We’re driving home from Liverpool on a glorious summer Sunday, having spent the last four days with Ken’s parents celebrating Ken’s fiftieth birthday. I’m wearing a linen wrap skirt and plain blouse, over a cotton bra and panties to keep cool. The car’s air-con is so cold that Ken has noticed my nipples poking through my blouse, which gives him an idea.
“How about livening the journey up a bit?” Ken says after a few minutes of being on the M6.
“How so?” I ask.
“Well, how about getting your tits out and giving some of these truckers a boost. There aren’t many cars about, just a regular flow of trucks and coaches. Perhaps give the coaches a miss—pensioners mostly on the ones I’ve seen so far. We don’t want any heart attacks,” he laughs. “Just undo your blouse and whip them out of your bra at the opportune moment.”
I grin at him, undo my blouse, and go one better by removing my bra. I also slip my seatbelt under my arm. Otherwise, it covers that boob.
Ken looks at me and grins.
“That’s even better.”
“They’re uncomfortable just pulled out; besides, you get a better view like this,” I smile. “I can soon pull my blouse over them when needed.”
We soon realise that the truckers have a better view if we are in the outside lane. And waving my arm out the window helps to get their attention.
They’re appreciative if their grins and horns are anything to go by!
After an hour or so, we come across a slow-moving military truck. As we get closer, we see two bored-looking soldiers peering blindly out of the back of it. It’s an older-style fabric-covered vehicle, and the rear flaps are open.
Ken pulls up behind the truck, drawing the attention of one of the squaddies. When he looks up, I expose my tits, jiggling them from side to side. Oops, he nearly falls out of the truck, but quickly recovers and nudges his mate.
I give them a proper show, squeezing my breasts together, stroking my nipples, tilting my head down, licking them, and looking up again, I see four of Britain’s finest enjoying the show and offering encouragement.
Lifting my bum off the seat, I reach under my skirt and pull off my knickers, and wave them at my audience before lewdly sticking a finger in my mouth and putting the same finger up my pussy, which is wet and slippery, covering it in my juices before holding it up for inspection and salaciously licking it clean.
Ken is having a great time. The things he will do to me when we get home are unreal!
I must have been teasing the lads for five minutes; there is that little traffic about, when they hold up a cardboard sign.
“Wanna FUCK,” it says.
Ken and I look at each other, grin, and give a thumbs-up to the hopeful lads.
A few miles down the road, the truck pulls into a service area and comes to a stop on the slip road. Ken pulls up behind it, and I slip out of the car; Ken, helpfully, tugs at the bow holding my skirt together as I go, and I end up with one hand holding my blouse together and the other holding my skirt up.
Two lads are waiting behind the truck to boost me up, and two more are on the truck with their arms outstretched to pull me up. My blouse and skirt fall to the ground as I reach up to the outstretched arms. Naked before I am even in the truck and in full view of anybody passing, I glance over my shoulder to see Ken getting out of the car to pick up my clothes, and that there is nobody else about.
Once on board, the truck immediately drives off, and I’m shuffled forward and laid on top of a pile of kit bags; my legs part reflexively. It’s surprisingly gloomy inside the truck, and hot, and silent!
The bravado shown in inviting me has disappeared. Then it strikes me that it is unlikely that the guys have ever had sex in front of each other, and definitely not shared the same girl.
“I’m not shy,” I say seductively as I run my hands down my body.
They start touching me tentatively, my breasts and legs, but avoiding between my legs, and are arguing quietly amongst themselves as to what to do next. I try to get a better look at the guys; there are six of them, and they look very young. Not that I can see that clearly, as the light is behind them. My impression is that some of them are virgins, and none can be overly experienced, reinforcing my doubts about their age. Great, beginners, I grin inwardly.
To break the impasse, I reach between my legs, pull my fleshy lips aside to expose the inner pinkness, and say, “Who’s going to be first?”
One of them takes the hint, unzips his trousers, and pulls his cock out, letting it stand to attention. Whoa, that’s impressive. It points straight up, and he has to bend it down to align it with my hole before he inserts it.
Standing up, it looked enormous, but, in reality, it’s no bigger than my usual fare, although it does feel much harder.
What!? He’s finished! Three, possibly four strokes, and he’s shot his load inside me!
Sheepishly, he pulls away from me and stuffs his cock back into his pants. Surprisingly, nobody takes the Michael. Oh dear, is this a sign of things to cum?
It is. The next two lads last a little longer, but not by much, as do numbers four and five. Ten strokes have been the most so far! Apart from the delight of seeing all their cocks pointing skyward and feeling their lovely hardness, the rest has been disappointing.
Hopefully, the best is last. Nope, nine strokes, and this lad is finished as well. Watching the others has overexcited him.
As he pulls out of me and starts to tuck himself away, I sit up, slip off the kitbags and kneel in front of him. I take his cock into my mouth and proceed to clean it, making him jerk involuntarily as my tongue laps over his still sensitive head. He offers no resistance but is very tense; his whole body has gone rigid, apart from his cock. But I’m working on that, having undone his trousers and pulled them down to his knees, I cup his balls in my left hand, squeezing them gently, and nip the base of his cock between the thumb and forefinger of my right hand, never once letting his cock slip from my mouth.
Massaging his balls and the base of his cock, while lapping and licking along its length with my tongue and sliding my mouth up and down, has the desired effect. He starts growing and quickly fills my mouth. Not wanting his cum in my mouth, I quickly slip back onto the kitbags and spread my legs.
“Try again,” I invite. “Slower this time.” The silence is deafening; the watching lads cannot believe their eyes as he buries his cock inside me once more.
“Can…can we all fuck you again?” someone stammers.
“Sure, I hardly think your first attempts qualified as being fucked,” I reply teasingly. “And if you’re really good, I might give you seconds, too.”
My invigorated lad fucks me slowly for a good time, not a long time, but far better than before. I can enjoy his rock-hard cock sliding along my slippery walls. It also feels different; with its natural desire to stand straight up, it is pressing more firmly against my upper walls. Whereas it is not prodding at my G-spot, it is arousing it gently, sending ripples of pleasure through me. His pace suddenly increases as his second load shoots into me.
Looking around as he pulls out, he sees several exposed cocks, all pointing to the sky, ready to take his place. Not so shy now, are they?
“Take your trousers down; you’ll get in deeper and won’t get them messy,” I tell them, and like any good soldier, they obey.
One after another, they ravage my pussy, lasting a good deal longer than their first attempt, and they have got their bravado and voices back, offering comment and encouragement in no uncertain manner.
Each thrust of each rock-hard young cock feels so different from the middle-aged cock I am so au fait with. I have had young cock before, but that was when I was young and knew no other. I think I remember Ken’s cock being this rampant!
Not that the changes make any difference to the enjoyment. It is simply exciting to have a young cock again, and at my age. Damn, I’m old enough to be their mother.
All through my musings, I am aware of the ripples of pleasure engulfing me. This is no full-blown screaming orgasm, but it is highly pleasurable all the same.
The last lad fills me with his seed, puts his cock away, and sits with his mates. There are three on either side of me on the benches running down the truck bed. I sit up, reach out to one of them to take his water bottle, and drink deeply from it.
“That was so much better,” I sultrily tell them.
“Too fucking right it was,” a lad to the right of me says.
A chorus of agreement and thanks ensues.
“This bed is not very comfy, though,” I say, leaning back and resting my hands behind me, arching my torso upward, accentuating my perspiration-glistening curves, with my arousal-engorged breasts and nipples leading the way. As hoped, several hands start rubbing over my boobs and belly, noticeably avoiding my messy nether regions.
“Umm, that’s nice,” I purr.
“Your bloke, don’t he mind you getting fucked by us?” one of the lads questions.
“Not at all. He encourages it,” I answer truthfully.
“Is he gay, then? Or not capable?” another asks innocently.
I laugh. “Not at all. He will give me a good seeing to when we get home.”
Then, standing up and stepping away from the kitbag bed, I brace my feet against the benches lining the sides of the truck and stretch my arms over my head.
“Oh, that’s better. My back was killing me,” I say innocently, knowing full well the six lads are getting a good view of my fleshy labia dangling a few inches below my pussy.
The view becomes irresistible when I bend forward and grasp my ankles. I hold the pose for a while before glancing over my shoulder and asking, “Like to try a different position?”
There’s not enough space for a mad scramble to get to me. However, the intent is there, and swiftly, there is a cock being lowered and lined up with my gaping maw, entering it with enthusiasm.
“Fuck me hard,” I order.
I hope that’s okay and that the lad can last the distance. Still, there are five more to come.
He takes my instruction to heart and pounds into me, gripping around my waist to keep me from getting away from him and making my head and boobs bob about in rhythm to his beat. It’s glorious to receive; each thrust powers through me, making my whole body react in delight, and he keeps going and going. This one, at least, has got his bravado and confidence back after the slow start!
Feeling unsteady under his onslaught, I reach up and take hold of the tailgate for extra support. Can they all do this well? I hope so!
Then he’s done, and he holds his cock deep inside as it pulses out the last dregs from his balls. Wonderful!
He sits beside me, near the rear of the truck, and plays with my breasts as the next cock plunders me from behind. He grips a nipple between his fingers and pulls it straight down, and tries to stop my boob from swinging. It doesn’t work, but it does add an extra layer of painful pleasure for me, not that he is aware of that.
The second cock, like the first, lasts a decent time as well, pumping vigorously into me until he lets loose his warm seed inside me. The owner sits on the other side of me and takes his cue from the first lad, gripping my other nipple firmly. Cock three gets slipped up my slippery hole and starts taking its pleasure, slow and gentle. This lad has learnt quickly.
My nipples get released, and the two lads who were holding them stand up and pull open the rear curtain. I look up and see Ken following us. It’s difficult to focus on him with the pounding I am getting. It seems like he’s giving a thumbs-up. I don’t know how much he can see, but what is happening is apparent.
“Feckin’ hell. Look at her bloke. He’s grinning like a feckin’ idiot, and he’s just given us the thumbs up,” one of the lads holding the curtain open announces.
“Bring her closer. Give her bloke a good look,” the other lad suggests as they close the curtain.
“Wait till I’m fucking done,” the lad, still pounding me, shouts.
When he’s finished with me, the other lads pull me closer to the tailgate, opening the flaps just as another lad plunges his cock into my pussy and starts pounding into me.
“That’s it, Charlie. Make her tits shake,” someone encourages Charlie.
Charlie does just that and more as he brings me to climax. A rippling orgasm spreads through my body. Lovely!
They’ve certainly improved from their first inglorious attempts at pleasuring me!
Charlie finishes with a flourish of wild abandon, thrusting into me hard and fast as he explodes inside me.
After the pounding from the last four lads, the slow, steady rhythm of my current lover is a welcome and pleasing change. So much so that I orgasm again, letting out a low guttural moan as I hump my hips back and forth and squeeze my pussy tightly around his cock. I add to his pleasure as he releases his warm sperm into my welcoming sex.
One to go!
I notice Ken is watching avidly as the lads change places, exchange a spent weapon with a fresh one, and continue the assault on their objective.
Their objective, me, is easily overcome by this new weapon, meeting no resistance as it assaults my body, continuing the tremors of pleasure rolling through my body. He has to work hard to reach the mission’s climax. Slapping his bare flesh into mine as he pounds his way to victory, he celebrates with a burst of rapid-fire cum ejecting from his potent weapon.
Traffic approaching causes the curtains to be closed, but the lads aren’t finished with me yet, so they reposition me. Facing out of the truck, my feet are wedged against the seating, and my arms are outstretched to grab hold of the frame rails. Displayed with everything on show, they open the curtains. Ken is ecstatic as he sees me, the grin on his face growing even broader and more so as the lads start mauling my tits and flesh. Someone is pumping their hand through my legs, rubbing over my open hole and spreading the frothy mess between my legs over his hand and forearm.
“Look, he’s feckin’ loving it. The bloody pervert. Mind, so is she!” one of the lads blurts out.
Suddenly, the lads stop what they are doing, the curtains close, and I am led back to sit on the kitbags.
Someone, obviously senior to them, is shouting orders from the cab.
“Alright, you’ve got ten minutes to finish what you’re doing, and then I want you all out of the truck in parade order,” the order is.
“Yes, corporal,” they answer in unison.
“Ten minutes. Do you reckon we can make this slut cum again? She seems to want it,” someone suggests.
“Worth a try,” comes the answer.
They do more than try as two cocks manage to stoke my fires again, keeping a rolling buzz of pleasure thrumming through my body. They fill me with two more loads, or dribbles, of warm cum. I lie panting on my kitbag bed as the lads all jump out of the truck, leaving me alone.
But not for long. I glance up on hearing someone jump onboard the truck and see an older soldier approaching me.
“They tell me you like it hard,” he grins. “Let’s find out how you manage a real man.”
And with that, he grabs my ankles, pushing them up and over my head.
“Whoa, they have made a mess, haven’t they? Good lads, I didn’t think they had it in them,” he approves as he peers at my ravaged sex.
“They didn’t,” I riposte. “They had it in me.”
“Huh, spunky too, aren’t you?” he says as his cock enters my pouting hole with ease; although he is noticeably larger, it presents no problem! Indeed, the extra width he wields exerts a pleasant pressure on my walls, and my G-spot gets teased and pleased even more.
More experienced, he pumps into me with vigour, long, firm strokes, teasing and tearing at my inner sanctum and purposefully bringing me to the edge and then holding himself still, either at my entrance or deep inside. He is taking me off the plateau that would lead to my climax. Repeatedly, he leads me up the hill and down again.
“Hurry up in there,” someone shouts from outside.
“Nearly done, corp,” my tormentor grins.
However, he has to obey orders and quickly brings us both to a finish. His teasing expertise produces the loudest scream of all as he continues thrusting over my G-spot, even after he has ejaculated, pushing my body beyond pleasure and toward torment.
He stops, pulls his wilting cock out of me, and gets himself dressed.
He grins at me before stepping off the truck, stops, and reaches for something. Turning back to me, he throws a towel and my clothes at me.
“Corp says to clean up quickly; we’re running late,” he says as he jumps out of the truck.
Thankfully, it’s my swimming towel, which is still damp from my morning swim, making it easier to wipe myself down. My body is covered in perspiration and drying cum, especially my legs. Dressing takes little time; there’s only a skirt and blouse to slip on and no underwear. Typical Ken!
On stepping to the back of the truck, where Ken and the corporal help me down, I find all the lads who have just enjoyed my company standing at attention in a line between the truck and my car. I laugh inwardly as I think about what else has been coming to attention this morning! As I walk past them, they all salute. In return, I stop in front of them, look them each in the eye, and give them a prim curtsy. Damn, they look so young! Barely out of school. If I didn’t know better…
When I reach the car, I turn and watch them scurry onto the truck and drive off into the distance.
Ken opens the door for me. Before sitting in the car, I place the towel on the seat and flick my skirt up so I won’t sit on it. I know I will leak for a while yet!
“Damn, I must be getting old,” I say as Ken pulls away. “They looked like they were fresh out of junior school. Not soldiers.”
Ken bursts out laughing.
“It’s not funny. I’m only forty-eight!” I complain.
“No, no, you’re not old. But the lads were young. I was speaking with Corporal Jacko. They are junior soldiers. Not one of them is eighteen yet, and two are not seventeen.” Ken grins mischievously.
My jaw drops to the floor, and my eyes pop out of my head.
“What? No, that can’t be right. You have to be eighteen to join the forces, right?” I stammer.
“To go on the frontline, yes. But you can start training at sixteen,” Ken cheerfully informs me.
I sit bewildered and silent for the rest of the journey home. I could have been their grandmother, let alone mother!
Then, of course, I come back to their so very hard cocks pointing enthusiastically skyward and slapping against their stomachs as they moved, and all is well in my mind.
