While she knew how she arrived in country, Pam was having trouble remembering how she ended up, here. Doing this.
Face down in the pillow, bum in the air being very nicely rogered very nicely indeed thank you very much, by a complete unknown.
She and the girls, known to themselves and their men folk as “Club fifty”, were on holiday, celebrating birthdays gone by during lockdown. Each of them was aged from fifty to fifty four, and all were reasonably fit. Pam in particular, while looking her age, looked good, a bit saggy and soft but with curves in the right places, a proper milf. Her white teeth gleamed.
The very nice fucking she was getting was the first outside of her thirty year marriage, and it felt wrong. But very very welcome. Guilt played a part in the hard orgasm she was coming down from as the healthy cock ploughed on.
The first night out the girls had pulled. Not that they had any intention of doing so, it just, well, happened. Pam was having difficulty recalling events due to alcohol and the fantastic feeling of being well used by a man of whom she had no recollection.
The bar was lively and all the girls were dressed for the heat, thin cotton outfits, Pam's buttoning from décolletage to just above the knee, and showing her full figure to the good. The young men, early twenties, just sort of materialised on the dance floor and inveigled their way into the evening.
Pam lost out again as, due to the continued long, deep strokes of the anonymous young man, a strong feeling built in her stomach and nether regions leading to another orgasm, taking her breath momentarily.
Walking back to the hotel in the wee small hours, a turning onto a smaller street was more or less unnoticed, as were the arms around waists, or, on bums. The metal staircase with a wooden door at the top was a sign that the hotel was not the destination, but the promise of more drinks was most inviting.
Pam was aware that her lover had finished, into a condom thankfully, but was surprised to be refilled before she could move. Another cock was making it hard to think as it plumbed depths long untouched.
A drink and a kiss and cuddle on the sofa flashed through Pam's thoughts, some over the dress action and a stroking of a crotch holding a promise of meaty delight.
The ministrations happening to her own crotch were speeding up and getting harder, bringing another orgasm to a very confused wife and mother. She moaned loudly as it hit.
With a grunt her lover filled his condom, and as his rod shrank, he withdrew and left the bed, slowly. Pam, comfortably knackered, fell to her right, and rolled onto her back, wondering if she dare open her eyes. Someone spoke.
“How'd you do Gerry, any luck?”
“No mate, bit of a grope and that was it.”
“Well, Pam's game, go on.”
Still wondering if she could open her eyes, Pam felt someone climb onto the bed and lift her legs, placing them on their shoulders. She took a breath as if to speak when a voice just above her said;
“Thanks, Pam, you're a real sport!” And she was once more impaled by a hard, velvety length of cock, which, pushed hard into her for its whole length, made her eyes open of their own accord.