Got S.M.I.L.F.? Ch. 01

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are entirely fictional, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The following story involves graphic descriptions of sexual encounters. If such things offend you, please read no further. Please do not redistribute or reuse this story without the author's permission.

"Got S.M.I.L.F.? (Soccer Moms I'd Like to Fuck)"

Trixie found herself sighing while staring out the window at the pouring rain. The day had gone from bad to worse. She hadn't felt particularly chipper for quite some time. She was supposed to take a minivan filled with soccer players up to a statewide tournament that supported charities. The invitees were players who had graduated high school and had been accepted to play at the collegiate level. A number of companies had gotten together and each sponsored a player. All the money donated by the sponsors went to one of a number of charities, and the players themselves got to pick which one. It was a good cause, but it unfortunately was also a platform for some self-righteous players to grandstand in front of the Olympic team's scouts that always attended. Trixie's son, Roger, was one of those types of players.

Trixie had gotten married right out of high school to Paul Branch. They had been sweethearts for years, and everyone knew that he was going places. And he had become quite a successful car salesman. So successful that he had three major dealerships in town, and was seen as a 'pillar of the community.' Unfortunately for Trixie, while Paul had gone places, she felt she had been left behind somewhere along the way.

She had gotten pregnant within the first year of their marriage, and they had named their son Roger. Complications in the pregnancy left her unable to have more children. But that didn't seem to bother her husband. She had given him an heir, and that was all that mattered. He had never been intentionally cruel or mean to her after that. Even though she never had a career or had much of a social life of her own, she was always provided for. But after about five years, Paul had seemed to see her less as the beautiful young woman he had married and more as a simple piece in a puzzle depicted the American dream: a wife, house, child, white picket fence, and a successful business. She noticed that he had become more emotionally distant over the years. She thought that maybe she just wasn't attractive anymore. Her few friends that she confided in scoffed at the idea. Trixie had done more than age gracefully; she had kicked Father Time in the gonads. She had kept up a strict aerobics regiment her entire life. While she had a farmer's-daughter-tom-boy physique rather than the gaunt look so popular in magazines, she still managed to attract long glances and whistles every time she walked down the street. At 37 years of age, she had a body that an 18 year old would kill for. Her body-fat percentage was phenomenal, and she still had clearly defined abs. Her c-cup breasts stood out prominently on her chest, and her ass was smooth and taut. She had full, pouty lips, brilliant green eyes and strawberry-blonde hair that always seemed to look tussled. But as hard as she tried, she just couldn't get her husband to notice her anymore.

Since Roger had been born, her husband had poured attention on him. When you grow up with a man who does nothing but tell you how great you are all the time and who helps bail you out of any problems, you become a bit conceited. The boy had little respect for anyone, including his mother. As long as his father approved of him, he was fine. And his father of approved of everything he did. The two of them had left early this morning so that Roger would be well rested for the game the next morning. Paul had volunteered his wife to drive some of the "other kids" up later in the day. These were the boys who were sponsored by smaller companies who simply wanted to help out at a noble event. They tended to be decent kids, and she normally didn't mind playing soccer mom. But she had wanted for Paul to arrange other transportation for all the kids. After all, it was their anniversary. They had been married for 17 years, and had become less important to him than taking their spoiled child to a soccer game. And she hadn't even gotten her a gift.

So she sat their next to the window, staring outward. The 5 boys had been dropped off, but as the last of them had arrived, the rain had started coming down in buckets. The local news had a flash flood advisory, and her husband had called to say the game had been postponed from the following morning until the following evening to give the field a chance to dry on the off chance it stopped pouring overnight. The highway that led to the event was closed, so they wouldn't be able to leave that evening. Since they would have to leave early in the morning to make the event, Trixie and the boys' parents all decided it would be easier if the boys just stayed at Trixie's house that evening, making it easier for them to get going at first light. Trixie didn't mind. The house had plenty of room, and she enjoyed having something to distract her from her marital problems. She checked her watch and noticed it was about seven o'clock.

"Have you boys eaten yet," she asked with a start. She realized she would be a terrible hostess for letting the young men go hungry.

"I had a chocolate bar on the way over," said one of the boys pitifully. His name was Dennis, a nice young man whose family was from Brazil. He had beautifully dark skin and big, clear eyes. She could tell he was trying to be polite, but she was also certain none of them had eaten in a while. She felt like a terrible hostess.

"How about some homemade pizza?" The word 'pizza' has a magical effect on young men. All of their eyes lit up.

"Are you sure it won't be much trouble?"

"Absolutely not," she said warmly. "I haven't entertained such lofty company since the last time the Queen herself popped by for tea," she said in her worst pseudo-English accent. The boys sat there with goofy grins on their faces. Trixie felt a little flustered. It had been a while since she had last tried to be funny, and her husband and son tended to dismiss such attempts as weak. She got out a bowl and got down her recipe. It had been a long time since she had made it. Her family tended to snub her cooking. Two of the boys got up and headed into the kitchen with her.

"What are you two up to?"

"Helping?" they said with confused expressions on their faces. Their confusion perplexed her until she realized that they probably saw 'helping' as what they were supposed to do. She only wished her son was so courteous. She gave each of them a chore, which they dove into. Soon the other three joined in, mixing and cutting and generally making a bit of a mess. They were so caught up in the cooking process that she took the time to stand back and watch them for a bit. They were a fine looking group. Dennis had an exotic look to him that she was fascinated by. Jim and James were both white, blonde-haired blue-eyed boys, with Jim being a bit taller and a bit broader in those muscular shoulders. Lance was black, with a particularly handsome face and a shaved head. Mike was Hispanic, with those dark eyes and tempting lips usually reserved for Mexican soap-opera stars. All of them were in good shape, lean and strong. And those cute little butts . . .

'Oh, God!' she thought to herself. She was a married woman! And she was checking out boys half her age! She was old enough to be their mother for crying out loud! She through herself back into her work, trying to forget about those tight asses confined by tight denim jeans or soccer shorts. She really tried.

They were having so much fun that they hadn't noticed her watching them. At one point, Jim wiped the flour from his hands on his pants.

"What a savage," said Dennis.

"What?"

"You don't just wipe your hands on your clothes."

"Good point." With that, Jim wiped his hands on Dennis's shirt. Trixie found herself giggling uncontrollably as Dennis stared incredulously at the flour on his shirt. He methodically reached into a bowl full of dough for the crust. Jim would have rune, but two of the other boys held him in place as Dennis smeared the stuff all over his face. Trixie was laughing so hard at that point she could scarcely breathe. Jim managed to free his arm grab a handful of pepperoni slices and fling them at his adversary. Dennis dodged. Trixie wound up with a pepperoni necklace. There was a moment of intense silence as the boys realized they might have gone too far. Their fears were somewhat alleviated when Trixie smashed an egg over Jim's head, and the food fight was underway in earnest.

After about twenty minutes, the six of them, the kitchen and part of the living room were covered in miscellaneous food particles. The boys helped her clean up, and they even managed to get a single pepperoni pizza finished. It wasn't much, but no one complained.

During clean up, there were several times the storm caused the lights to flicker. At one point they went out completely. Trixie reached for the cabinet underneath the sink where they kept a flashlight. Her arm brushed against one of the boys. More specifically, it brushed against the crotch of one of the boys. The contact was brief, but Trixie could feel the heat emanating from beneath the material (she thought it felt like soccer shorts). Whoever it was, he was semi-hard down there. And he was big. She felt someone bump into her from behind, and felt another dick, this one completely rigid, temporarily slide along her butt cheeks. She felt her heart beat faster and her palms began to sweat. But as quickly as it arrived, it was gone. Trixie realized that one of the things she was feeling was disappointment. She shook her head. 'Just remember,' she thought. 'Half your age, half your age.' She found the flashlight just as the lights came back on. She was bent over reaching into the counter. She glanced back and saw all of the boys looking at her posterior before guiltily looking away. Trixie could hardly believe she had that kind of affect on them. After all, they probably just saw her as an old lady.

It was past ten o'clock but no one seemed tired, so Trixie popped one of her husband's action movies into the dvd player and they all sat down to watch. Trixie was distracted though. She could get the thought of what happened earlier out of her head. She found herself wondering whose privates she had touched with her hand and whose had been nestled between her butt cheeks. Two people were wearing soccer shorts, Dennis and Mike, so she must have accidentally groped one of them. The one at her backside . . . 'Oh, stop it, Trixie. It was nothing.' She just wished she could convince her still rapidly-beating heart that it was nothing. And she wished she could stop staring at their crotches.

Eventually the movie ended and it was time for bed. She put two of the boys in the spare bedroom, one in her son's room, one on the couch and one in the overly-large recliner chair. She then went to her room and got ready for bed. She slipped into a pair of lacy, powder-blue panties and matching bra. She didn't realize until she was brushing her teeth what she was wearing; it was her favorite 'fuck me' outfit she wore when she was trying to get her husband's attention. Now why had she put it on? She shrugged and climbed into bed. It was awfully hot and humid, so she threw back all the covers and lay there almost completely exposed to the world. Without even thinking about it, her hands drifted south of the border. She often masturbated when Paul was away. Hell, she often masturbated when he was around. She slipped her hand under the flimsy material of her underwear and began fingering herself. She was already quite wet down there. She was surprised at how anxious she was to do this, considering there were strange people in her house. The moonlight was shining in the open window, bathing her body in a magnificent pale light. She reached orgasm in record time, and she tried very hard not to gasp out loud. Her body shook while she continued sticking her fingers deep inside her body. It felt . . . well, delicious. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw something move. She realized then that the door wasn't completely shut. 'Oh my God,' she thought again. 'Please don't let anyone have seen me.'

She got up, sweat and lace plastered to her body. She went to the door and glanced out. There was no one there. But she heard a door squeak down the hall, and saw a light appear under the bathroom door. Hmm. She wandered down the hall as quietly as she could. She was vaguely aware that she was clad only in her lingerie, but that didn't matter much. Whoever had gone in the bathroom hadn't shut the door all the way. She peeked through the crack at the bathroom mirror.

She saw Dennis standing next to the tub, leaning forward with one hand on the wall. His shorts were around his ankles and his shirt was on the counter. And even though she couldn't see what he was doing (as his back was to her), she knew he was jerking off. And he was into it, too. His muscular back was taut and his round little ass was clenched as he whacked away. He was muttering under his breath. She strained to make out was he was saying. Then she heard it.

"Oh, Mrs. Branch! Oh Trixie!" Holy shit! He was fantasizing about her! This hot young stud was fantasizing about a thirty-seven-year-old soccer mom! She knew she should turn and go back to her room. That would be the proper thing to do. But at that moment, she didn't give a damn about being proper.

She quickly and quietly slipped into the room. "So," she said, "was it you spying on me a minute ago?"

Dennis turned with a look of shock and embarrassment on his face. In a panic, he started reaching for his shorts. He did so in such a rush that he lost his balance. He started to fall backward but managed to catch the edge of the tub before falling in. His member wound up pointed skyward for all the world, or at least his hostess, to see.

Trixie had never seen such a beautiful dick. Of course, she only had her husband to compare it to, but her husband's equipment was nothing compared to this. It was eight inches long with a large head. It was cleanly shaved, as were the heavy balls that hung underneath. It was waving wildly through the air like a compass in a magnetic storm.

"Did I do that?" she continued. "Did this old lady get you all hard?"

"Old lady? Mrs. B, when you first showed up at the school, everyone thought you were Roger's sister, not his mother. Everyone thinks you're the hottest lady in town. And . . . Oh damn, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be saying stuff like that to you. I'll . . . I'll call my folks to come get me and . . ."

He was silenced as she moved forward, reached out and took his raging hard-on in her hand. "I . . . I don't want you to go. Do you really think I'm hot?"

"Yeah. Oh that feels good! Yeah, you're really hot!"

"No one has told me that in a long time." She began stroking his meat. She didn't believe what she was doing. But this young man thought she was sexy. He fantasized about her. And that made her feel good! She wanted to feel like that. And she wanted this eighteen year old boy. She lowered the toilet lid and sat down on it. She took Dennis's rod in both her hands and pulled and tugged on it gently. She was mesmerized by it. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. He was moaning gently, enjoying the feel of her hands.

"Shh," she whispered. "You don't want to wake the others, do you?" She looked straight at the head of his penis. "You know how I keep from making noise sometimes?" She extended the tip of her tongue and licked the faint trace of pre-cum off the head, eliciting another moan that was laced with surprise. "I stick something in my mouth." With that, she descended on that big, beautiful dick. Once upon a time, she was able to make Paul beg for oral sex, but he had eventually grown tired of it just like everything else. She hoped she could still do it all right. From Dennis's expression, she was doing just fine. She went down about five inches on each stroke before pulling up, exerting as much suction as she could with her lips. She cupped his balls with one hand while keeping the other circled around the base of the shaft. She knew that if she squeezed at the right time, she could prolong his erection for a while. The sensation was incredible for both of them. Trixie missed the feeling of having her lips split by man-meat and the feeling of cum on her tongue.

"Hey Dennis, are you almost . . ." Oh shit! Mike had just walking in the bathroom. Trixie had forgotten to lock the door. There was no point trying to pretend that nothing was going on. So rather than fight it, she decided to go for it.

"What," she said after pulling her lips from Dennis's shaft with a slurping noise, "were you raised in a barn? Come on it if you want some of this!" She couldn't believe the words coming out of her mouth just before a young cock sank back into it. Mike looked incredulous, but he stepped forward and dropped his pants. His cock was a little shorter than Dennis' s, but it was just as thick and quite lovely. Mike was muttered something in Spanish, but it was clear what he wanted. He stood next to Dennis as Trixie began shifting her attention between them. She could scarcely believe that she was performing oral sex on two young men, both of whom played soccer with her son, but she didn't want to stop. She ran her hands over their tight buns when she wasn't grasping their balls.

"Boys, let's go . . . (Slurp) . . . to my room. It'll be a bit more comfortable." She stood up, grabbed their erections, and led them down the hall to her bedroom. She flipped on the light; she wanted to see everything. She led the two young men to the bed and had them sit down. She knelt in front of them and continued her oral attentions. She had them both moaning audibly now. Once, she put the heads of their penises together and fit both of them in her mouth, though not without some difficulty. The she sucked Mike's dick all the way back into her mouth again while stroking Dennis.

"Holy Shit!" She glanced back and saw James in the doorway with a tent in his pajama bottoms.

"What are you staring at? Haven't you ever seen a grown woman going down on your friends before?" Trixie wasn't sure if she just wasn't thinking clearly or if she had achieved a clarity unknown to her before. But she wanted these boys to desire her. James took a step forward. "Before you join in, go get the others." All three boys looked incredulous at that. "What? I'm just being polite to all my guests." James disappeared, and Dennis's dick disappeared down her throat.

"See," came James's voice, "I told you!" Trixie looked behind her and Jim and Lance had joined James.

"Okay," said Trixie. "I'm not sure why I'm doing this, but I want you. I want all of you. But only if you promise not to tell anyone!" The sight of three more pairs of pants/pajamas hitting the floor was the response she got, but it was the only response she needed. She indicated for each of the boys to sit on the edge of the bed, and she sat back to gaze at them. Dennis's eight-inch shaft was easily the longest, but all of them were beautiful. Mike's she had already sucked. Jim and James were another couple of seven-inchers. Lance's black dick was also seven inches, but thicker than any of the others. She wasn't sure how she was going to fit in her mouth, but she was determined to try.

While she checked them out, they checked her out. "Damn, Mrs. B! You are the sexiest woman ever!" That was Lance. "And I've seen a lot of on-line porn!" That broke what was remaining of the ice and left Trixie giggling.