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Fear. Panic. Numbness. Did I feel anything?
“Show us those titties, girl,” they taunted.
“Let’s see what you got!” the smaller one in the baggy football jersey said with a huge smile.
“My boys want some and we know you want to give it so let’s get moving,” the clerk said with confidence.
“Oh, such false modesty for a slut with cum dripping from her face,” laughed Brian’s mom as she reached over and lifted the front of my crop-top.
“What kind of slut where’s a bra?” asked the tall one with the shaved head. “This ‘ho needs some work.”
“Yes, she does,” she said nodding in agreement. “Hold up your top.”
Using both hands, I kept my top up in front of my face. Frozen in the moment, I could only do what I was told. Thinking and feeling were well beyond my current capabilities. Approaching the table from the left was a small group of teenagers – Oh my god, no! I recognized the tall blonde as Ashley, a friend of my daughter’s. Gripped by panic I bowed a bit and shook my head violently, encouraging my cum-stained hair to somewhat cover my face. Keeping my top up, I was at least for the moment, anonymous.
Giggling, the kids approached and joined my audience. “She looks good enough to eat,” said one of the guys.
“Yeah, better than this sundae,” added a female voice. I couldn’t dare look to identify.
Tingling with excitement, I was lost in my predicament.
Brian’s mom took control. “A sundae, huh?” Dropping a scoop ardahan escort of ice cream into my bra, “This will do just fine,” as she added a cherry to the scoop in my cleavage.
The laughter was deafening from the group. I don’t know where I found the strength to keep my face covered but I did. Peaking down through the neckline I could see the marbled ice cream and cherry tucked in my bra – oh, it was so cold! “Brian needs to see this,” as she clicked the camera on her cell phone. “Hold still.”
Click, click. It sounded like a few of them were snapping pictures. “Stand up,” was the command. I obeyed.
One by one they took turns eating the ice cream. The excitement was overwhelming. All of this people, licking my chest…my nipples felt like they would burst through the bra! The dampness between my legs was certainly running down my leg. Their taunting and name calling, “Bitch, ho’, slut, cunt,” lit me up! Humiliated and bursting with excitement, I was the live sundae in the food court!
For a brief moment, I let the t-shirt drop a bit and my eyes locked on Ashley. Did she recognize me? Her eyes revealed a coolness, a detachment but did not tip her recognition one way or the other. Quickly I covered my face.
“Break it up over here,” commanded the latest arrival. Whew! This mall does have security. “Back to school you kids. Shows over. Everyone, move on!” said the man in blue.
Everyone scattered. In a daze, artvin escort I headed for the exit. Will the cop just let me walk away? Thankfully, yes! Out into the parking lot, the sun hit me like a ton of bricks. After all of the events of the day, as I composed myself, my only concern was where I parked. Where is my car? I smiled, enjoying the irony of the moment. Images of the day dominated my thoughts – sucking cocks, cumming on my face, flashing shoppers in the dressing room, ice cream titties, how different was today? My thoughts were interrupted by my cell phone. Panic disturbed me as I recognized the number as my husband’s. Should I even answer?
“Hello,” I mumbled, mustering all of the normalcy available. Enthusiastically, he told me about his goings on. He and my daughter had left me alone to visit colleges for a few days. He asked if I minded if they extended their trip a day or two. “No, I’m fine. Enjoy yourselves,” I offered supportively. It’s a good thing that he is a talker and not a listener because I don’t think I could have carried my side of a conversation at that point.
“OK. Thanks. Love ya’, bye!” he said as dialtone took over my ear. After a few more minutes of wandering I found my car and headed home. I love my husband and felt guilty about my day. I knew that I was out of control but why did it feel so good? So natural? I must have driven home okay, but have no memory of the drive. Somehow, I made it back to my bodrum escort kitchen.
“Hey, I want to show you my book. It’s done,” I turned to see Brian walking through the door. The sight of his curly hair made me smile. “23 pages of you, it is awesome!” he said with great confidence, reverently placing the now bound book on my table. “Too bad I didn’t have the ice cream shot from mom’s phone in time,” he added with a huge smile and laugh. “Did you get enough attention, today?” he asked sarcastically. Firmly grabbing my hand, he guided me into a chair and slowly turned the pages of his prized book for me.
The picures that I saw on his wall have now been organized, artfully I must add, into a pictorial essay. “Soccer Mom,” read the title. Annotated text commented throughout about the myriad of duties and activities driving my day. He is talented. It was obvious. The last few pages revealed my most important tasks and my highest skills, in his mind, “Sex Goddess,” he stated with a smile. The back cover was the “money shot,” he explained. The picture of my face covered with his jism.
“Won’t this get you arrested?” I asked.
“No, it will get me an ‘A’, I’m certain.”
Zip…hearing a familiar sound I turned my head and was greated by his growing penis. “Hear, take care of this. Every good slut needs to suck a cock before dinner,” he chuckled to himself. He shot his load all over my face, again and I dutifully licked him clean.
Turning to leave he said, “What a great slut you are, huh? Fucking, sucking and licking your day away, what a cunt!”
His words moved my hands into action. I dug into my own pussy with such a vengeance that I had never known. “Look at you,” he exclaimed. “Just can’t get enough,” closing the door behind him.
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