The weather was just too hot, there was no way you could stay inside, and a fine day in Dublin was so rare, that you had to take advantage of it. It was part of Irish culture; on the one sunny day you got each year, you had to get out and go for a full burn.

I’d decided, as always, to walk up to the Phoenix Park. It was going to be packed as fuck there, but if you put the effort in to walk beyond the main field, there was a lightly wooded part near the back of the park, where the crowds were manageable, and you might find a few serious sun-seekers laying out solo in bikinis.

Even if I looked great in a bikini, the world wasn’t ready for it me to live that sort of life, and besides, the shade of the lighter wooded areas of the field was my thing. Being Irish, I was still going to burn, but I’d sooner play the odds rather than just cast to the winds.

This area of the park was perfect; the cover started off light enough before the coverage became steadily heavier as you headed deeper into the woodland proper.

It was no imposition, sitting away from the crowd, so finding a nice shaded tree at the edge of the green space was perfect.

Setting my back against it, I didn’t even need headphones and light music to block the sound of the world, and I settled in to have a good read.

Time passed, as it does on a sunny day, and I really felt myself starting to relax. Now and again, I caught movement beyond my pages, and my eyes naturally flickered to catch men walking through the trees, heading for the deeper coverage, no doubt looking for a private spot to pee.

Judging by the people going back and forth, I must have inadvertently sat myself right on the main thoroughfare to the de-facto toilets. It was a pain in the arse to move after getting settled, but the odds were that I may be leaning against a tree that had been pissed on in the recent past, and that thought robbed me of the comfort I’d found in the pages of my book.

I collected myself to walk on and decided that secluded spots for a wee might be harder to find after leaving this area, so I followed in the footsteps of the men I'd seen travelling into the woods and the opportunity to relieve myself. I didn’t really need to go, but when chances were rare, you had to take them.  

I followed the tracks, back deeper into the woods, I noticed that the trail was very well worn, but still just beaten down green grass; giving the impression that a lot of people had been out here, but only today, because surely then the trail would have been dirt and not grass.

I was looking for a likely tree, now I was far enough from the crowd of the green field, and noticed that a group of guys had chosen to stand together, as though they were bunched around a urinal stall or something.

It was clear they weren’t standing there having a chat because their posture clearly betrayed that they all had their dicks in hand.

I couldn’t help but shake my head, it was just a really odd sight; it was one thing seeing guys bunched up like that when they had no choice, but there was an unwritten etiquette, which every man knew without being told; that even in a confined area – such a public bathroom – you always gave each other as much space as possible.

So, why in the fuck were these guys choosing to stand like that? Unless… I mean, was someone laying there hurt?

I’m no Doctor, and if there really was some sort of emergency in progress, I was going to be literally no help, but I started walking towards the group, my curiosity completely dispelling any thought of actually needing to take a piss.

As I made my way over to the semi-circled group of six men, I became increasingly confused by the way they all stood with one hand out in front of them; there really was only one reason why men stood in that pose.

My footsteps finally became audible to the group, causing a few eyes to flicker very briefly my way and one man to actually turn his body to face me. My eyes flickered down on their own accord, confirming that he did indeed have his dick in hand and was clearly very, very erect.

The sight of his hard cock made me hesitate – what the hell had I walked in on – but the guy winked and made a come-on gesture with his head, which if anything had me more inclined to turn tail and make beat a retreat.

The bold way that he continued to wank his cock in the brief moment we had made eye contact was brazen to the point of disbelief, but as he so clearly didn’t give a fuck, it gave me the confidence to continue on and take an empty spot in the semi-circle.

On the grass, forming the centre of the groups' attention, was a woman leaning back against a tree, with her legs spread wide, skirt bunch around her waist, and a thin white shirt fully open, revealing her full and heavy breasts.

There was no sign of underwear, either about her person, or discarded on the ground around, which meant that she’d walked here, at least to this secluded area, and maybe through the busy park itself, wearing nothing but the obviously very short skirt, and a white shirt that would certainly become see-through when wet, and the woman had such a large, sexy pair of tits, that there was no way she wasn’t going to be hot on a day when the weather was thirty-plus centigrade.

The woman wasn’t stick-thin, but even had she been, her tits would’ve been the centre of attention; carrying a little extra weight, as she was, they were absolute show-stealers.

Bigger than breasts that you’d just be desperate to feel, were you to pass her in the street, especially in the flimsy shirt she’d had on today; they were tits you’d dream of sucking on and, if all your dreams could come true, getting your cock up and between.

So stunning was her chest that it took more than a few moments to actually look up into her face and eyes.

The face was pretty. It would be unfair to describe it as plain, but there wasn’t any feature about it that particularly grabbed your attention; although in other circumstances – those when her tits and pussy weren’t out there for the world to see – you’d have described her eyes as both kind and caring, looks which sat in direct contrast to the current, frankly filthy way, she was leaned back against a tree: fucking herself with what appeared to be a large glass bottle.

I actually did a double-take when I finally saw that her hands were busy between her legs. One roughly rubbing her clit, which was large, visible, and at its fullest state of arousal, while her left hand was fucking her pussy with a bottle – possibly a wine bottle – with the neck buried deep in her pussy…

No, that was wrong; the situation, with six men wanking around her, and the way she was fucking herself, the ground soaked around her, from where she’d clearly cum again, and again – this woman was fucking her cunt.

That’s what I’d walked into; a sexy middle-aged housewife – with the ring on the finger of the hand driving the bottle to prove it – fucking her cunt, while a group of men stood, watched, and jacked off to her.

When I describe this day and try to explain what a great pair of tits this dirty slut had, I’ll start by explaining how I initially missed the wine bottle halfway up her cunt, because that’s not something you’d believe you could miss.

A man to my left grunted, bringing my attention back to the now, and I turned involuntarily, just in time to watch him cum. This was nothing like watching porn, which was the only other place I’d seen men ejaculate.

This guy was fat, bald, fifty if he was a day, with a small cock that only spilled cum on the floor in front of him, while he moaned in a low pleading voice, his eyes transfixed by the bottle.

The woman whimpered herself, and my eyes snapped back to her pussy, in time to watch her furiously rub her clit off, and then squirt around the bottle as she thrust and held it deep within her.

The smell of sex, which surely must have been in the air the whole time, was now absolutely evident and the source obvious.

I’d been with women who got very wet, but this slut of a housewife was on a whole other level. If you’d have asked me ninety seconds ago, I’d have sworn that a woman couldn’t really cum like that.

“Are you ready?” asked the man to my right, who’d been so brazen as to turn at my approach while continuing to wank himself off.

“Give it to me, baby,” the woman said, turning the groups' attention away from the man who’d just ejaculated – now instantly forgotten – and to the man who wanted to know if she was ready; ready for what? – what else.

This guy had no shame, surely it couldn’t be his first time doing something like this, and he stepped forward up to the woman.

I felt a flush of excitement; is she going to actually suck his cock? The flush of blood washed right over my body, and I felt the blood charge along my cock; lengthening it and firming the shaft up slightly towards the beginning of a full erection.

While I wasn’t sure I actually wanted to watch a dirty housewife suck another stranger off, my dick had decided that the possibility was an absolute turn-on.

The woman made no move to lean forward, nor did the man close the distance further. Whether the rule was explicit or unspoken, it was clear there was one, and she wouldn’t be sucking his cock, or touching it at all, given that her hands had resumed their dual actions of thrusting and rubbing her cunt.

Standing close to her face, the guy just wanked his cock furiously– his hand of a total blur, as if this was the first time he’d ever masturbated.

Unlike the first guy to cum, he offered no warning and didn’t moan; when he was ready, he just sprayed cum all over her face. His cock was very long but also very, very thin, as though a normal cock had been stretched out like a length of hosepipe, and that was exactly how he came: like a fucking hose.

He sprayed cum in the woman’s mouth, which she’d open expecting the same; cum went on her lips, her cheeks, against the lope of her ear, on the fringe of her loose medium length dark bob…

I was someone ejaculated an unusual amount - more voluminous than this guy with the long cock, but never with so much force. There really wasn’t any need for him to have stepped closer; he could even have taken a couple of steps back and still hit her.

It was about the degradation though, that’s why he’d stepped forward, so he could cum as hard as possible into this dirty housewife’s face.

What amazed me was how much it turned her on. As she swallowed what cum had indiscriminately made its way in her mouth, I heard the wetness of an orgasm around the bottle. My eyes stayed focus on her face and neck, though, watching to see and make sure she was going to be a bad girl and swallow the load.

As her neck tensed and then relaxed, I knew she’d taken it, which was enough to melt my brain, and I pulled my own cock out and started to wank it to hardness. Ever since the first girl to swallow my cum, I’d be obsessed with the look on her face as she did it.

Even that first time had been enough fluid to choke the girl – although we were both young and inexperienced – but over the years, I’d come to produce more and more, to the point where I’d fill a woman’s mouth if she even gave me half a chance.

This whole experience was surreal, but what happened next notched it up to another level, as the woman opened her mouth to us – to me – and showed how bad she was, before closing again, only to then spit on the guys softening dick.

The whole situation was so sordid, half a dozen men standing around wanking… But that wasn’t right, was it? While I’d been sitting reading with my back to the tree, I’d registered movement coming to and from here: just how many men had been out here?

Fuck – I could feel myself getting harder.

A woman is covered in cum, fucking herself with a wine bottle, for a group of strange men in the middle of the most famous park in Ireland. She looks like the dirtiest slut imaginable, and it’s a look that suits her, right down to the filthy smile that she has on after spitting on that guy's long cock.

If I’d been asked, could this get any dirtier, I’d have said: how? – and then the guy with the long dick started to piss on her.

I hesitated, even stopped wanking, but I was the only man who did. I was late to this party, and the soaking the ground had taken now made more sense. At least one other guy had pissed on her, and she hadn’t moved from that spot.

I’d never done anything like watersports, but I was too hard to stop wanking, or even form an actual opinion, and just watched, as the guy with the long cock washed off the mess he’d made and then deliberately aimed at her chest, to cause a little stream to form between her tits, running down her belly, to be caught by the bunched skirt.

My eyes went back to her pussy, drawn as though magnetised to the sight and sound of the woman fucking herself hard, already covered in cum and piss.

Again my eyes became transfixed by the thickness of the bottle penetrating her over and over again. It was the first time in my life that I’d actually wanted to try this brand of wine and the best example of product placement ever.

My cock was now obviously hard although still not noticeable in a crowd, because that crowd still included five other men masturbating while a woman fucked herself.

“Oh fuucccckkk,” announced a third guy cumming. I didn’t turn to look, and he didn’t have the confidence to step forward, but the sounds were unmistakable.

The woman grunted too, but my eyes never left her pussy, as she pushed nearer the full length of the bottle in and squirted hard and wet around it again.

If I was thinking rationally, I’d describe it as the single sexist thing I’ve seen in my life; and I wanted to try that bottle of wine now more than ever. Not the brand, the bottle; I wanted to suck on it, and now.

Another man spoke up, but in a foreign accent, which sounded so alien that it was enough to draw my attention to his face, where he stood to the left of me, and then down to his cock as it ejaculated. He hadn’t stepped forward either to cum on the woman, despite the fact that it was blatantly obvious that it was exactly what she wanted.

Perhaps it was an element of self-consciousness because he had a very small dick – not even big enough to wrap his hand around – and when he came in was like a dribble.

The woman made no judgement, though, and her frantic moan of, “Oh, baby; oh, baby; oh, baby,” at the sight of the guy's cum, was surely her orgasming again, although without the explosive force of the squirt we’d just seen.

My eyes again went to her pussy and caught the glint of her wedding ring. Shock fuelled my reaction, and my eyes flickered to her face, only to be caught in her regard; clearly, she’d been staring at me as she’d finished her most recent orgasm.

Now I felt the weight of her regard on me, which caused my cock to strain hard.

As our eyes locked, she spoke to me directly, “Don’t be shy, baby, pull on that big cock.”

Clearly, I’d not gone as unseen as I believed... but our eye contact was broken by one of the other guys in the circle, a bloke of about nineteen, who almost coughed, “Shit, dude.”

That one comment attracted the rest of the group’s attention to my cock as I wanked on it, while the woman's eyes widened almost imperceptibly. Perhaps the true judge of her reaction was that she stopped fucking herself for a second.

My cock was a little longer than average, and a little more ticker still, but it was the head that caused her pause.

It was so overly large that circumcision wasn’t a choice, and had caused more than one woman to comment that it was like a lollipop, and as it was a comment that was usually followed by the girl pretending to suck it like one, the comparison was never a cause for complaint.

Another man moaned, thankfully distracting the group from cock and hand as I jacked it. This guy was so loud, he attracted the groups' full attention, and we all turned to watch him cum, although when my attention switched back to the woman, her eyes had already reaffixed themselves to my cockhead.

Ridiculously, given the circumstances, I felt slightly self-conscious by the attention. My dick wasn’t nearly as long as the guy who hosed her, and I’d glanced a thicker, albeit shorter, cock hanging off another man.

She sensed it, maybe saw the hesitation in the movement of my hand, and spoke, “I’m just thinking that would hurt on the way in.”

I answered without thinking, “Only up your arse,” which brought sniggered laughter from the whole group, including the girl who also gave me that filthy smile. I was being literal though, I mean, the woman was masturbating – and hard – with a fucking wine bottle…

That look though, the filthy smile, which I knew was her way of communicating that under different circumstances, she’d love it up the arse, brought me right to the edge, and I swelled to my fullest size; her eyes following the journey, and widening as my freakish head got a little thicker still.

It was time to cum, but this was so different from my previous experience, which now seemed entirely vanilla. “Is it okay if I cum?” I asked.

I not sure why, maybe the shyness in my voice, but she coughed out, “FUCK,” and every man there’s eyes travelled to the bottle, as she came hard and wet around it, trusting it deeper than any cock could reach.

I looked to her face again and her pretty eyes, which hadn’t moved from the hard wanking I was giving my cock, “Cum for me, baby,” she managed to breathe heavily.

The invitation was obvious, but I had to ask, “In your mouth?”

She didn’t speak again, simply licked her lips and opened her mouth. I couldn’t hold back, and while I hadn’t the confidence of the guy with the hose – who had completely degraded her – I did find the courage to step forward, nearer even than the hose guy, to put the head as close as possible to the woman lips, which she opened wider still to accommodate my girth.

There was no holding back now, and I came. Not crazy hard, but constant; a thick spurt, and another… with each slow, deliberate motion of my hand, another spurt of cum filled her mouth.  

I heard her choke a little and forced myself to hold back, allowing her lips to close, brushing the very tip of cock lightly as they did, to swallow fast and then reopen. It only took an instant, which was all I could hold back anyway, and then I filled her mouth a second time, to the point of overflowing a little, before taking a step back to signal I was done.

She locked eyes with me and then swallowed her second mouthful of my cum, before licking her lips clean of the overflow.

It was both the dirtiest and sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. And it was clear she’d be distracted too because her hands had stopped moving.

The bottle restarted first, then fingers on her clit, as she worked herself up into a faster and faster rhythm.

She glanced from my face to my cock, which was still long but was both soft and hard at the same time. She voiced what I knew, “You need to piss?”

I did; it was why I’d come into the deeper woods. I was too stunned from my orgasm to speak, though, and simply nodded in answer.

“Piss on me,” she nearly pleaded as she increased the intensity of her masturbation.

Really I was stunned and didn’t know what to do, but I stepped forward and started to bring my semi-hard cock to her lips. She shook her, panting a little harder, “No, stand back a little; let everyone watch, and piss on my tits.”

It couldn’t have been stated any plainer; I stood back a little, felt the guys reposition themselves for better views, and then start pissing on her big gorgeous tits in a hard continuous stream.

The woman went into a frenzy, squeezed her eyes tight shut, and started fucking herself relentlessly with both hands on the wine bottle, thrusting it in hard, fast, and with a grinding twist that was stimulating her in some unseen way.

It was too much for one guy, who darted forward and came on her face, seeming to aim quite deliberately for her closed eyes.

The woman never broke stride with her motion and remained absolutely silent, beyond the sound of her cunt taking the wine bottle over and over again.

To my shame, I soaked her. I just keep pissing on the top of her chest – as the hose guy had done – creating a river through her cleavage that soaked into her bunched skirt and leaked down to cover her pussy lips, where the piss caught in her light pubic hair, which id missed entirely to this point.

It struck me that the wedding ring meant that she’d have to explain the way she looked to at least one person - I just had no fucking clue how – and made a point of pissing directly onto her skirt: she was all about degradation.

It felt like a long time, but I finished and forced my cock back in my pants, stepping back to see that the men in the circle had changed, with more joining and some of the faces – cocks – I’d seen before my turn now gone.

Knowing when to leave was clearly part of this, so I took a final look at her - soaked, likely sore, and with a belly full of cum - and turned to make my exit.

“I come here every weekend at this time,” she called out to my back, “to walk my dog.”

As I walked away, I heard her start to fuck herself again and realised there was absolutely no sign of a dog anywhere…

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