I have a confession to make and those of you who know me will say that it can’t be so but it is. I seduced, yes, I said seduced, two impressionable young men barely out of high school – tall, athletic boys with thick hair and thin waists. I let my lustful inner demon run my life (for only a short time, of course) and I hope that I didn’t ruin theirs. 

It happened when I was at the cabin that I stole from my ex during the settlement. He wanted it, I got it (yes, deservedly out of spite) but there was a stipulation that I had to spend so many days a year there, otherwise, it would revert to him. And so, there I was.

Don’t get me wrong. The woods and the lake were lovely to look at from a distance. Many of my jigsaw puzzles had similar scenes. But there was nothing lovely about the insects or the muck and weeds around the shoreline. And don’t get me started about that patch of sand the pollyannas called a “beach.”  

And even though I’ve since found some charm in that mountain lake, I still believe that electricity and a well-hidden cell phone tower wouldn’t hurt anything. They could put the tower in a tree or something. God knows there are enough of them. 

My story began one August day with those two older women – you know the ones, they had that cabin close to the community beach – uh-huh, those two. Well, they had pulled the tops of their swimsuits down again, and just because you can’t see anybody nearby doesn’t mean that the residents in these parts don’t own binoculars. My ex-husband's pair weren’t even that good and I could see their tits plain as day. 

I stopped complaining to the landowners' association even before the divorce. “What’s the harm?” they’d ask. As long as no children were around, almost everyone else was fine with it. I suppose that being in the woods meant that you could toss civilized behavior aside along with the electricity. 

Two boys were coming down the trail to the beach and I thought, “Good, they’ll catch them and tell their parents and that will be that.” But it wasn’t. The women must have heard them because they nonchalantly covered themselves up in time. Maybe they knew each other and maybe they didn’t but they all chatted while the boys took their shirts off. 

It was good to see that some parents still teach their children the importance of keeping fit and not spending all their time playing those video game box things. These young men had good posture and broad shoulders and muscles that said that they weren’t afraid of a little hard work. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on either of them – no, sir, not an ounce. 

They were good-looking boys too, from what I could see through those old binoculars. I made a mental note that since I had to spend time in these woods then I should at least get a better pair. 

I made myself comfortable and watched them swim since I had nothing better to do. There’s a big raft by the beach and they jumped off that and sometimes they’d dive which made me nervous because the water wasn’t all that deep there. 

They were something to watch when they did – those strong, taut bodies sailed through the air and glided just below the lake’s surface when they hit. They swam back to the raft as graceful as dolphins and climbed up with their hair plastered to their heads and their swim trunks plastered to those cute behinds. 

Some folks have called me a prude and that’s not true at all, no, sir, not at all. I simply think that one should keep those kinds of feelings to one’s self, in the privacy of one’s thoughts, and at a respectable distance. When women start pointing at young tushes and gushing over them in public, well, that’s when society collapses and they stop building cell phone towers. 

Can you guess what happened next? I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but those boys were standing on the raft talking with those women on the beach, who were laughing and gesturing, and the next thing you know, those boys dropped their trunks to the deck and exposed their fronts and backs in front of God and those women and me as if I wasn’t looking. 

The women on the beach leapt to their feet and laughed and clapped and the hooligans on the raft just took a bow and jumped into the water stark naked! Naked as in I could see their penises and testicles flop when they were in the air.  

Apparently, the water wasn’t as cold as I thought it would be. 

I could almost excuse them because boys will be boys but then the women took their suits off and splashed after them into the lake. They should have been ashamed of themselves. Thankfully they waded in far enough to cover up and they bobbed in the water while the boys jumped up and dove under, and I made a game of finding their exposed heinies when they did. 

I am not a “perv.” I trust you meant “pervert.” I’m not one of those either. They were the ones bouncing and flouncing in public. I was simply minding my own business. 

Yes, with a pair of binoculars. I don’t understand your point. 

After they finally covered up, I had no choice but to find out who their parents were and let them know what happened. I wouldn’t be judgmental, I’m not like that, no, sir, not at all, but it was only right that they know. 

Fortunately, I only had to speak with one set of parents. Their son, Billy, had brought his friend, Bobby, with him to the lake. I told them the facts of what I saw without interjecting any of my own opinions. I said they were naked in public which of course they shouldn’t have been. I warned them about the old women who obviously led their fine boys astray. 

Yes, I understand the irony, considering what happened later, but we needn’t go into that. 

The dad mentioned that his son was over eighteen, which didn’t matter, so I repeated my concerns. Once I was sure that they understood everything that I had been saying, I left them to their business. 

I didn’t sleep well that night. I kept having dreams about those young men. They were naked in the lake, naked on the trails, naked playing basketball… The next thing I knew they were naked in my bed and I was naked too. I wanted to get them to leave but you know how dreams can be. I tried to scream for them to get out but instead, all I could utter was, “Nyuhg.” 

“What’s that?” Billy said. “You want us to tug on your pretty titties?” 

That wasn’t even close to what I said and I was so exasperated that I had to repeat myself. “Nyuh-nyuhg!” 

“What’s that?” Bobby said. “You want us to hump your luscious thighs with our impressive phalluses?” 

They started to rub their long, hard, long penises against me and they kept squeezing and tugging my titties (which I like, but that isn’t the point), and I tried to tell them what I thought of all that but they just said, “Our fingers? You want us to put our fingers where, you dirty girl?” 

I remember shuddering myself awake after that and my pajama top was up and my pajama bottoms were down, my titties were sore (in a good way, but that’s not the point), and my fingers were sticky. There was nothing to do after that except shower, change my clothes, and put clean sheets on the bed. 

I resolved that if they went swimming again I wouldn’t watch as much. 

~~~ 

The next morning, I was having my usual breakfast of yogurt and fruit when there was a knock at the door. I peeked through the curtains and saw those two boys, wearing the same trunks they wore yesterday, some flip-flops, and t-shirts. I was quite upset at first considering how ill-behaved they had been last night but then I remembered that it was all a nightmare. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Johnson,” Billy said. “We came to apologize for yesterday.” 

“Yeah, we’re sorry. We didn’t know anyone could see us.” 

Since they were gracious enough to apologize, I was gracious enough to accept. Besides, who could stay mad at such fine-looking young men? 

Then Billy elbowed Bobby, or the other way around. I could never keep them straight until, you know, when I did. 

“Would you like to go out in the boat with us? Mom said that you should get out into the daylight.” 

At first, I was going to say, “No, thank you,” because of what would people think, but then I could tell that they would have been disappointed had I said no. Besides, I felt that I could be a good influence on them, unlike those two wicked women at the beach. 

They were happy that I accepted, yes, sir, I could tell, and I told them to wait for me to get my boat shoes. 

“You should put your swimsuit on, ma’am,” one of them said through the closing door. 

“Why?” I got suspicious then that they might tip the boat over on purpose. 

“It’s what Mom said. Sunshine, you know. Vitamin-D.” 

That made a lot of sense to me so after I closed my door and locked it, I changed into my suit. Adding a cover-up, wide-brimmed hat, sunglasses, and sturdy yet stylish sandals, I was ready for my adventure. I brought a life preserver too. 

I looked good in my suit. Unlike those degenerate women (who I suspect might be, well, you know), I had gone to great lengths to deny myself anything and everything that would negatively affect my appearance – no, sir, nothing. I was as trim as I was in my teens and twenties. I’d like to mention that despite what Mother’s doctor told her, I never had an eating disorder. Lots of girls my age vomited back then. 

I suppose I should mention my breasts – they’re tasteful. 

When I met the boys by the dock, I discovered that their “boat” was a canoe. Fearing again that this might be a prank, I asked them whether this was the vessel they had in mind from the start. 

“Yes, ma’am,” said Billy (or Bobby). “Don’t worry about tipping or anything. We do this all the time.” 

They pointed out the additional seat in the middle, one with a padded bottom and back. With visions of Cleopatra on her barge, I handed them my beach bag, accepted their help getting in, and took my place in the center. 

They paddled us along the length of the small lake and I must say that I enjoyed the ride. We were aiming toward shore when Bobby (or Billy) asked if I wanted to go swimming. I was confused because the designated swimming area was far behind us, where the cabins were. 

“See those big rocks over there? There are flat rocks under the water and bigger stones. The water is deep and there’s no mud.” 

“The boulders are a great place to rest in the sun,” the other one said. “Folks don’t usually come this far out.” 

That there was no mud appealed to me and my legs were getting a little crampy anyway. They tied the canoe to a log and I swapped my sandals for water shoes. My gentlemen helped me to a flat spot on the boulder where I liberally applied lotion and admired the view as they swam. 

Get your mind out of the gutter; I was talking about the trees and such. Although, since you were the one to bring it up, I’ll admit that they were fine examples of youthful masculinity. 

They clambered up the big rock next to me and I hardly noticed how their trunks clung to every ridge, crevice, and curve of their bodies. However, I did notice how red their shoulders were as they repeatedly jumped feet-first into the deep pool below. 

“Boys? Boys!” I called to them. “Did your mother send any sunscreen with you?” 

“No, ma’am, but we’ll be okay.” 

I made a mental note to talk to Billy’s mother, or Bobby’s, and told them to come over to me. “Turn around,” I said. It was a good thing I noticed their impending burn because as I slowly rubbed the lotion across their smooth, muscular backs, they were giving off so much heat that it made me flush. 

Since my hands were already covered with lotion, I massaged it up and down their well-defined arms and legs and their almost hairless chests. Nature or nurture? When I met the father earlier, he had a shirt on, so I wasn’t sure. They thanked me and went back to jumping and swimming. 

After a while, they took a break and sat with me and we chatted some. 

“Mrs. Johnson? Can I ask why you told my mom and dad about us skinny dipping?” 

I had been thinking a lot about their skinny dipping and wanted them to feel comfortable about why I did it. 

“You two should know that I believe that the human body is sacred and beautiful. I really do – I know people who grew up in the sixties. I didn’t tell your mother what I saw because I’m some sort of prude, which I most certainly am not, but I was afraid of the bad influence those two women might have had on impressionable young men such as yourselves.” 

“We never thought you were like that,” one of them said. 

“Does that mean it’s okay with you if we were to swim in the nude right now?” 

I took a deep breath and casually told them that if they wanted to go swimming sans suits that I wouldn’t feel the need to mention it to their mother – whichever one’s mother she was. 

They nudged each other and stood to drop their trunks on the rock. Their heinies looked even better up close, and that’s all I’ll say about that. 

Except, one of them had the cutest tuft of hair below the small of his back. He had almost no tush at all and I didn’t need much lotion when I insisted on applying it. The other one (Billy or Bobby – you do understand that up to that moment, they were interchangeable, don’t you?) had a plumper, rounder one that needed more attention. 

I might as well get this part out of the way. I decided that Billy was the uncircumcised one with smaller testicles and Bobby had heavier ones and a longer penis. No, I didn’t put lotion down there because that would have been crossing a line. 

They went to the other rock but before they jumped, Billy asked if I wanted to jump with them.  

I politely declined and they seemed disappointed. 

“We thought that since you’re so much younger than our moms, you’d still be into doing stuff like that.” 

“How old are your mothers?” I ventured. 

“I dunno, exactly. Forty-something.” 

“Yeah. Forty-two, maybe.” 

“Forty-two or forty-one.” 

“So, you think I’m in my thirties?” 

“Yeah, aren’t you? Shit, you’re not twenty-something are you? Damn, sorry, I’m no good at guessing shit like that.” 

I told them they were close enough. “Let’s jump!” 

Yes, I'm well aware that I'm forty-eight. What’s your point? 

We held hands at the edge of the big rock, a rose in a thorny situation between two naked men, and they pulled me with them before I had a chance to rethink my age. I screamed all the way down with my arms in the air and my eyes closed. 

The impact into the cool lake jarred my grip on the boys’ hands loose and I swam the short distance to the surface. 

“Woo-hoo! Way to go, Mrs. J!” 

I swam to the nearby big flat rock that was just under the lake’s surface and sat there, half in the water. “That’s higher up than I thought.” 

They sat on either side of me and even though the water was clear, the reflection kept me from seeing their bottom halves – not that I was looking. 

“Hey, Mrs. Johnson – how come you’re not skinny dipping? I’d understand it if you were as old as my mom.” 

That took me by surprise. I couldn’t think of a reason why a slightly older woman shouldn’t be swimming naked with a couple of eighteen-year-olds. Then it occurred to me that my being clothed was making them uncomfortable! And yet, I would have been uncomfortable being nude in front of them, no matter how good I looked! 

“If you want, you can strip underwater. We won’t look while you do.” 

I had no recourse so I slipped off the rock and into the deeper water, deep enough that I had to bob on tiptoes to keep my face above the surface. I took a breath, submerged, and came up with my suit in my hands. 

It was quite freeing but I was somewhat worried about fish. 

Billy bounced up and dove under, Bobby bounced up and dove under, and I did not. They resurfaced a few yards away and I swam toward them with no bouncing. I was having a lot of fun and was thankful for all of the hours I had spent in the club’s pool. (That’s the club membership that I got in the settlement.) 

By the time I climbed back up onto my sunny rock, I had forgotten that I was nude. I had also forgotten to bring my suit up with me – it was still draped over the side of the canoe. I broke out my sunscreen but Billy snatched it away. 

“Please, allow us,” Bobby said. Fair was fair, I reckoned, and I was fairer than most. I stood nude on my rock in front of God and my boys, and perhaps that glint of light off in the distance meant that some pervert was watching us through their binoculars. I made a mental note to bring that to the association’s attention. 

The two of them covered me with lotion, lingering longer in some places than was needed, but boys will be boys. Their hands were strong and gentle. If I wasn’t in my low-to-mid-thirties, I’d be having impure thoughts about them. Glancing down, I would have said they were having impure thoughts about me. 

We lay side by side on the rock. I might have dozed but one of them broke the silence. 

“Mrs. Johnson, can I ask you something?” 

My heart leapt. I was about to be a confidante for these young men – a role model. I told them, “Of course!” 

“It’s about girls.” 

That was my opportunity to guide them on a man’s role in a healthy relationship. “Go ahead.” 

“What turns a girl on more, you know, to get them ready for sex? Bobby says sucking their tits does it but I say you gotta finger ‘em a lot first. Or does kissing do it all by itself?” 

I needed to think for a moment. I thought they were going to ask about opening doors and such. In hindsight, lying there naked should have been a clue. I thought it best to be noncommittal. “It depends on the woman.” 

“Well,” Bobby said, rolling on his side toward me. “Does this do anything for you?” 

He kissed me then, gently but right on my lips. I was stunned, yes, sir, but pleasantly so. I was about to answer but after I licked and parted my pouty lips, he kissed me again with open mouths and probing tongues. I was afraid that I was about to lead him down the wrong path but I was also afraid of being dismissive of an inexperienced young man, and so I continued to kiss him back. 

No, no I don’t think I ever answered his question, not in so many words. 

“I’m telling you, they like their tits sucked!” From the other side, Bobby crudely yet effectively snatched one of my tits into his mouth and sucked on it like he was getting a milkshake through a paper straw. I would have said something encouraging him but my mouth was full. Instead, I lifted the tit in question and squashed more of it into his mouth. Either he was a fast learner or (more likely) I was a good teacher. 

My bottom half was squirming somewhat with a lot of involuntary clenching and unclenching.  

Billy broke the kiss and said, “Hey, Bob, you might be right,” and he slid down and sucked on my other one. 

Ladies, if you can ever get both tits sucked simultaneously, I highly recommend it. Who knew? It was so enjoyable that I almost didn’t ask one of them to get my lip balm out of my bag for me. 

Billy grabbed my thigh, pulled it toward him a little, and stroked between my pussy lips. “I still think you need to finger them,” he said to his friend. “Need” might not have been the correct word but I thought it best to let him explore. 

“Is she wet?” 

“Hang on.” 

I was. 

“She is.” 

“Let me see.” 

Ladies, if you can ever get two men to finger-fuck you at the same time, I highly recommend it. They got bonus points for sucking my tits some more. I’m glad that all my squirming didn’t deter them any. One of my fingers joined theirs as I gave my clit some attention. 

“I told you that was important,” one of them said. 

“Is she wet enough to be fucked?” 

I was. 

“How the fuck am I supposed to know?” said whoever it was kissing me. “Mrs. J, are you wet enough to get fucked?” 

Yesyesyesyesyes. “I suppose I am,” I said.  

I lifted my head and opened my eyes. Do you remember back when I suspected that the lake wasn’t cold enough to shrink the boys’ penises? I was wrong. I was very wrong. These two young men must have been very proud of their phalluses. I was very, very wrong. 

The boys pulled my legs apart and Billy climbed onto me. Granted, I have a dainty hand but I couldn’t get it all the way around him when I guided him in. My pussy was getting stretched more than it had ever been – I had never been happier about being wrong in my entire life. He got his cock wet with a few strokes (I can’t believe I used that word, no, sir, but it’s the best word) and he began thrusting in earnest. 

This unexpected coital activity was quite pleasurable and I was certain that I was heading for a satisfying climax but within a few seconds, he stopped thrusting and began throbbing. The power of its youthful jets would have been more exciting had he lasted a bit longer. 

“Dude!” Bobby laughed. “Already? Move over.” 

“I couldn’t help it. She’s so fucking tight!” 

Before I could thank Billy for the compliment, Bobby easily plunged his huge cock into my cum-filled cunt (there’s that word again, and another bad one) and vigorously thrust. “Damn, Mrs. J, you have got to have the best pussy ever!” 

I wanted to thank him but all I could get out was, “Th-th-th-th-th…” Instead, I moaned and carved grooves into the rock with my nails.  

“Yeah, I think she likes it,” Billy said. “I want another turn.” With that, he straddled my face and stuck his cock into my mouth, mid-moan. 

I angrily shook my head and slapped his leg. He pulled out right away and I yelled at him to put my bag under my head. Young men have so much to learn. I opened wide for him again after that. Feeling him regain its thickness and length, I only had to bite down on it a couple of times. I, for one, do not like to gag. 

The closer the cock in my cunt was bringing me to an orgasm, the less attention I paid to the one in my mouth. I raised my knees, and he kept pounding. I grabbed onto my ankles and pulled them in, and he kept pounding. I lifted my feet from the rock, and he kept pounding. I heaved my legs toward the sky and there it was, “V” for “Victory.” 

And he kept pounding, but not for long. Spurt after spurt of his hot semen mingled with what was left of his friend’s and my own copious stream. Between the two of them, I was quite happy with the outcome and planned on telling them as soon as I caught my breath – they were in their late teens and I was in my low-to-mid-thirties, after all. 

Now, now, it’s how old they thought I was that mattered. 

The boys high-fived, which I thought was cute, and I noticed that Billy’s erection was fully formed again. Too bad, I thought. Not knowing exactly what a man would do in this situation, I imagined that he would masturbate out in the woods and wondered whether he’d let me watch. Instead, the second after Bobby pulled his flaccid penis from me, Billy jabbed his cock right back in. 

“Oh! Well! Okay,” I said. Then it occurred to me that he had to prove his manhood to his friend and so I moaned a little more than was my wont, just to help him out. And if I was to get an unprecedented second orgasm out of it, then so be it. There was a chance – I was still sensitive and he was still thrusting. 

While Billy was fucking me (and holding off much better than before), Bobby stuck his cock in my mouth. “Oh! Wehrf. O-ay.” I said. I grasped Billy’s hips with my feet as he kept up his ardent thrusts. I tugged at Bobby’s sack every time he got too close to my tonsils until I realized that he took that as encouragement so I resorted to my previous biting tactic. 

I gave Billy a thumbs-up when I came for the second time but I don’t think he saw me because he just kept fucking me. I was afraid that all this thrusting might get to be tedious but then I felt like I could possibly cum yet again, which was absurd, because who has three orgasms in a row?  

Spoiler alert – me! That’s who, yes, sir! He grunted that he was about to cum. I humped him back, spit the cock out from my throat, and shouted, “Don’t you fucking dare!” because although he was the one doing the excavating, I was the one reaching for gold. 

Aaaannd…Jackpot! 

I giggled like a girl in her low-to-mid-thirties, still very sensitive when he emptied himself inside of me. I watched our sexual fluids pour out, certain that the next rain would wash them away and I wouldn’t have to do anything about it. 

While somewhat abashed over my behavior of taking advantage of these two young men for my own carnality, I nevertheless hoped that they had gotten something out of our tryst as well. However, my introspection was premature, much like Billy’s first cum dump (although he more than made up for it). 

“Move over, asshole,” Bobby said as he shoved his friend aside. It seemed that he wanted another turn, which I thought was fair. He probably wanted to give me another orgasm because at this point, they probably had me up on a pedestal and you know how competitive boys are.  

“There’s no need to get rough,” I said, splayed and exhausted, and yet willing to balance things out. Bobby told Billy to give him a hand and they lifted me to my feet. For a very brief moment, I thought that we were done but then Bobby bent me in half (I’m very limber, as you might assume) and took me from behind. 

“Well, I never!” I exclaimed, which was true, but I wish that I had. 

Lying on my back for coitus had been perfectly fine throughout my marriage, but now I suspect that this is what my ex had in mind when he always told me, “For God’s sake, don’t just lay there,” which was irksome because the correct conjugation would have been, “Don’t just lie there.” I blame him for not being clear. 

In any event, Bobby’s hips slammed against my firm, round (but not too round) behind, which was a sensation in of itself that I resolved to explore in the future. Billy must have noticed how unstable I was feeling because he placed his cock into my mouth again to keep me from falling forward. 

Bobby said, “Let me know when you’re ready,” and I couldn’t answer but I was more than ready and took that as my cue to climax for the fourth time. I thank God that the boys’ cocks were where they were, otherwise, I would have fallen over. 

“Ready when you are, Dude,” Billy said and they helped me to my knees and rubbed their cocks inches away from my face. I was confused about what they were doing and it occurred to me that this must have been the way that young men of their generation applauded a good sexual performance. 

“Huzzah!” I exclaimed and clapped my hands together in return. I can only imagine how embarrassed they were when their cock-rubbing caused them to ejaculate all over my face. “That's okay, I know you didn’t mean it,” I assured them. 

I cleaned up in the lake and struggled to get my wet suit back on. As we paddled back to the cabins, I asked if they had any questions about what we did and how they felt about it. True to their gender, they mostly grunted short replies. 

I followed them so that I could tell Billy’s parents what gentlemen the boys were and that nothing at all happened while we were alone in the woods. I gave the boys a discreet wink when I left – their secret was safe with me. 

As I walked away, I heard Billy’s father ask, “So, you took her for a ride?” I thought it was sweet that it was the father’s idea for the boys to take me out in the canoe. 

What do you mean, “That’s not what he meant?”