The boys were back almost an hour later. The sun had set and they were a bit chilled.

"Hi, mum!" Timmy's cute face was one irresistible smile. I kissed him on the lips, giving a little touch with my tongue as a promise for later.
"How did you get on?" I asked them.
"Lots of pervies!" Timmy and I both laughed. Anyone who looked at his delectable backside was a pervy. Even without the enhancers, the little boys' buttocks often attracted the attention of pervies.
"Two ladies and one man," said Greg. "Long, open mouthed looks."
"Any cute men?" I asked them.
"Cute student at the bus stop," said Timmy. "He watched us down the street."
"We rubbed our bottoms as we walked, so he couldn't think of anything else," Greg added. "He had a boner like there was a fence-post in his pants."
"And two old ladies were drooling."
"Really? Where?"
"In the street outside the fire station," said Greg. "One of them wanted to spank me."
"Yeah," Timmy added, "I heard her. That young man needs his bottom spanked."
"But I went up to her and asked her if she'd like to spank me," said Greg, "and she just said, 'Be off with you.'"
"I bet she regrets that now." I said. "What was she like?"
"Never seen her before," said Greg, "five foot ten, black hair down to here, 36C, quilted handbag, plastic bag of shopping."
"Married?"
"Gold band," said Greg. The woman had obviously made an impression.
"Hey, Greg," I said as though an idea had struck me, "kiss me."

I kissed Greg on the mouth. We enjoyed a hot liquid kiss and he tongued me expertly. As we kissed, I felt his cock through the shorts. It swelled to a straight, firm 2¼ inch length and pressed hard against the material. No shaper was necessary. After I'd finished with it, the tip was peeping out of the leg of the shorts. Greg's erect penis could have been seen from a hundred yards away. Timmy came close and I french-kissed him too and gave him the cock hardening treatment with my other hand. In a couple of minutes I had two excited boys bottomless, shorts and sponge slices and underpants around their ankles, balls and cocks desperate for release.

I'll leave the rest of the evening to your imagination except that they had three orgasms with me and spent a couple of hours bottomless, wriggling and bending over the end of the sofa for their Dad, who was as randy as always. Timmy ended up in handcuffs, which is another story (not the police but his Dad.)

I've noticed when the boys are walking with me that it's always the women who drool over them, staring, watching the boys' lips and buttocks, imagining caressing their balls or parting their legs for the insertion of their straight cocks. The women allow their lusts to spill over. Women are not used to having to hide their sense of sexual attraction: some masturbate shamelessly with one hand or press their thighs together, knowing that nobody will really disapprove. Men have to spend a lot more effort on keeping their feelings towards little boys a secret. On the street, I knew, men's eyes were irresistibly drawn to those exaggerated curvy bum cheeks with their tight cleft and their silent invitation to put oil between the cheeks and give themselves the joy of bare-bottomed anal sex. It would have taken a moment's courage to slip their shorts off and penetrate the boys' tight cleavage. 'Come on,' their butts would have said, 'uncover us, make us kneel, fuck our sweet mouths, push your erection between these cheeks, fuck us until we can't sit down.' The boys know exactly how to submit to a man's hard cock pressing against the young anus. The boys moan with pleasure ('Oh, that's right. Go in deeper. Yes! Try not to come yet. Push it further, deeper! I love you!') and they rock to and fro to drive him wild with desire and impart the sudden, all enveloping rush of orgasm.

In the morning, inevitably, the boys asked whether they might wear the butt lifters to school and of course I told them that they could. They looked like little angels with tangled hair and buttocks the size of watermelons testing the seams of their school short-shorts. We texted each other at moments during the school day.

Me, to both boys, about ten o'clock: "Who's looking at you, kids? Kiss Kiss, Mom"
Timmy: "All the girls, Mom."
Greg: "Fergus fondled me in the yard." Fergus was six and, like my two, had learned to enjoy sexual stimulation at home with Mom and Dad and was already capable of feeling shattering orgasms. "I held his dick."
Me: "Did he orgasm?"
Greg: "He pissed. Then I wanked him off. He orgasmed after a minute."
Me: "Well done, Greg."

Me again, later, to both boys, at lunch time: "Have you scored yet?"
Greg, who plays football: "Mr Geography Mackintosh is surveying the goal area."
Me, to Greg: "Make sure he sees every detail."
Greg: "He wants to spank me. He already spanked Jonathan."
Jonathan (classmate) five minutes later: "Hi Mrs Coldstream, Greg's been spanked."
Me, to Jonathan: "Did it hurt?"
Jonathan: "Yes."
Me, to Jonathan: "Pants on or off?"
Jonathan: "Off. In front of the class."
Me, to Jonathan: "Good, he needs it."
Jonathan: "Mack made him come."
Timmy: "No, I haven't scored. Have you?"
Me, to Timmy: "Dad didn't fuck me last night and Noah hasn't visited." Noah is my favourite boyfriend.
Timmy: "Dad was fucking us. I got it six times. I can still feel where he stretched my arse hole. Are you envious?"
Me, to Timmy: "No."

Greg, at about three o'clock: "Will you fetch us?"
Me: "Is it raining? All right. See you. Bottomless, OK? If I see either of you wearing pants, you can walk home."

I drove to the school, which is all of ten minutes' walk from our house. The boys were waiting for me nude from the waist down, holding their shorts and underpants and looking sheepish. I love that look of blushing, embarrassed modesty. They kissed me (tongue from Greg) and climbed into the car, Greg beside me and Timmy on Greg's lap. Thank the Lord, people are unobservant. They gave me their still warm shorts and underpants with their fragrance of sweat and piss, kissed them and slipped them into the glove compartment to play with later.

I was closing the glove compartment flap when someone knocked on the passenger side window. It was a woman in her forties maybe, all black hair and lipstick. I wound down the window.

"Could I have a word?" she said.
"Sure," I said.
"That's her," said Greg, "she was looking at us, last night."
"Those boys are naked from the waist to the ankles."
"Yes," I said, "I noticed that. I'm Jennie, I'm their—"
"I'm Maeve Stephenson, I'm substituting here. Don't you think that boys who strip off in the yard, er…"
"Hi, Maeve. I gather the boys've already met you. Why don't you get into the back seat?" I said, "So I can close the windows and drive somewhere we'll have a small supply of privacy."
"No, this needs sorting out now."
"Get in. I'll drive you home after."
"We'll show our bums to you," said Greg, "you'll like that."
"But strictly no touching," Timmy added, mischievously.
Maeve tutted. "Well, in that case…" She left the sentence unfinished and joined us, sitting on the back seat while the three of us were still crammed into the front.

"Would you like one of the boys to sit with you?" I asked. "They're a bit crowded in the front here."
"Well," Maeve tried to give the impression she was thinking about it, "I suppose that would be all right."
"Greg, you go and get in the back. Maeve, you can spank him if he's naughty. It will save me a job."
"Yeah," Timmy giggled, "he'd like that."

Tommy, bottomless, ran around the car and got into the back seat.

"Well," said Maeva, "we meet again."
"Yes," said Greg, "I really thought you were gorgeous when I walked past you last night."
"When?" Maeve asked.
"I was wearing bum shapers," said Greg, "and you wanted to spank me."
"So why don't you spank him," asked Timmy, "now he's bottomless on your lap?"
"I have a strap that you can use," I said, helpfully. "Or you could try these." I reached her a tube of lotion and a baby-wipe. "Put a finger in as far as you can."
"Oooh, yes, please," Greg enthused, raising his backside as he'd been shown, so as to straighten out the sigmoid colon. "Just mind your finger nail."
"I was wondering about that," said Maeve, squeezing lotion onto her hand and into Greg's backside. "Head right down… here it comes."

Greg gasped deeply.

"There," Maeve continued, "how does that feel, Greg?"
"Oh, ohh!" Greg gasped again. "Oh, wow, thank you!"

Greg pushed back against Maeve's finger and his bum cleft enveloped her finger up to the knuckly joint. His penis began to harden and lift itself. "Paradise. Maeve, if you work the tip of the finger, you can catch my prostate."
"Like this?"
"Oh, oh!" Greg shouted as Maeve's middle finger pressed the seat of a boy's emotions and the double orgasm engulfed him like a tidal wave. "Christ, I haven't had that for a while."
"More?" Maeve asked, working the finger carefully out and in.
"You bet. Mm, yes, OH! OH, MAEVE! OH, MY GOD!"

Greg suddenly lost control of his penis and let loose a hot jet of urine onto Maeve's skirt and blouse.

"Wow," gasped Maeve, "you're an excited little boy. I bet you're still desperately holding on to some urine in your sexy little bladder. A big heavy pool of urine pushing against the walls and the sphinctre of the bladder, hurting a bit but you are trying hold it in. Perhaps I should push a little harder, like this…"
"Aaah!" Greg pissed again.
"You beauty, Greg. You have drenched my skirt!"
"Sorry," said Greg.
"Sorry," Maeve repeated. "Do you want me to believe that you are sorry, or do you really want to be sorry?"
"I don't know," said Greg.
"Make him sorry," Timmy grinned. "Mom, give Maeve the heavy strap."
"Perhaps we ought to go somewhere quiet," I said. "Greg, do you still need to piss?"
"No," he said, and immediately Maeve pressed his prostate hard. Greg gasped with pleasure and released another pool of hot urine onto Maeve's lap.

The church car park was a mile away. We drove in and parked underneath two large trees, which gave us some concealment from the road.

"Just a moment," I said, "I promised to wait for Peter near the school. That's their dad, Maeve. Just a moment while I phone and tell him where we are."

It took a minute to explain to Peter where we were.

"Right, Greg," I said to the bottomless cutie who was lying on the back seat wriggling on the end of Maeve's prostate finger, "get out of the car and bend over the bonnet with your backside lifted. Maeve, give him what he deserves."
"Yes," said Timmy, "make him cry. He's sexier when he's crying."
"Won't anyone see us?" asked Maeve.
"They won't say or do anything," I reassured her. "They all strap their own children."

Maeve withdrew her finger with a show of reluctance. Greg went and bent over the front of the car and Maeve arranged herself, standing behind Greg, holding the strap, a thick, polished, dark tan strap two inches wide and about eighteen inches long. It was a strap designed for punishment thrashings, meant to instil intense, lasting pain into the buttocks of naughty choldren. Maeve raised it, then Wham! she swung it hard onto Greg's bare buttocks. His eyes closed and he cried with the sudden shock and the throbbing, severe pain of the smack.
"Did that hurt?" she asked.
"Good." Wham! Greg jerked forwards as the strap smashed into his bare bottom again. "Ow."
"Open your legs," said Maeve, and Greg parted his legs a few inches.
"Ow!" Greg jumped as Maeve grabbed his balls and squeezed them.
"You have beautiful balls," said Maeve, really admiring them. "Now keep still."
"Do you have a husband?" Greg asked Maeve.
"Yes. His balls are loose, not hard and small and tightly wrapped like a little boy's."
"He can fuck me if he wants," said Greg.
"Me too," said Timmy, "we both like to be fucked up the ass."
"He has eight inches," said Maeve, caressing the strap, "so you'll feel it going in."
"Spank me again," said Greg, "go on, strap me on— Yow!"

Whack! Maeve brought the strap down hard across Greg's perfect balls. "That ought to make your balls burn for a few minutes. Legs wide apart, please." Maeve seared — Whack! — Greg's sweet bare buttocks again, leaving the whole of his buttocks a deep, throbbing scarlet.

"Jennie?" Maeve called across to me. "I think it's Timmy's turn. Go on, Greg, go and sit in the back, it you can." She kissed his cheek. "I'll come and make love to you later."
"Go on, Timmy," I said.

Timmy leaned over the bonnet of the car and Maeve pushed her oiled middle finger deep into his backside.

"Goodness me, you are a tight boy," she said. "How does that feel?"
"Good, although I get it harder from Dad."
"How about this?"

Maeve pushed her fingertip against the little prostate. Timmy reacted dramatically, His hips thrust hard against the car: thrust, push, thrust, his cock stiffened, his balls tightened and he cried out as the pleasure of the prostate contact shot through him.

"That was pretty good, wasn't it?" Maeve asked him.
"Marvellous."
"One more. There!" Maeve pressed harder against the deep, magical spot.
"Oh, Maeve, Mom, I'm coming!" Timmy's cock raised itself skywards suddenly and he gurgled with pleasure.
"You have the most beautiful bottom," said Maeve, "I shall spank you."
"What for?" asked Timmy, as Maeve withdrew her slender finger from his anus and wiped it with the baby-wipe.
"For making my panties damp," she replied.

Neither Greg nor I, seated inside the car, saw the first spank coming. Maeve stroked Timmy's bottom gently, and then Slap! with a loud crack, her right hand walloped Timmy's butt cheeks, leaving them red and trembling. The smack had landed low on the cheeks, exactly on the sweet spot that women instinctively slap when they need to control a naughty boy by imparting hot, stinging buttocks to calm him down. Timmy started to cry. Maeve stroked his bottom gently, cooing "There, there, Tim, I don't want you to cry," and Slap! another hard spank left the dark red mark of a palm and fingers across his lower buttocks and Timmy shrieked and cried louder. "Oh, Timmy," in the cooing voice of an angel, "I've really stung your buttocks, haven't I?" The slender fingers strayed to Timmy's balls and lifted them, keeping his cock hard and ready to penetrate as he bawled his blue eyes out.

Maeve was an expert spanker. I wondered where she had learned her technique. No wonder she could earn a living as a substitute teacher: one bare bottom smacked hard, one child crying bitterly, wetting his pants and rubbing his backside in front of the class would soon show a rowdy, misbehaving crowd of children what would happen to their butts if they didn't behave. She appeared to have stung Timmy more without the strap than she had heated Greg's butt with it.

"Poor little boy," she said gently. Slap! Timmy burst into flowing tears and his face turned red as the smack turned Timmy's lower buttocks a deep crimson. "Come on, let's get back into the car. Your hard, bare, erect penis must be getting cold."

Maeve sat in the back of the car with the boys on either side of her, her hands gently and expertly working their cocks and balls, keeping them hard as nails but not allowing them to orgasm. Both boys shifted carefully in their seats as their sore, thoroughly beaten buttocks burned and throbbed.

"Where did you learn to spank like that?" I asked her.
"Tennis," said Maeve. "Forehand smashes. When I beat my brother, I spanked him. I soon learned to give him a really powerful, controlling spanking. By the time I finished with him, he would do anything for me. Wouldn't he, Timmy?"
"Yes, Mrs Stephenson," said Timmy. "And what did he do for you?"
"He fucked me," said Maeve in a stage whisper, "he fucked me senseless. You can call me Maeve outside school, Timmy, and you're going to do something special for me in order to avoid another spanking."
"You can spank him again if you want," said Greg, shifting in his seat to try to dodge the pain of his burning buttocks.

The boys both saw their father, Peter, as he walked into the car park, looked around, saw the car and walked towards us. I opened the front passenger door for him.

"Hi, darling, did you have a nice day?"
"Hello, boys," he said to them, "how was school?"
"We made a new friend," said Greg, "her name is Maeve and she spanked us both."
"You must be Maeve, then."
"Yes," said Maeve.
"Why did she spank the two of you? Have you done anything naughty?"
"Not yet," the boys giggled in chorus.
"They were bottomless in the school yard," said Maeve, "and I couldn't resist."
"You don't need to resist," said Peter. "Did you have a school cane with you?"
"No," said Maeve.
"Never mind," said Peter, "you can borrow ours. A two foot junior cane from some school in the nineteen-fifties."
"Right-o," said Maeve, "you can expect six of the best."
"Wow!" Both little boys were keen. "If you talk about spankings for a few more minutes, Dad will start to masturbate."
"I'll provide the relief," I said, putting a hand on Peter's cock through his office trousers and finding his penis already hard.

"All ready to go?" I asked, "Hold tight then." I squeezed Peter's cock with my left hand and drove home one-handed.

"Have you got your house key, Peter?" I asked. "Let them into the house and I'll put the car away. Maeve, the cane's in the downstairs cupboard. The boys will get it for you. Six isn't enough, Maeve, so beat Peter until he screams. Peter, pants completely off, OK?"

The junior school cane looks harmless enough but it really stings. I could hear Peter's squeals and the boys' giggles as I locked the garage. Inside the house, a bottomless Peter stood in the living room holding his left hand out, palm upwards, and Maeve smacked it hard with the cane. Whack!

I heard the timeless dialogue between spanking teachers and naughty boys playing itself out.

"Ow!" said Peter.
"It doesn't hurt yet," said Maeve. "You're a naughty boy." Whack!
"Aagh!"
"You can make him wet himself," I said, holding Peter's penis for an instant just to tease it. "He can clean up afterwards."
"Oh, he will. Now Peter, hand straight out… That's better." Whack!
"Christ! That hurts."
"You're a naughty boy, Peter. What happens to naughty boys, Peter?"
"Naughty boys get the cane, Mrs Stephenson."
"Quite right, Peter. First on the hands and then where?" Whack!
"Ooh!" Peter held back tears as the real pain began to flow into his naughty hand. "On the buttocks, Mrs Stephenson."
"Say it in full, child."
"Naughty boys get the cane, first on the hand and then on the buttocks."
"Quite so. Turn around, Peter, and touch your toes."

Whack! Whack! WHACK! Maeve gave Peter's buttocks a tremendous pasting with the stick. Peter's face showed how great the pain was as the cane smashed his buttocks. Maeve used the stick with tremendous force. Whack! Whack! WHACK!

"Jesus Christ, stop it!" Peter was red faced and fighting back tears.
"Silence."

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Peter's buttocks were crimson with black lines running across, marking the smacks. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

"Stand. Return to the car."

Peter stood, winced as though a grenade had burned his backside, then took a couple of steps towards the car.

"Stand still, boy. Did I say you could rub your backside to relieve the pain?"
"No, Mrs Stephenson."
"No, I did not. Take that smirk off your snivelling face. Touch you toes."

Maeve positioned herself beside my sobbing husband and smacked him again, very hard, with the stick on the backside. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

"We shall try again. Stand. Return to the car in silence."

"Christ, she knows how to use that cane," said Peter, as he sat beside me, while Maeve sat herself between the boys on the back seat and handed the stick back to me.
"Well done," I said to Maeve, "he needed that. Can you visit us every day?"
"You can spank us as well," said Timmy, and Greg added "Yeah, wowser!"

Seeing Peter's bare penis and testicles, I was struck with lust. The penis was small, four inches long, but the balls appeared to be tighter than usual. The small penis was one of the reasons I took boyfriends home. I held the tip of the penis and stroked it, making Peter erect in a few seconds.

"Make me come," said Peter. He shifted in his seat as the pain throbbed in his deep red buttocks.
"Sure, darling." I put one finger under the middle of the shaft, lifted the cock and pumped it in my hand. Peter came quickly, pumping a firm spray of milk onto his legs, the floor and the dashboard. "Hey, that was quick. Weren't you fucking the boys last night?" Peter's ability to repeat his little performance had long ago impressed me.
"He fucked us both," said Timmy unnecessarily. "Dad fucks us until our ass holes hurt."
Maeve looked up from her post-spank rêverie. "Do you like that?"
"Love it," said Greg, "we both love it."
"Do you need any more just now, Peter?" I asked him, but I didn't need to hear the answer. I could feel it. The little penis was already stretching and straightening in my hand. I took the centre of the shaft in my thumb and fingers and gave Peter a full dose of pleasure by wanking it.
"Oh, my," said Peter.
"You should fuck me occasionally, as well as the boys," I said.
"Why should he, mom?" asked Greg, mischievously.
"Because I'm good at it. Ask Noah if you don't believe me."
"Who's Noah?" asked Maeve.
"He's her boyfriend," said Greg. "Black Kenyan man with a cock… it's like being fucked up the ass by a horse."
"Does he fuck you?" Maeve asked.
"Timmy and me and Dad."
"And me," I said.
"Why don't you fuck us?" Timmy asked.
"Hand release until you're older," I said. "You know why."
"Oh." Timmy was disappointed. He kept hoping to go the whole way with me, and his encounters with the cane and with severe pains in the buttocks were often due to his asking for the full sex act.
"No," I told him. "If I let you—"
"Yes!" said Peter, "oh, yes."

I felt his penis pumping its load of hot milk over the seat, the dashboard and the floor of the car.

"Gorgeous, Peter," I said, "you're a sexy boy. You really ought to use that cock more often."
"I will," he told me.
"That's what this ring means," I said, flashing my wedding band, "if means, 'Please fuck me.'"
"Or, I have children and they love being fucked," said Greg.
"Well, yes, that too."
"OK," said Peter, "I'll fuck you tonight."
"Tomorrow," I said, "because Noah's coming round this evening and staying overnight. Expect to get a big Black cock in your ass holes, all three of you. I'll ask him to fuck your mouth, too, Peter. You can fuck me tomorrow."

I looked at Peter and gave him a baby-wipe to clean up the milk.

"OK to go home?"
"I can wait a few minutes," Peter said, although he really wanted another hand job.

We arrived at the house to find Noah waiting for us.

"I let myself in," he said, in that glorious bass voice of his.
"Hand, mouth, or do I take my pants off?" I asked him.
"Excuse me," said Maeve, a little hesitant. "Would you fuck me?"
"You're a forward lady!"
"This is Maeve," I said, "she's working at the school."
"Sit forward in the chair," said Noah, raising Maeve's skirt to her waist, loosening her panties and kneeling in front of her so that his crotch touched her opening. Maeve slid his zip down and the big penis pressed against the labia, parting them and sinking between them.
"Yes — Push a bit harder."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Can we lie down together?"
"Next time, ma'am." The cock slid inside, full length, and Noah's beautiful, lean hips began to pump regularly. "Oh!" Noah sighed, fell forwards onto Maeve and released his milk into her. "Oh, ma'am, you are so beautiful, I really want you naked next time. I haven't even seen you with brassiere off."

Noah pulled out of Maeve, his cock now glistening in the evening light, and he turned to me. "Come on, Jennie, strip off. Those boys are wearing far too much, too." They were each wearing socks and a tee, nothing else. Both boys threw their tees onto the carpet. I lay down and felt Noah lay his muscular, slim weight on top of my body, and the Black cock began to nudge at the special place. Noah slid the cock home slowly but irresistibly firmly.

"Oh," I moaned, "that's magical."
"For me too," I said. "You're the best fuck I ever knew."
"I can feel that you need to come quickly," I smiled, "Why's that, was your girlfriend out of town?"
"Yeah," Noah smiled back, "all of them."
"Never mind. Push. Push, oh, that is perfect."

I lay quietly feeling Noah's penis swell and explore my little love canal. He must have been away from his women friends for a few days, because he was agitated and he came after a few thrusts. "Lovely," I said, "maybe Maeve can help too."

Maeve wrapped her handkerchief around Noah's cock to dry it off and then pumped it slowly and gently, acting as a deliberate tease. "Don't come yet," she said, "I spank for disobedience. I adore Black men too. Those big, hard, straight cocks, and those massive, sexual balls are a dream. I would marry every Black man on the planet and they could fuck me all day. Noah, when you've pumped a load for me, you can use Jennie's boys. I think you'll need a few minutes of teasing before you squirt again."
"I'm in no hurry," said Noah.
"I'll see how long I can keep you on edge," Maeve said, and kissed Noah on the mouth. "Don't you dare come yet."
"That feels so good," Noah gasped, "where did you learn to prick tease like that?"
"Local milk bar," Maeve giggled. "It was dark. The boys met us girls there. We got their cocks out and I could keep the boys on their cusp for an hour."
"Ever had one of them pump his milk over you?" I asked.
"Every single one," said Maeve, "not straight away, mind, but after a long teasy-weasy. I wasn't going to get pregnant."

Maeve changed her spot, moving her attentive hands from the middle of the shaft to the base, one hand holding the cock, the other gently squeezing those massive balls. "Don't you dare come yet," he told him, and kissed him again on the mouth. Then she dipped her head, wrapped her lips around Noah's cock and worked the tip delicately with her tongue. The effect was instant. Noah pumped his load down Maeve's throat. "Wow," he breathed, "just wow."

Maeve swallowed the milk. "You can pump a big load, Noah," she said, admiringly. "Want to fuck my ass? I'll give you another long prick tease."
"Yeah." Noah was not in the least tired, and his cock responded to Maeve's skilful touch immediately. If anything it was longer and straighter as Maeve manipulated it than when she had been stimulating it with her tongue.
"Peter," I said, "why don't you take the boys upstairs?"

My beautiful husband and the two beautiful little boys, naked, went to their room. I heard the boys gasp with pleasure as Peter began to massage their sensitive little balls.

"Noah," I said, watching Maeve caress him and kiss him, "Piss on Maeve for me."

Noah pulled away from Maeve slightly, turned to one side and pissed hard, directing a hot golden jet directly onto Maeve's face. Maeve opened her mouth and drank the piss. Noah could piss hard and he directed the straight, fragrant urine into her mouth. Maeve swallowed several mouthfuls and splashed hot piss down the front of her overalls.

"Gosh," she said, "you're good at that."
"Open your mouth again, Maeve," said Noah.

Noah directed another straight squirt of piss into Maeve's mouth. She swallowed, then resumed pumping his cock in her right hand.

"Thanks, Noah," I said, knowing that my turn to drink hot piss from the tip of a big, Black cock would not be long in coming.