The attached work of fiction is intended to be entertainment for adults in locations where it is
legal.  If it is illegal in your location, DO NOT read.  This is a copyrighted work.  Reposting or
any other use strictly prohibited without the express, written permission of the copyright holder,
except may be posted as part of a review or posted to free-access, noncommercial archive sites. 

My works can be found at ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/E.Z.Riter or at www.storiesonline.net 

Copyright September 2000 by E. Z. Riter. 

E-mail address: ezriter@hotmail.com      

Please!        Give me your comments!

Dear Reader: As always, thanks to Ruthie for her invaluable assistance with my little tale.  E.Z.


MRS. BROWN

"The temperature's ninety-seven.  It's another scorcher, folks," the radio blared from the back
porch.  

Jean Brown lay face down on the beach towel by the swimming pool in her back yard.  She
released the bows holding her bikini top in place and pulled her brown hair up to let the sun tan
her neck. 

Because of the rock and roll thumping from the radio, she didn't hear the click of the gate lock as
two men entered the yard. They stopped to admire her.

Jean was thirty-nine and the mother of three, but you'd never know it by looking at her. Her legs
were lean and long, her ass high and hard, her waist relatively narrow, all from hours of aerobics
and attention to diet.  Her breasts were a perfect C cup. 

Her face, hidden from men's view, was her best feature.  Alive with smiles and twinkling eyes, it
revealed a sexy and intelligent woman, a woman who enjoyed her life and its pleasures. 

"She's always made my cock hard," one of the men whispered to the other.

"Me, too," was the reply.

"Hi, Mrs. Brown," one sang out.

Jean Brown jerked up to see who called her.  Gracefully, she pivoted with her back toward them
and refastened her top.  The thong bottoms revealed her shapely ass before she slipped on the
coverup and stood.  She wrapped the towel around her like a sarong and tucked it in. 

"Don't you boys know how to knock?" she asked as she walked toward them.  

"We rang the bell, but there wasn't an answer," one of them said. 

Her eyes flickered down them.  Twenty-one-year-old twins with shocks of light brown hair and
blue eyes over boyish grins, they were a little more than six feet tall, with the muscled hardness
of weightlifting and swimming.  They wore only skin-tight biking shorts.     

"Hello, Jeremy.  Hello, Jason," she said, giving each a hug and polite social kiss on the cheek. 
"You know the girls aren't here, so why are you?"  

"We wanted to talk to you."

"We've got a problem we need to discuss." 

"Let's sit in the shade.  Do you want some lemonade?" Jean asked.

"Please."  

A lounger and two folding chairs were on the porch.  When Jean returned from the kitchen, the
boys were ensconced in the chairs.  She handed them their lemonades before reclining on the
lounger with her legs tucked under her. She tugged the coverup around her. 

"What's the problem?" she asked.

"Sex." 

"Sex?" Jean snickered.  "Two college studs asking an old married woman for advice about sex? 
What's this world coming to?"

"Please don't laugh, Mrs. Brown.  It's a real problem for us."   

"Do you think you should be discussing sex with the mother of your girlfriends?" Jean asked,
with a warm and sexy smile. 

"This time, you're the only person we can talk to."

"It's a different kind of problem."

"This isn't about my daughters, is it?" she said. 

"What do you mean?"  

"I mean Elaine, Emily, and I discuss everything," she lied.

"Everything?"

"You don't mean it."

"Yes, I do.  Everything," she lied again. 

"Fabulous.  That makes it easier."

"Yeah.  A lot easier.  There are things we didn't know we could discuss with you."

"If we're going to talk about sex, we may as well be open and honest with each other.  After all,
we're almost family," she said.

"That's true.  We're going to marry them, but you know that."

"Yes," Jean said with a warm smile.

"And you're right.  Our problem isn't about them.  They're both dynamite in bed."

"Hot little sex kittens who purr when you stroke them."

"I can't decide which one is best.  I love fucking both of them."

Jean tightened and her eyes widened at this revelation, but she fought to control her emotions and
appear nonplused.

"And they both enjoy fucking us."

She laughed with a hint of nervousness.

The men didn't speak. She looked away, but as her eyes moved to the roses along the edge of the
patio, she saw their erections, flat against their stomachs, outlined in their shorts.  Questions
flitted through her mind.

Jean, her emotions back under control, said, "Now, what's the problem you want to discuss?" 

"It's a question about sexual ethics really."

"Oh, what kind of question," she asked.

"There's a woman."

"A very special woman."

"Yes, a woman who's sexy as hell."

"We want to have sex with her, but we're not sure how to approach her."

"Did it ever occur to you that you're asking your future mother-in-law how to commit adultery?"
Jean asked, frowning at them.

"Oh, come on, Mrs. Brown.  Since Elaine and Emily told you everything, you know they've
agreed that we can have sex with other women when we want to." 

"And that they won't have sex with other men without our permission."  

"We've had other women, but they haven't had other men yet."

Jean nodded.  She couldn't speak at that moment.

"One married woman joined us for a fivesome.  It was awesome.  You should've seen the three
girls making love to each other, but I'm sure the girls told you about it."

The men could tell from her face she was unaware of that adventure. 

"We've had sex with her when Elaine and Emily weren't there, too."

"Does the woman's husband know?" Jean asked. 

"Yes, he does."

"He's a guy who likes to watch his wife fuck other men."

"So we fucked her and let him watch."

"Mrs. Brown, didn't you know some men like to watch their wife have sex?"

"I'd heard about it, but I didn't believe it," she replied. 

"They certainly do."

"We didn't let him watch when it was the five of us, just when we fucked her without Elaine and
Emily there."

"We never told anyone who she is.  We kept it secret."

"We know discretion's the key to having sex with married women.  They're much more likely to
agree if they know no one will find out."

"We are discreet."

"Very discreet.  We've fucked others.  Some are married."

"And some aren't.  No one will ever know."

"It doesn't sound like you need any advice from me.  You two seem to know what you're doing,"
Jean said.   

"This woman's different.  She's older."

"But that only makes us want her more."

"What do you want to ask me?" Jean asked cautiously.

"How should we do it?"

"Approach her, we mean."

"I need a drink.  Would you like something stronger than lemonade?" Jean asked.

"No, thanks."

"Me neither, thanks."

Inside, Jean made a bourbon and water, downed half of it, and refreshed her glass.  When she
returned, she sat back down in the lounger.  Jeremy and Jason pulled their chairs closer to her. 
For a moment, she felt surrounded.  She tugged the towel around her legs.  

"Well?"

"What should we do?"

"Married women usually don't commit adultery and every woman's different.  Since I don't
know her, I'm not sure how I can advise you," Jean said.  

"We know she's had an affair and we know who the man is."

"She may have had more than one."

"She's so sensual and sexy, I can't imagine her not having an affair."

"I can't imagine men not beating down her door."  

"If she did have an affair, do you have any idea why she did it?" Jean asked.  

"Maybe she just enjoys fucking.  She sure looks like she enjoys it."

"Her husband travels a lot.  Maybe it's horniness."

"I think it's because she's all woman."

"She's definitely all woman." 

"You sound like you really want her," Jean said softly. 

"I do."

"Me, too.  I want her as much as any woman I've ever met."

"As much as Elaine or Emily?" Jean asked.

"Yes."

"Definitely yes."

"That doesn't put down our ladies."

"No.  It tells how much we want her."

"She's more mature, more, hell, I don't know."

"Knowing, like she's a font of sexual knowledge."

"Knowledge she's willing to share."

"She's one hell of a woman."

Jean Brown reclined in the lounger and stretched out her legs, crossing them at the ankle.  She
lay her arms on the lounger's arms with her hands dangling from the end. 

"Mrs. Brown, can I borrow your towel, please?"

"Why?" she asked.

"All this sex talk has aroused me and these shorts are too tight.  If I covered myself with the
towel, I could pull off my shorts."

She hesitated and he tugged at the edge of the towel.  She released it where it was tucked in and
raised her hips to let him pull it away. He wrapped the towel around himself, pulled off his
shorts, and kicked them away.

"That feels better."

"Hell, how about me?  My hardon's killing me."

"There are more towels inside," Jean said.  

"There's no need to get up.  Let me have your coverup.  It'll work just fine."  

"I don't know," she said, but their hands were already helping her remove it.  

As they removed her coverup, their fingers dragged across her skin, making it tingle.  She felt the
goosebumps starting near her collarbone and running down her chest. 

When she sat back, she started to cover her breasts with her arms.  She realized she was virtually
naked and in the presence of two virile young men whose genitals were covered by only a thin
piece of cloth.  When she crossed her legs to hide the wetness in the bikini bottoms and forced
herself to lay her arms on the lounger's arms, she was acutely aware the bikini top emphasized
her breasts and hard nipples rather than hiding them.   

She quickly glanced at the tented towel in his lap as he sat back and splayed his legs.  She closed
her eyes and leaned back.  Her skin was prickly, her heart thudding beneath her breasts.  She tried
to fight the desire rising in every fiber of her body. 

"Mrs. Brown?" one of them asked quietly, as he put his hand on her knee.    

"Yes," she replied as she uncrossed her ankles and spread them six inches or so.

"Back to her, to the woman we want so desperately.  We've got other ideas about why she had an
affair with someone else and may have one with us."

"What ideas?" Jean asked.  There was a tinge of unfocused dreaminess in her voice.       

"Maybe she likes big cocks.  We do have big cocks and some women think that's important. 
What do you think?"

"It depends on the woman and on the cock," Jean said with a wry smile.  "But it sounds like
you're bragging."

He let the towel drop away, revealing his erection.

"Am I bragging, Mrs. Brown?" he asked softly.

She couldn't tear her eyes away from his cock.  Her breathing quickened. 

"No," she murmured.  "You're not bragging."

From the corner of her eye, she saw the coverup flutter to the concrete. 

"We've got big cocks, but I've always heard staying power and hardness are more important than
cock size."

"We've got that, too.  Staying power and hardness.  Do you agree that's more important, Mrs.
Brown?"

"Yes.  That's more important," she said as she looked at the other hard cock. 

"Mrs. Brown, sexual fantasies are important.  Don't you agree?"  

"Yes," she whispered.  

Her legs twitched as she struggled to bring them together.  Instead, they parted.  She knew she
was ready and willing to have sex with them. 

"What's your favorite sexual fantasy?"

"I don't want to tell you," she answered faintly. 

"We've been told a lot of women fantasize they're taken by more than one man.  The men make
her understand they're going to fuck her whether or not she wants it."

"They won't take no for an answer and they're stronger than she is."

"Much stronger.  It'd be futile to resist because they're intent on having her."

"She's knows she's going to be fucked, but she knows they won't hurt her if she doesn't resist."  

"So she relaxes and enjoys it."

She felt long, strong fingers wrap around each of her narrow ankles.  She offered only slight
resistance as they slowly pulled her legs apart.  She whimpered as hands behind her knees opened
them wider. 

"Is that a common fantasy, Jean?"

"I don't know," she whispered.

"Is it your fantasy?"

She opened her eyes to see each of them leaning over her.  Fingers trailed along the insides of her
thighs sending bolts of electricity through her.

"Please," she whispered.

Lips covered hers.  A hand caressed her breast.  Fingers undid the bows to remove the tops and
bottoms of her bikini. 

"Be still, Jean, and keep your eyes closed.  Shhhh.  That's right," one murmured in her ear. 

As one man pulled her limp arms over her head and used her bikini top to bind her wrists to the
wood frame of the lounger, the other suckled a nipple and his hand gently stroked between her
legs.  The bikini bottoms were tied over her eyes, blindfolding her.  Hands around her ankles
pulled her down, straightening her arms. 

"You're our fantasy, Jean.  We've dreamed of fucking you, of having your hot, delicious body
under us, of your moaning in our ear.  You're the woman we want.  The woman that drives us
mad with desire.  You're the women we'll have."

She felt the weight of a man on the lounger. Hands behind her knees lifted her legs as lips
covered hers again and a hand gently twisted her nipple.

"We're making the fantasies real, Jean," one whispered as a hard cock rubbed up and down the
slick wetness of her slit.  "Yours and ours." 

She groaned against one's kiss as the other penetrated her.

Time had no meaning.  Life had no purpose except sexual pleasure.  The sweltering heat of the
day was not equal to the heat she generated as she whimpered and moaned through orgasm after
orgasm under the long and relentless pounding until the walls of her pussy were scalded by cum.  

A mouth covered her slit sucking the man's cum from her before another hard cock wormed its
way up her as she spasmed around it.  That cock left her exhausted and unable to function even
as tiny orgasms continued after its withdrawal.  

Again a mouth cleaned her before someone released her hands.  She felt them lift her and sit her
down in the warm grass where she knelt with her legs splayed. 

"Too tired," she whispered, but they ignored her plea. 

They bound her hands behind her.  A man laying in the grass wiggled between her spread legs
and guided her down.

"Oh, God," she murmured as a cock penetrated her from below.

"Suck it, Jean," someone said as a semi-erect cock brushed her lips.  "Come on.  Suck it."  

She took the cock in her mouth as hands gently tangled in her hair to guide her head.  She felt its
slick and silky skin glide over her lips. 

When the cock between her upper lips began to release its hot cum, Jean felt the spasms begin in
her pussy.  She swallowed and a dabble of cum slid down her chin to land on her breasts.  She
threw her head back and screamed in the ecstasy of a final, overwhelming orgasm. 

Jean Brown was naked when she awakened on her bed.  She was sore and tired.  Cum caked her
lips and legs, its taste lingered in her mouth.  She struggled into the bathroom to shower.  As she
dried off, she saw the evidence of her ravaging - the bruises on her hips where their hands held
her, the swelling of her lower lip, the small hickey on her breast. 

She smiled to herself as she slipped the mumu over her head before opening the bedroom door. 
She heard laughter coming from the kitchen.  The five of them - her daughters, their fiances and
her husband, Frank - were playing cards at the table.  They all grinned happily when they saw
her.

"Hi, Mom.  How are you feeling?"

"Fine, honey.  Hello, Frank," she said.

He was beaming as her put his arms around her and kissed her mouth bruised from another man's
cock.  

"Hello, Jean.  Did you have a good day?" Frank asked. 

"You should know.  You were there."            

"When did you figure it out?" he asked.

"Maybe we shouldn't talk about it right now," she answered as her eyes cut to her daughters.

"We were there, too, Mom."

"You were?" she said.

"Sure.  Dad watched from your bedroom.  Elaine and I were in the pool house running the video
equipment."

"It's recorded?"  Jean gasped as she collapsed in a chair.

"In living color," Frank beamed. "So answer my question.  When did you figure it out?"

"When Jeremy and Jason said some men like to watch, I had a hint.  When they described my
fantasy, I guessed.  No one knew that but you.  When they bound my hands and blindfolded me, I
knew you had to have told them everything."

"You were beautiful, baby, just beautiful.  It was everything I'd fantasized when I said I wanted
to watch you with another man."

"It was your cock I sucked at the end, wasn't it?"

"You bet and you were magnificent, but then you've always been a great cocksucker."

"Did you girls participate?" she said, looking at Elaine and Emily. 

"Let's save that for another day," Jeremy said.  "Right now, I've got a fantasy I want to live out."

They all looked at him as he grinned. 

"I'm fantasizing about steak and beer.  Let's go out to dinner."

 
The End

Please!  Give me your comments!

E-mail address: ezriter@hotmail.com

My works can be found at ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/E.Z.Riter or www.storiesonline.net 

  











 
   

   









  

           
  





