyone back with us to the motel this
time?”

“I… I don’t know,” Mary faltered. “If we do, it won’t
be like last time.”

They had brought a young man, a hitchhiker, back to the
room to do a special job on Mary. After the act, he
showed no inclination to leave. Joe had been overly
patient with him, waiting for Mary to rise up out of her
languor. When she had finally given him a worried look,
he had given the k*d the bum’s rush. He didn’t want
anything like that to happen again.

The time passed uneasily between them as Joe left
Chicago and the ‘burbs behind and they passed through
Gary, Indiana and Michigan City and finally into the
farmlands and fields of Michigan. Mary squirmed in her
seat. Joe caught her out of the corner of his eye.

“Want me to slip out of these shorts for awhile, Joe?”
Mary asked timidly. Joe considered. Acts of automobile
sexuality were very rare with Mary, and he felt the
resultant surge in his pants. But he really didn’t feel
like playing right now. These urges at all times worried him,
because of the possibility of being caught and exposed.

“I’d rather just get to the motel. Maybe we’ll do
something there, hon,” he finally stated. Mary sat back
in her seat, clearly disappointed. Oh well.

At exit 3 of Interstate 94, they left the freeway. Out
of the corner of his eye, he saw Mary shift excitedly in
her seat. Joe turned left, recrossing the highway over
the bridge and cruised into the parking lot of the
Sawyer Motel, a one-story cinderblock motel of
indeterminate age. Not recent, though. Shaped in an “L”,
without pool or restaurant; advertising their air-
conditioned rooms and in-room phones.

“Air-conditioned rooms” had the requisite blue icicles
hanging from each word. In-room movies. Whoopee, wondered
Joe dully. Other than a Marathon gas station, the motel
was the only other building even visible from the
interstate. It at all times seemed to Joe that the only reason
you could enter or exit the freeway around here was so
the farmers would have a way to get on. There was
nothing else around Sawyer, Michigan.

The Sawyer Motel served as a place to sleep for those
travelers who needed inexpensive accommodations for the
night. Fairly close to the backwater Michigan town of
the same name, it seemed to accommodate its fair distribute
of locals looking for a room for their own sexual
enterprises. The place saw only light use and it at all times
seemed like a depressing little dump to Joe. He left
Mary in the van and headed in to get a room. Forty-two
dollars later, Joe came out with the key in his hand.
Mary watched him anxiously from the car.

“I wonder how he feels?” wondered Mary. She watched his
neutral face and posture as he walked back to her. She
felt giddy and hot at the same time. She longed to rub
her legs together or at least rub her groin with her
hand. The URGE was upon her, in full effect. Joe climbed
in without a word and drove about eight doors down to
number thirteen. Parking the car, they both stepped out.
Mary stretched, then grabbed her overnight bag and
waited excitedly for Joe to open the door. Joe unlocked
number thirteen and they stepped inside.

Mary made a great show of being comfortable in the
spare, sparsely furnished room, with it’s old carpeting
and drapes, the motel-quality television hanging from
it’s ceiling bracket. Mary tossed her night bag on the
faded quilt of the double bed and walked eagerly into
the bathroom to pee. She reached under her short skirt
and peeled her panties down, then squatted over the bowl
and let her urine flow. She hated to sit down on these
motel toilets. Fear of germs or something, she figured.
Hard to believe when shortly she’d be letting strangers
put their cocks into her. Lot easier to catch disease
that way, but she still shied away from actually sitting
on the toilets in these motels until she’d had a chance
to clean them. She heard Joe switch the television on.

The unmistakable drone of school football filled the
small motel room. Mary wiped her sex gently and after
dropping her wadded toilet paper into the bowl couldn’t
withstand running a fingernail up and down her slit.
Excited, she kicked the panties off and let her skirt
fall back down. She flushed the toilet and headed out to
see Joe. It was eight o’clock in the evening, and time
to leave for the gloryhole. Time was a wastin’.

“Are you ready to go, Joe?” Mary asked her husband. Joe
looked at her.

His face still a mask.

“I guess, hon.”

“And the same rules?”

“Okay.”

The “Rules” were pretty simple. Joe took Polaroid
pictures of Mary’s activities. He would make some
initial contacts with the strangers and let them know
Mary was available in her bathroom stall. He would take
his cues from her when it came to answering questions
posed by the blunt and distrustful horny men she would
service. And Mary rarely said no to a request.

Mary quietly picked up her bag of supplies and waited on
Joe. He got up off the bed and grabbed his keys and
wallet. They looked at each other uncomfortably before
Joe said quietly and just a bit kindly, “Let’s go, Hon.”
Mary brightened in anticipation and followed eagerly out
the door.

Once more out on the road, Joe dutifully drove back onto
the Interstate, actually heading west, back towards the
state line. At the point he got up to speed, it was
almost time to slow down as the westbound I-94 rest area
loomed off to the right. The parking lot showed about
ten trucks or so, and a smattering of passenger cars.

Michigan was one of those states that errantly provide
twin rest areas on both sides of a divided highway
rather than plunking one down in the center of the
median for use by both directions of travel. These rest
areas, unencumbered by civilian enterprises such as
restaurants and gas stations, were simply long buildings
with bathroom facilities, a small area for travelers to
check their maps against the large one, a dog run area
and a smattering of picnic tables set in the pine trees.

As rest areas go, this one, known as the “Sawyer Rest
Area West” according to a little sign by the payphone,
was lightly utilized. It had the cheap vinyl tiled floor
and fluorescent lighting associated with most
utilitarian rest areas. Most travelers preferred to wait
until Michigan City to get the gas and food they
couldn’t get here. They would wait until Michigan City
to stretch their legs and head to the bathroom. No, this
rest area was mostly utilized by truckers who would
sleep in their cabs until morning before heading back
out on their lonely methods. Or used by travelers whose
bladders simply wouldn’t wait until the state line.

Joe hit the exit and coasted down the long lane leading
into the parking area. Good parking was available right
next to the handicapped spaces out in front of the
building, but Joe avoided it, selecting instead an empty
space farther away with no one around. He parked and
shut the headlights and ignition off. While the warm
engine ticked quietly, Joe turned to his wife. He felt
the combination of revulsion and excitement that he
at all times felt at these things. Going to see my wife get used,
he wondered perilously. Mary looked nice, wearing a black
pullover top, and matching short skirt, which showed off
her short stocky, legs to best benefit.

Mary felt the butterflies in her stomach. She was jumpy
and jittery and her sex seemed swollen and almost
weeping with the excitement. She reached into her bag of
tricks and pulled out the small cylinder of pepper spray
and pressed it into Joe’s hand. Just in case. You never
knew. She sat up primly, her bag in her lap. “Are we
ready, Joe?” she whispered excitedly. Joe almost smiled.
“Let’s go, hon.,” He almost added, ‘let’s get this over
with’, but that would dampen her spirit. They fairly
leapt out of the van, and met each other sheepishly at
the rear of the vehicle. Joe set the car alarm and they
slowly approached the bathrooms.

A family of vacationers were heading out the front
doors, heading back to a recreational vehicle parked
across seven parking spaces reserved for passenger cars.
The group never gave Joe and Mary a second glance. Never
guessed at the things Mary wanted to have done to her.
Inside the information area/lobby of the rest area, Mary
glanced idly at the brochures while Joe went on in to
the bathrooms. One trucker was finishing up brushing his
teeth; his kit bag on the sink next to him. Joe sidled
over to one of the urinals and fished his cock
uncomfortably out of his shorts. He was semi-hard with
all the excitement. And while he waited with his cock
dangling out of his pants, the trucker rinsed his mouth
and gathered up his belongings. Joe followed the trucker
out of the bathroom and nodded to Mary.

Mary cast a quick glance around the large glass windows
of the lobby looking for anyone who might see her enter
the Men’s bathroom. Seeing no one, she scurried in, her
sandals slapping the tiled floor as Joe held the door
open for her. Mary made her way into the last stall, ‘my
stall’, she wondered excitedly, and closed the door
behind her. It was still there. The six-inch by six-inch
hole Joe had cut out and then replaced. He had taped the
square back in place with clear tape minimize the
appearance of damage.

Mary reached into her bag and removed her sanitizing
spray bottle and a cloth rag. She preferred to begin
with a clean stall. She hurriedly sprayed the toilet and
wiped it down. The air filled with a fresh lemon scent
as she quickly cleaned the floor where she would be
kneeling and tossed the filthy disposable rag apart.
Pulling the tape off the opening in the wall, she
inserted a nail file from her bag and pried the square
from her glory hole and set it apart. She cleaned around
her wall opening; made it clean and ready for its
intended purpose. She felt almost giddy. Her pussy felt
loose and wet as she finished her work.

Mary removed the Polaroid camera and set it carefully
apart. Last, but not least, she pulled a rectangular
neoprene kneeling mat out of her bag and set it down on
the floor in front of her glory hole. Now she was ready.
She pulled her top off over her head and folded it
neatly into her bag. She unclasped her bra and pulled it
off. Her tits felt heavy and her nipples tingled
excitedly. Now she was absolutely ready– naked except
for her skirt and sandals.

“I’m ready, Joe,” she called softly.

“Okay,” Joe answered. He took a deep breath. This was
the hard part– selecting the men who wouldn’t mind some
action–the ones who wouldn’t be offended enough to
refuse and then call the State Police. Judging strictly
by appearance which men were alone and which had women
or families waiting for them. Offering his wife to other
men didn’t come easy to Joseph, regardless of the raging
hard-on he would inevitably get. He left the bathroom
and went back out into the lobby.

Looking casually at the wall map, he also scanned the
approaches to the building. He didn’t have long to wait.
An old black man, about fifty or sixty years old
shambled up the sidewalk, his back bent; his work
clothes straight out of Sears and Roebuck. A qualified
candidate if he was eager. As the black man pulled the
glass door open, Joe was already walking back into the
men’s bathroom. He took his place at one of the sinks
and turned the water on. He called urgently to Mary.
“Got one coming–black guy.” The old black guy entered
the bathroom and went to the urinal. Joe watched him
fumble with the front of his pants and fish himself out.
Seconds later, the old guy peed weakly into the urinal.

Mary was sitting on the toilet in exited anticipation.
She stroked her slit lightly, feeling her liquid
excitement; waiting for the moment. She could hear the
gentleman peeing and waited for Joe to make the
approach. Her mouth started to water. A black guy!

Joe tended to use the most direct approach to these men
so they wouldn’t get spooked into thinking he was
offering them a blowjob. His heart in his throat, Joe
approached the black guy as he zipped up.

“My wife is in the last stall. She wants to give you a
blowjob. If you step into the third stall, she’ll do
whatever you want…”

The old black guy goggled at Joe. He looked away and
then up at the ceiling before shuffling past Joe to peer
down the line of stalls. Mary heard Joe’s offer. She
moved her legs towards the door so the man could see her
feet with her painted toenails.

The old black guy turned back on Joe. “Yeah… Yes sir,
I’d like that.”

Joe pointed over to the third stall and the black guy
headed in. Mary slid off the pot and down onto her
cushion. She peered thru the hole. The old black guy
peered curiously at her. “Bring it here,” Mary breathed,
and the old guy responded. He unzipped and pulled his
black cock out. It was a long, uncut, ebony cock of
medium girth. It hung down. The black guy picked his
limp member up with his right hand and stepped up to
Mary’s gloryhole.

Mary watched this gnarled old cock come at her face. She
grasped the limp cock with her right hand and rubbed it
slowly over her cheeks, luxuriating in its warmth. It
responded slightly, growing thicker, but not able to
support itself. Maybe the guy was too old. It didn’t
matter. Mary sniffed him where his cock met his balls.
The old guy’s meat smelled of manly sweat. His cock had
a powerful smell that set Mary off. She skinned his head
back slightly. This was only the second uncircumcised
penis she had ever done. They were a weird turn-on for
her. It was clean under there so Mary put his cock right
into her mouth and started sucking the old black guy.
She would have sucked him if he had been dirty anyway…

Joe opened Mary’s stall door. Her eyes were closed as
she performed, sucking up and down that cock,
lubricating it with her abundant saliva as she worked.
She made a slight motion with two fingers for Joe. He
bent down and picked up the camera. The room was quiet
except for her avid sucking and the old black guy’s
slight moans of enjoyment.

“I’m going to take a picture,” Joe announced quietly for
the old guy’s advantage. He didn’t answer.

Mary pulled the black meat out her mouth. It glistened
dark and heavy and she laid it across her cheek as she
licked back towards his testes. The cock felt good and
warm against her cheek. The head was touching her ear as
the flash went off. She put the meat back in her mouth
and slid two fingers between her legs into her wet gash.
She was close to the brink, waiting only for the man to
come.
Joe pulled the picture off the Polaroid and stuck it in
his shirt pocket.

He waited until Mary’s next signal, which would mean the
guy was coming. Maybe she’d want a picture of him coming
in her mouth; maybe she’d pull it out and have him spray
her face. Or maybe the guy would want something else.
Joe watched his wife sucking the black meat. It hadn’t
gotten very hard, but she was very much into it.

After a time, the black guy suddenly shuffled his feet
and let go with a low moan. Mary tasted something salty
and tangy in her mouth, oozing from his black cock. The
guy was coming and Mary joined him, moaning herself now
as her pussy clamped shut around her fingers several
times. She signaled Joe, who quickly bent and framed the
picture. The flash went off a second time. The black guy
continued a slow dribble into her mouth for ten seconds
before his moans subsided and he was done. Mary let his
cock rest in her mouth until her own orgasm subsided.
Then she pulled his spent dick out of her mouth and
kissed it several times. His dangling black cock was
shiny clean. The guy pulled it back through the hole and
zipped himself back up.

Joe closed the stall door and waited for the black guy
to emerge. The black guy looked at him shyly. “Thanks,
Mister. Tell your woman I appreciated that…” He
shuffled off out the door, leaving Mary and Joe alone.

“Show me the pictures, Joe,” Mary said softly. She sat
back on the toilet, resting. Joe opened the door and
handed both of them to her. She studied them intently.
“Oh that was good. Uncircumcised–it’s just so kinky,
Joe.” He didn’t answer her.

“Ready for the next one, dear,” Mary said as she dropped
the two Polaroids into her bag. They would go into her
BOX at home, and she would masturbate to them later. She
savored the flavor of the black guy in her mouth. And
waited for more.

Joe walked out of the bathroom and lingered some more in
the lobby.

Several men came in, but Joe instinctively knew better
than to ask them. They went into the bathroom and came
out never knowing a woman was in the fourth stall, dying
for someone to pleasure. One had entered the second
stall and had taken a healthy shit while Joe stood by
and Mary cringed in her stall, hardly daring to breathe.
This had happened before. After he finally left, Joe
went back out into the lobby. Finally, two guys
approached, one twice the age of the other. Joe had
watched them jump out of an eighteen wheeler parked out
in the darkness of the parking lot. They were laughing
and joking as they made their way into the Men’s
bathroom. Father and Son? Joe followed them in. They
stood at the urinals and made their water.

Mary heard the two enter, laughing and having a good
time. She heard them piss and heard the roar of the
powerful flushing mechanisms. She gasped when she heard
Joe’s voice. Approaching both of them?

“You guys together?” Joe asked, standing at the sinks.
The older guy, probably in his late forties, looked at
him and nodded brusquely. He’d probably seen everything
at the truck stops and rest areas in his time. The
younger man, in his early twenties, watched alertly,
waiting for signals from his father about how he should
act.

“My wife is in the end stall over there,” Joe pointed.
“She’d like to give you two a blowjob or something, if
you want.” He let the words hang.

“She any good-looking?” the younger one popped out
jokingly. His father looked blankly at him for a second
and then faced Joe. “He don’t mean nothing, Mister. Your
wife wants to give blowjobs?”

“Yes,” Joe answered, keeping his face and voice as
neutral as feasible.

“How much?”

“It’s free,” Joe replied.

“You a cop?” the older trucker asked.

“No, we’re not cops,” Joe answered uneasily.

The older trucker looked back at the younger one. “What
do you say, boy? Interested?”

The younger trucker looked gravely back. “Yeah, that
might be fun.”

“And we don’t go telling no stories when we get home?
Your Ma don’t have to know and your girl don’t find out
neither, right?”

“Right,” the young trucker promised.

The older guy turned to Joe. “We’ll take a piece of
that, partner.”

Mary listened in her stall. Two men at once! A father
and son! She got off the toilet and knelt on her
kneeling pad in front of her gloryhole.

Joe led the two back to the third stall. The guys looked
sheepish, neither one wanting to go first. Joe opened
the fourth stall just a crack and looked at Mary. She
glanced up at him, her face excited.

“How about one in the hole and one in here, Joe?” she
whispered. Joe nodded.

“How about you go into that stall,” he pointed out the
third stall to the younger man, “and you go in there
with her,” he suggested to the older man. “And if anyone
comes in, you guys just freeze. Don’t make a sound,
okay?” They nodded somberly and made their way into the
stalls.

Mary smiled nervously up at the older man as he entered
her stall. He was tall and whipcord thin, wearing Levi
pants and cowboy boots. Carhart jacket and a standard
baseball hat with the name of a truck stop embroidered
on it. He got behind Mary, standing between her legs on
the floor. Mary got up off her knees. The trucker would
need her to lean over. As she stood, a long thin white
pecker came through her hole. The cock of the son. It
was hard as a rock, jutting up obscenely at her. Mary
placed her hands on the wall and put her mouth over the
cock and moaned.

Already she was heating up again. She felt the older man
position himself behind her and flip her short skirt up
onto her back, exposing her hindquarters. As she
engulfed the son’s cock, she heard the father’s undoing
his belt and unzipping himself. A moment later, his
pants were down at his ankles and she grasped her hips
as she sucked his son. The father’s penis nudged
insistently at the outside of her pussy and then,
finding her pussy, pushed itself inside her. Mary
groaned around the cock in her mouth. So good.

Joe watched from outside the stall for a few moments and
then fished the Polaroid out of the stall with his foot.
He framed the shot of his wife being boned by the father
while she sucked the son through the hole in the wall.
He took the shot. The flash exploded in the stall and
the two cocks invading his wife froze for a moment.

“Don’t worry guys. She just likes the pictures,” Joe
explained. The two men resumed inside of Mary.

Mary felt the father driving into her from behind. It
felt like his cock was as long as his son’s and wider
yet. He filled her good, bumping up against her butt
cheeks as he took his pleasure in her. Mary licked,
sucked and teased the son’s cock, her head occasionally
bumping lightly against the wall from the father’s
thrusts behind her. She loosened up her throat and let
the young penis all the way into her mouth. She buried
the young man in her warm mouth. Right up to his balls,
which dangled lewdly on her chin. The young man was
doing some moaning of his own.

They continued at a rapid pace for the next three
minutes, the only sounds in the room the harsh breathing
of the two men, the wet sucking that Mary performed and
the squishy sound of her pussy being pummeled by the
father’s cock. Joe watched, his penis rock hard inside
his pants. He rubbed it a little. This was the worst
part–the guilty excitement he felt watching his wife go
at it with other men. It didn’t seem right, but Lord, it
made him stiff.

The younger man’s hands reached up and grasped the top
of the stall walls. “I’m ready, ma’am. I’m ready!” Joe
got the camera ready again. Mary pulled her mouth off
the boy, and stroked his wet penis quickly and firmly,
bending it down a little to her face.

“Come on, cum for me. In my face,” she coaxed him. The
old guy let up a minute behind her to peer over her
back. Mary stroked the gloryhole cock as the young man
began to squirt his semen. The first blast struck her
hair and dripped richly down her forehead. The flash of
the Polaroid went off. The second squirt caught her
right on her mouth and cheeks. Mary moved in closer and
the rest of his ejaculate hit her neck and shoulders and
leaked down onto her chest. When his shower was over,
Mary took him back into her mouth.

His cum tasted rich and slightly tangy. Exquisite. She
sucked him gently until he was too sensitive to
continue. He backed off and said, “okay, that’s fine
ma’am, I’m done.” He pulled back out of the hole. Mary
rested her splattered face against the wall as the
father took back up his duties in her pussy. He wasn’t
long. Now that her face was away from the hole in the
wall he pounded away in her pussy.

“Okay, okay, here it comes. Here it comes…” He
grunted.

Mary stood up, the father’s cock pulling out of her. She
whirled around and dropped quickly to her knees. She
grasped his manhood, wet and slimy from her pussy and
inched closer to him, stroking him. “C’mon big guy. Give
it to me. Right here on my tits.” The older man moaned
as she manipulated him to orgasm. He let out a series of
grunts and pumped his load out. Mary took it on her
chest; his thin, slightly yellowed sperm striking her
and dripping down her stomach. The old guy did an
admirable job emptying himself on her. Mary rubbed his
cock on her nipples, coaxing more of his ejaculate from
him. The stall reeked of his seed. Mary brought her head
down to his cock and took him in. His cock tasted of her
pussy, which was quite all right. His spunk tasted
strong and slightly rank to her, but it only increased
the sense of lewdness.

She used one finger to collect a glob of him from her
right breast and used it to stimulate her clit. It felt
good and Mary had an orgasm while voraciously suckling
the father’s cock while she used his seed to lubricate
her clit. She felt weak in the knees as she finally
released the spent penis from her mouth.

Looking wearily at the door of the stall she could see
her husband, Joe and the younger man staring wide-eyed
at her. The father reached down and pulled his pants up,
probably embarrassed to be so naked in front of his son.
Mary got back up, the strings of gooey semen running
down her body. What a feeling! She sat back down on the
toilet as the father left the stall.

Outside her stall, the two truckers looked somewhat
abashed. The older man finally said, “Well… thanks
friend. We sure had a nice time. Your wife knows how to
treat a man. Let’s go, Boy.” The son nodded in solemn
agreement. They walked out of the bathroom.

Joe went into stall four. “You okay, Mary?”

“Oh, Joe. That was really something. Look at me–I’m a
mess! That was wild! Do you think they were father and
son?” Mary contemplated the semen on her body, idly
rubbing and spreading it to cover herself in a
glistening nacreous patina of goo. From her shoulders
and breasts and onto her stomach with its little stretch
marks. Her nipples were erect. The stall smelled from
their liquid gifts to her.

“I’m sure they were. The older one told him, ‘don’t tell
your Ma’. They had to be related. Anyway, I’m ready,
honey.” Joe’s cock was so hard that it hurt. He wanted
to add his load to the rest. Mary looked up at him
lovingly.

“I’d love that Joe. Let me do you. And I want you to
shoot on me. In my hair and on my face, okay?”

“Okay,” Joe agreed, starting to unzip his zipper.

“Take your pants all the way off, Joe. I want to do you
that way.”

Joe hesitated. The last thing he wanted was to have both
of them totally naked in case someone walked in. But he
was raging hard and the wondered seemed exciting. He
kicked his shoes off and dragged his pants down to his
ankles and stepped out of them. He looked at his cum-
soaked little wife as she smiled through the spunk of
her face. Other men’s leavings. He could never kiss her
that way, but the wondered at all times seemed bounce around in
his brain.

“Put your leg up on the wall, Joe,” she urged him. He
placed his right foot high on the wall and Mary scooted
in close to him. He felt the electricity as she handled
his stiff cock. She stroked him gently and applied her
warm mouth to his balls, enveloping them separately and
swishing her tongue around them longingly. It’s never
like this at home, Joe wondered excitedly. She is so good
when we’re here.

Mary then rose up slightly and took his cock in her
mouth. She worked him expertly, coating him liberally
with her saliva as her mouth worked slowly up and down
his shaft. Joe felt his balls tighten up. Mary used her
fingers on his scrotum, lightly scratching her
fingernails against his sac. Joe was in heaven. She was
devouring him, c*****g herself on his shaft repeatedly,
gagging herself intentionally as she tried to bury his
cock down her throat; making loud and obscene gulping
sounds that rang out in the tiled bathroom.

Mary pulled her mouth off him and started to stroke his
wet cock with her right hand. She dove slightly under
him and used her left hand to part his cheeks. She loved
doing things like this when she was here. She buried her
nose behind his balls. The smell was intoxicating. She
launched her tongue out and it struck Joe’s butt hole.
Making contact, Mary started to lick his ass while she
stroked him. Joe was beside himself–Mary could feel it.
His butt hole opened as Mary prodded it with her tongue.
She laved him, licking and forcing her tongue into his
most intimate place. He groaned as her hand worked him
to orgasm. Her mouth wetted everything in its path. Joe
couldn’t stand it any longer. “I’m coming.”

Mary backed out and faced up to Joe. “C’mon. C’mon.
Right in my face. In my hair. Give it to me.” She
stroked his raging cock, kneeling in front of him. Joe
exploded on her, just where she wanted it. She felt it
land in her hair twice and then pulled his cock down.
With her eyes closed, she aimed him at her face, milking
his semen onto her forehead and eyebrows. Joe seemed to
go on forever and she rubbed him furiously on her smooth
skin.

Joe felt his legs shaking. Mary could really bring the
best out of him. What a money shot, he wondered, as he
looked down and watched his loving wife masturbating him
onto her face. The face that she presented to the world.
The face he and the c******n kissed goodnight. The face
of the suburban soccer mom, drenched in the sperm of
three men inside a restroom off the interstate.
Mary buried his spent member into her mouth and cleaned
him off, finally releasing him from her sucking mouth
with an audible pop and a smile for her man. “Did you
like that, Joe?”

Joe smiled weakly, wanting more than ever, now that the
deed was done, to get his clothes back on. Sated, he
felt like a good nap. But they couldn’t leave yet. Mary
wasn’t done; cum-drenched as she was, she wasn’t
finished yet. “I liked it, Hon. It was great.” Mary let
him go and Joe scrambled back into his pants and yanked
his shoes back on. Mary got up and sat back on her
porcelain throne, idly patting her hair and forehead,
distributing his spend evenly on her skin. Her eyebrows
glistened wetly when she was finished, and they both
could smell her victories. She looked radiant–happier
than Joe had seen her in a long time. He snapped a few
Polaroids and handed them to her to show her how much
ejaculate she had accumulated thus far.

Joe finished dressing and stepped out of the confined
bathroom stall. He hadn’t even returned to equilibrium
when the bathroom door banged open and a burly young
white guy stomped in. Another trucker, to judge by his
old Cat ball cap and his dirty old Carhart jacket. About
five foot ten and at least 270 pounds on a large hairy
frame. The guy clomped heavily over to the urinal and
fished a fucking whopper out of his pants. Joe waited
until he was finished and put the sales pitch to him.
The bear didn’t even blink at Joe’s offer. Just shuffled
heavily over to the stall Joe pointed out and shambled
in.

Mary heard Joe’s pitch and she knelt down on her pad in
front of her hole. As the bear entered the adjacent
stall, Mary looked through the glory hole. The guy was
big–real big. Not in perfect shape or anything–just a
massive hairy guy. The guy dropped his Levis down to his
knees and bent down to peer through the slot at Mary.
“Ready?” he rumbled. Mary nodded shyly at him.
“Anything, right? That’s what your hubby said, right?”
Mary nodded again.

The trucker straightened up and pulled his dingy
underwear down his hips, freeing a dangling thick penis.
Mary was surprised at the length and girth of it as the
guy played idly with himself, stroking his length
roughly, preparing it for duty. As Mary watched
mesmerized, the guy brought his right hand up to his
mouth and spit loudly and copiously into his palm. He
returned his wet hand back to his groin and lubricated
his dick. Mary was stunned at the act and her pussy
fluttered as she watched him apply spit to his meat.

Joe heard the guy undressing and heard him ask Mary if
“anything” was the deal or not. Heard the guy spit
loudly, like an echoing rifle shot in the tile-lined
bathroom. Joe stepped forward with the Polaroid camera
and caught the guy as he stroked himself. The bear never
flinched. It would be a good “before” picture that Mary
would love. This guy was well hung–fucking massive
actually, Joe wondered. And Joe heard the guy as he told
Mary that he wanted her butt.

Mary watched as the guy bent down to her hole and
appraised her again. “Turn around-I want your behind. I
want to buttfuck you, lady,” the trucker growled. Mary
stared at him uncomprehendingly. “Turn around and spread
your cheeks and back up to the hole,” the trucker
cajoled her. Mary flinched. Should she, heck, could she
even take this guy in her behind? It was a way she
hadn’t given up to anyone but Joe.

The few times she had been asked during these gloryhole
urges she had immediately refused the request without
even thinking twice about it. But this big guy with his
log of a penis? His spitting on himself had excited her
terribly and weakened her resolve. And what about a
rubber?

Mary at all times carried rubbers for those she deemed likely
to harbor disease-she did little extra tricks for those
she made wear rubbers. But she didn’t want this guy
wearing a rubber-she wanted him bareback. And she
decided that she wanted him back there.

“Okay,” she whispered, getting up and turning her back
to him. She bent down and backed up to the hole, using
her hands to raise her short skirt and spread her full
butt cheeks against the cold, thin, metal-clad
pressboard partition. Her anus felt horribly wide and
exposed to the stranger.

Joe was watching thru the door of the stranger’s stall
and realized that Mary intended to let this guy buttfuck
her–something no stranger had done to her. He hoped she
would be all right–this guy was big and when Mary was
excited she tended to make some bad decisions. And he
knew that she had decided not to make the bear wear
protection while he ravaged her most private orifice.
Joe’s own penis awakened from its rest to surge inside
his underwear and he felt the resultant flash of guilty
pleasure.

Suddenly the bathroom door surged open, rattling the
suspended ceiling tiles with the force. A young man,
probably a good prospect if Mary wasn’t already
committed, entered the bathroom. Joe hurriedly adjusted
his zipper as though he had just walked out of one of
the stalls. He went to the sink and washed his hands.
The young man urinated at one of the urinals. The
occupied stalls were deathly silent, the only sound
coming from the sink Joe was using. Thank God, the man
hadn’t chosen to use one of the four bathroom stalls. He
might have picked one of the occupied ones.

A couple of urges ago, they had been interrupted in just
such a way while Mary was being banged in a stall. Some
guy had came in and headed right to the stall next to
where Mary was entertaining. He had shucked his pants
down and sat down to a loud and lusty shit, his sounds
and smells filling all the available space. Mary had
found this near discovery highly erotic, although the
smells and sounds she could have easily done without.

But this stranger was content to urinate and leave
without washing his hands. Once more, the room rang with
silence.

“All clear,” Joe announced. He heard scuffling in the
stalls and went back to the stranger’s stall and peered
in.

Mary bent back over, her skirt resting up on her back,
and offered her bottom to the stranger on the other side
of the thin wall, peeling her cheeks aside and placing
them on either side of the opening. She was as ready as
she would ever be.

Joe watched the stranger spit in his hand again and
begin massaging his cock and balls. His penis jutted
like an angry red pole. The bear bent over and
considered Mary’s ass; her anus a light pink star framed
by the square hole. The bear got down on his haunches.
Mary felt a jet of warm air near her butt hole and had
just enough time to realize that the stranger’s face was
near her butt when the stranger spit on her anus. The
loud sound echoed in Mary’s head as she felt a massive gob
of saliva strike her right in the center of her brown
eye. Her pussy spasmed and her anus winked in shock-she
was so disturbed and turned on at the same time. How
could spitting make her so horny? She had never even
conceived of such a thing. The saliva clung wetly to her
asshole.

The bear stood up and inched closer to the wall. When he
was eight inches away, his cock head touched Mary’s
slippery anus. She felt him contact her, the blunt head
pushing insistently against her. She spread her feet
slightly to maintain her balance and held her ground as
the stranger advanced.

Joe watched the stranger put his hands on the top of the
stall walls and ease his hips forward. His belly
pancaked against the partition wall as he proceeded
forward. His angry red cock was disappearing through the
hole trying to bull its way into Mary’s guts. Joe wormed
in behind the guy and snapped another pic from the side,
capturing the moment the guy’s bulbous cockhead
disappeared into Mary. He could hear her groan loudly in
discomfort. Joe left the stall and peeked in at his wife
as she bent over, presenting her butt to the wall. Her
eyes were screwed closed and her face was taut with
effort. Her mouth was frozen open in a grim rictus of
pain and discomfort.

Mary felt her dirt channel withstand as the hammerhead of
cock f****d its way into her entrails. She willed
herself to stay still and not move away from the wall as
the stranger impaled her on his cock. It hurt despite
the lubrication the stranger had provided to her. She
felt stuffed back there and could not suppress her moans
of distress. She panted loudly, as though she was
birthing. The stranger halted halfway inside her and
rested a moment. Then he began to work himself in and
out of Mary, his penis battering it’s way past her anus,
fitting itself farther and farther inside her snug dark
channel. Mary teetered at the edge of pulling herself
off the guy’s rod and promising to do something else to
get him off. Her butt burned and it felt like the guy
was splitting her in two.

She felt stuffed to the point of tearing and a cramped
bloated feeling in her guts. But her clitoris was
buzzing a bit from the pain and Mary resolved to try and
ride it out for a while. She played lightly with her
clit, trying to concentrate on her pleasure instead of
the gut-wrenching feeling as the stranger bottomed out
in her. Mary felt the despair of steady burning
discomfort as his penis lay unmoving in her rectum.
Which would be worse, the full length buried her or the
pressure from that cock sawing in and out of her?

Mary found herself focusing on the feeling the waves of
pain gave her. Found herself thinking about the obscene
spitting and how randy and wet that made her. Focused on
how plugged her behind felt and how it must look to Joe.
How the guy must feel and how proud she was that she
could accommodate such a weapon inside her bottom. She
was surprised by the sound of her own panting mingling
with the grunts of the bear as he rooted around in her
ass mercilessly.

The stranger shuffled his feet to achieve new leverage
against her and began to bang her with long, hard
strokes, his long, thick penis pulling completely out,
leaving her gaping open emptily for an instant and then
slamming his whole length back into her with punishing
force.

Mary groaned anew–each exit left her feeling like she
would shit helplessly right there on the floor in front
of the men; each entrance plowing fresh pain into her as
her ass struggled to accommodate this attack. Her lower
digestive tract churned and she even felt a bit
nauseous. She considered giving up again–this was too
much. How long had it been? It had to be two minutes
now, long enough. When would he cum?

Joe watched the tableau. His wife groaned as the
stranger savagely butt-fucked her. Joe knew the rules.
He wasn’t supposed to interfere. So he just watched, in
slight disgust and revulsion as the seconds turned into
minutes and the stranger, openly puffing and gasping
with exertion now, continued to pummel Mary’s behind. So
Joe did what he was supposed to do. Which was to simply
document the event with Polaroid pictures. Finally, the
quality of the stranger’s breathing changed to a quick
gasp and he redoubled his strokes inside Mary. She felt
him slamming her twice as fast and prayed that he was
gonna finish.

And then as the stranger came to a stop lodged far up
her bowel and she heard him keen a low extended moan.
Oooh, she felt it now. Warm jets of gluey semen pulsing
deep inside her intestinal tract as the stranger emptied
himself far up her butt. And Mary was able to stroke
herself lightly and cum a few short ones herself,
dwelling on the feeling of such a monster cumming in
her. The stranger gave a few additional slow strokes
inside her ass, to amplify his orgasm. Mary felt the
cock expand in her and the inside of her ass got wetter.
She burned back there and she knew feel that the
delicate membranes of her anus had swollen a darker red
and that she would be feeling this ass-fuck every time
she sat down. Even now she felt an empty achy void back
there.

With a final shudder and a gasp, the bear came to rest
inside Mary, and then slowly backed out. Mary felt the
invader leaving her and struggled to close her gaping
ass. She didn’t want to shit on the floor. The flash of
the Polaroid exploded as the stranger got clear of her
backside. That’s one for the photo album, she wondered
weakly. Mary groaned with the effort to control her
once-sufficiently tight musculature. She slowly turned
and sat shakily down on her neoprene pad on the floor.
The stranger’s penis, wet and angry confronted her. Joe
had opened her stall door.

Mary, the consummate performer went for the finale. She
beckoned to the stranger to step back up to the wall.
Mary grasped his exhausted penis and brought herself up
to it. At least it didn’t have any of her shit on it. At
least not obviously. A generous dollop of semen was
lodged just behind the rim of that majestic cockhead.
Mary nodded to Joe and placed the cock against her cheek
for a picture. And then licked and finally sucked the
semen off the big purplish plum head of the stranger’s
cock, which had been in her vitals just moments before.
Her nose picked up the earthy offal taste of her bowels
on the man’s penis as Joe finished the pack of film. She
gave the strangers penis one last kiss and let it go.

The stranger contemplated her as he stepped heavily back
and began to dress. He seemed like he wanted to say
something, but for some reason he remained quiet. Mary
sat back down, her legs tucked tiredly under her. She
felt semen leaking out of her ass onto her left ankle
tucked under her. She felt exhausted and satisfied with
the night’s activities. Maybe they should go back to the
motel room now.

That was five penises now, including Joe’s. Her URGE was
sated. She sat on the floor resting her arms on the
toilet. The stranger dressed and left the men’s room.
Joe watched Mary idly, waiting to see what she wanted to
do.

The bathroom door banged open and three laughing young
white males entered, pushing and shoving each other in a
frenzy of young macho mock violence. They blasted past
the urinals and the sinks, stopping in a heap around
Joe. One of them opened the stall door before Joe could
even react. The boys, who appeared to be in their late
teens or early twenties, peered around him to see Mary
sitting on the floor of the stall topless, covered head
to toe with the semen of five grown men. Mary looked up,
shocked by the sudden commotion and the opening of her
stall door.

Stunned, she saw the boys staring incredulously at her.
She squealed and covered her breasts with her hands and
turned her hips away from their view. She was mortified
at being caught naked and cum-splattered like that in
front of these boys. She felt her face redden in
embarrassment.

“We heard there was something going on in here,” one of
the boys said, “the old black guy told us.” The k*d had
a comically sincere look on his acne-ridden face. His
black hair was short except for a shock of hair in front
which constantly fell down over his forehead. “We don’t
want to hurt you or anything-we just want to see what’s
going on.”

“Sweet,” the second one chimed in as he studied Joe’s
wife. A brown-haired small guy about five foot six and
he couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred and thirty
pounds. Cute.

“Yeah,” the third one agreed. He was tall, about six
foot three and skinny as a rail. His head of hair was
razor cut down to short blond stubble and his head and
sharp nose made him resemble an ostrich.

“He told us you were doing things–sex things. We would
like to get in on some of that if we could,” the first
boy finished lamely, addressing himself both to Joe and
Mary, uncertain of whom to petition.

“Gee, guys…” Joe began, “you’re all kind of young…
And we were just getting ready to leave…”

“That’s right,” Mary whispered. Their youth was
intimidating to her. She keenly felt past her prime. She
felt conscious of the flaws of her body, the stretch
marks at the sides of her breasts from the babies and
the way her stomach must appear with it’s little marks
and belly button frown. And the drying goo all over her
body.

“We’re in our twenties,” the first boy protested. “We’re
all twenty,” he amended, “we go to college at State.”
That’s old enough,” he insisted. “We’d like to… give
you a try.”

“Yeah,” chimed the other two enthusiastically. Mary
blushed anew and wondered about the situation. Should
she? They seemed so young. “I’m thirty-six, boys. Isn’t
that too old for you?” she asked honestly.

“My Mom is thirty-eight,” the second one offered. Mary
cringed inwardly.

“Yeah Dude, and your Mom is hot. Like this lady,” the
tall one laughed.

The slight one pushed him. “Don’t talk about my Mom like
that, fucker.”

“I’d fuck your Mom in a heartbeat, Dude. Why do you
think I’m always going to your house? It’s not because I
want to see you-it’s cuz I just want to get close to
your Mom!” the tall one grinned.

The little guy pushed him again and then regarded Mary.
“So can we?” He was so small and cute. His big blue eyes
regarded her hopefully.

“So who is first?” Mary said slowly and cautiously
drawing her hands down and offering the boys a full view
of her breasts as she clambered to her feet and moved
her neoprene mat away from the partition wall. She
centered it on the floor of the stall and removed her
skirt, consciously sucking her little pooched tummy in
as she stood there naked for their devouring eyes.

Her butthole still ached emptily. “One of you watches
the door. I don’t want anyone coming in and catching us.
And one of you at a time in here. My husband takes
pictures. Now if you’ll give me a moment of privacy,
I’ll get ready.” With that, Mary shut the stall door and
removed her skirt. She lay down on her mat with her head
at the base of the toilet. Tight quarters in here.

Her spread legs faced the door of the stall. She briefly
felt her pussy lips and clit. She felt good lying here,
though it was chilly down here at floor level. She
touched her anus gently, feeling the sore, swollen ring.
No one else was going there tonight, she wondered. She
spread her thighs and peeled her vagina lips aside. She
fingered herself idly and then self-consciously placed
her wet finger in her mouth. It tasted of her and
slightly of the father trucker. The randy feeling was
back. She was getting wet all over again. “I’m ready,”
she called gently under the stall door.

Mary heard the whispered discussion of the boys and saw
the Nikes of the first boy, the black shock-haired young
man, trot to the door of the men’s room to stand
lookout. Then Joe opened her stall door. Mary looked
out. The tall thin young man stared between Mary’s legs.
He backed off, looking uncertain and even scared. He
apparently wasn’t even gonna watch his friend. The
smaller guy with the puppy dog eyes, came shyly forward
and waited. Mary knew from his trepidation that he had
little or no experience with girls or women and she felt
a motherly tug at her heartstrings.

The young man tugged his shorts and underwear off in one
bunch and kicked them off his feet. He stood there
sporting a stiff five-inch penis, small, but not so
small for his frame. He stared down intently at Mary’s
closely-shorn pubic patch and her pussy. He dropped down
to his knees between Mary’s legs and continued to study
her genitalia. “Wow,” he breathed to himself. Then,
placing a hand on the mat at each side of Mary, he
assumed a classic push-up position over her cum-
splattered torso.

His penis bumped blindly around at the top of her
vagina. Mary reached down between them and pushed his
penis down to her hole. The boy pushed again and he
slipped inside Mary’s warm depths. His eyes went wide in
surprise and Mary believed he had entered his first
woman. “It really is like warm apple pie,” he breathed,
slowly stroking himself in and out of Mary’s pussy. She
smiled at him.

“Come on, tiger. Do me,” she cooed at him to spur him
on. The boy needed no further encouragement. His thrusts
sped up, his cock filling her snugly. He slowly lowered
himself onto her wet chest, and she hugged him lightly
to her, this intimacy exciting. All of the sudden, she
felt his lips on hers and his insistent tongue force its
way into her mouth. She responded with an excited moan;
her tongue doing swordplay with his; secretly hoping he
didn’t notice anything unusual about the taste of her
mouth. He kissed her with the unskilled passion of the
neophyte, and she kissed back, thrilled by his
enthusiasm. He rode her and she fucked back against him,
coaxing him to orgasm. He sped up even faster and gasped
into her face.

“Do you want-inside or out?”

“In me, tiger. Fill me up,” she told him. She felt warm
and slightly sweaty from her exertions and the young man
atop her. He stiffened and groaned and she felt him
shoot his goo into her pussy. He spurted and spurted
inside her, coating her and himself with his spend.
Finally he rested on her, his cock still in her wet
channel. He regarded her solemnly.

“Did you-I mean…you know…?”

“Of course I did, honey. You were good.” She told him
truthfully. She hadn’t come, but his freshness was
touching and exciting to her. The boy pulled out of
Mary, and she felt his warm semen begin pool at the
mouth of her sex. The Polaroid flashed on his weakening
cock coated with its wet, creamy spend juxtaposed
against her leaking snatch. “Thank-you,” she told him
humbly.

“Thank-you,” he gushed, rising off of her to quickly
dress himself. Gathering his shoes, he stumbled out of
the stall, leaving Mary laying there waiting for her
second young man.

Joe leaned in and snapped another picture of Mary as she
sat there leaking from her latest gentleman. He backed
out as the second one, the tall, skinny one entered. He
watched as the boy and Mary sized each other up
anxiously.

“I want a BJ instead. I can’t do sloppy seconds, okay?”

“Okay,” Mary answered, getting up on her hands and
knees. She moved parallel to the youth. All the better
for Joe to get the pictures. This night was turning out
to be a treasure and she would have a lot of memories
preserved on film. The boy simply dropped his pants and
underwear down to his feet and stroked himself
unconsciously. His penis was of medium size and, like
the rest of him, thin as a rail. It was hard as a rock
and jutting up towards his bellybutton.

Mary scooted up next to him and placed her hands on his
cock and balls. “I’ll take over from here.” The youth
dropped his hands off his meat and Mary bent his cock
down from his belly and began to stroke and knead his
manhood. The boy leaned his head back and closed his
eyes, struggling to spread his feet for balance. Mary
took his cock into her warm mouth and fellated him,
rubbing the underside of her tongue against his
sensitive frenum as sucked.

She was actually salivating as she blew him, as though
she were hungry. The boy moaned and Mary felt little
jolts of excitement. She used one hand to ply the
sensitive bud between her legs. It felt wonderful. She
loved this boy’s response. His cock was wet with her
saliva as she released him from her mouth. She moved
down to his nuts, cocking her head sideways to lick and
nibble, sucking his sack and balls and stroking his
rampant cock lightly with her hands as she worked him.
The Polaroid flashed on them both.

Judging by the inarticulate sounds the young man made,
he wouldn’t last long she knew. He was flexing his legs
and rocking from one leg to the other as he prepared to
shoot his wad. Mary herself came in small waves of
orgasm from the sheer excitement of it all. Sated, she
inserted her right index finger in her squishy pussy and
sloshed it around. Planting her mouth back on the boy’s
cock, she reached around the boy and slowly wormed her
finger into his anus and pressed until her finger was
embedded to the second joint in him. He groaned in
response, whether in discomfort or pleasure she didn’t
know.

“Come on, honey. Come on. In my mouth,” she instructed
him before diving face first back onto his cock. She
sucked him furiously.

“Shit, shit, shit,” the boy moaned, “here, here it
comes, here it comes…”

Mary felt his anus contract around her finger and felt
the flavors in her mouth change to a salty, slightly
bleachy taste as he spasmed inside of her mouth. He shot
four big looping jets of warm semen onto her tongue, his
hips bucking at her and her face riding his groin. It
was fun, she wondered as she tasted his offering and
started to swallow the accumulated spend and excess spit
in her mouth. She moaned luxuriously so the boy would
know how much she appreciated the taste of his juice-she
didn’t want him to have any questions on that score.

Joe watched as his wife moaned. She had told him before
that the act of a man cumming in her mouth was a massive
turn-on for her. She liked the wondered of being able to
coax them to shoot off just by using her mouth. He
snapped another pic dutifully. The boy’s cock must have
finally gotten ultra-sensitive because he backed away
from Mary.

“That was so fucking good,” he gushed enthusiastically,
“that was just so fucking good…”

“I’m glad you liked it. You have a beautiful taste
sweetie,” she said blushingly.

The boy blinked at her incredulously and then smiled
sheepishly. “Thanks.”

The third boy, the black-haired one, entered the stall.
His buddies had moved off, guarding the door to the
men’s while they chattered excitedly in low tones about
their experiences. The youth dropped his shorts and
kicked them off, along with his shoes. Don’t kids wear
underwear anymore? Mary thought as she spied his rigid
penis jutting out of a hairy groin. Mary slowly laid
back down on her mat and the boy knelt between her
spread legs.

He didn’t waste time on niceties. His penis speared
Mary’s cum-filled snatch and he commenced to fuck her on
the floor, boning her with short fast strokes that kind
of took the wind out of her as he rested on his elbows
above her. He did the classic push-up position over
Mary, resting is weight on his arms; his body never
touching hers except where their organs met. His face
was near hers-his eyes were closed in concentration. She
watched his face as he worked inside her. The stall was
filled with the sound of him exerting himself and the
slap of his groin meeting hers. Joe snapped a Polaroid.

Soon Mary felt his strokes reaching deeper and faster
into her. She reached out and grasped the young man’s
buttocks with both hands and helped drive him down into
her. He was pile-driving her now and she raised her butt
cheeks off the mat to enhance his fuck.

“Where do you want it huh? In you or on you?” he panted.

“Pull out and shoot on me,” she whispered, releasing her
hands from his ass-cheeks. The youth gasped and popped
his boner out of Mary. He shot streamers of white goo
onto her stomach and chest and then rubbed himself
furiously up and down her pubic triangle, coaxing his
spend out, shooting dying spurts up to fill her navel
with his sperm. “Yes, yes, that’s it,” she coaxed him,
watching him excitedly. She felt so randy-she and Joe
would have to fuck once more back at the motel just to
help her unwind from this evening. She had loved these
young men. The boy finally came to his senses and backed
off Mary, admiring his handiwork. Mary watched his eyes
as she idly trailed her index finger through his
ejaculate. She fished around in her belly-button and
then put the creamy digit into her mouth. The boy
goggled at her.

“Shit you’re hot, lady,” he gasped. “You’re really hot!”

She blushed in appreciation. The boy rose shakily to his
feet and dressed as Mary rested. The semen on her belly
and chest slowly cooled as she waited. Finally, the boy
left the stall and she heard them outside slapping high
fives as they exited the bathroom. Joe peered in and
then snapped a pic of his cum-spattered wife.

“You ready, hon?”

“Yes,” Mary answered, rising tiredly to her feet and
slipping her skirt back on. She put her bra in her bag
and pulled her shirt over her head. The fabric clung to
her skin where the wet deposits of spunk were. She felt
sated. She packed up her gear and carefully replaced the
missing piece of the wall.

“I’m ready, Joe. And thanks. I really appreciate this,
Honey.”

Joe looked away and then slowly looked back at his
pretty wife’s face, shiny in places, and crusty in
others. Time to tell her.

“I just want you to know. I kind of like it, too. Mary.
It’s kind of a turn-on for me.”

Shocked, Mary stared at him. “You…you like it, Joe?
Really? Then its ok?” she asked hopefully.

“Yeah. I guess its okay. I thought it might bother you
if you knew I liked seeing you with those men. It does
bother me, it really does, but it also gets me going,
too. It’s pretty exciting to see you in action. Anyway,
I love you Mary.”

“Oh, I love you too, Joe. Let’s go back to the room and
look at our pictures. I think there’s only one cock I’d
like to revisit and it’s one I’m really hot for right
now.”

Holding hands, they strolled companionably out of the
Men’s room. Joe Savior and his Glory Hole Wife.