Her Ass Really Is ‘Exit Only’

The Midwest Gangbang

It wasn’t your average housewife. Oh no, this was Midwestern MILF heaven, a 40-something cougar with curves that would make Kim Kardashian green with envy. Her name was Glenda, but the guys around town knew her as…well, let’s just say the name was hard to pronounce when you had your face buried in her ass. And yes, you read that right – Glenda loved a good anal session. “My ass really is exit only,” she’d say with a wink, running a hand over her ample booty.

Glenda was married, but her husband was away on business more often than not. Which was fine by her – it gave her plenty of time to engage in her favorite hobby: getting gangbanged by the hometown boys. And tonight was shaping up to be a real doozy.

The weekend had arrived, and with it, a particularly balmy summer evening. Glenda opened the front door, only to find six of her frequent flyers gathered on the porch, looking more eager than a pack of hungry puppies. “Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite band of merry men,” she purred, pushing her ample cleavage together with her forearms. “Ready to rock?”

The guys barely had time to acknowledge her quip before Glenda ushered them inside, eager to get this party started. “Strip!” she commanded, sauntering over to the living room sofa. She plopped down onto the plush cushions, perilously close to spilling out of her low-cut blouse and daisy dukes.

Within seconds, the men had discarded their clothes, cocks springing free and already at full mast. Glenda licked her lips, eyeing the buffet of man meat before her. “Who’s first?” she asked, already reaching for her glasses on the coffee table. Because if she was going to do this, she sure as hell wasn’t going to forget a single detail.

Glenda beckoned the first stud over with a crook of her manicured finger. He was young, just barely in his 20s – not that it mattered. Every inch of him was firm and toned, an Adonis in the flesh. Glenda wasted no time, dropping to her knees before him and taking his length into her mouth. She worked him with expert precision, hollowing her cheeks and bringing him to the brink of climax before releasing him with a loud pop.

It was the first of many cocks she would suck that night, each one a testament to her oral finesse. Back and forth she went, licking, sucking, stroking – but she saved the main event for last. You see, Glenda always made sure to end on a high note – and when it came to the perfect bang, nothing beat a good anal pounding.

Glenda got on her hands and knees, her stats-busting bum pointed directly at the final man in line. “Think you can handle me, stud?” she purred over her shoulder, pushing her hips back suggestively.

He didn’t hesitate, taking her invitation and positioning himself behind her. Glenda braced herself, feeling the head of his cock prodding at her tightest hole. And then, with a smooth thrust of his hips, he buried himself to the hilt inside her.

Glenda moaned, low and long, as he began to move. Faster and harder he worked her, each powerful stroke driving the breath from her lungs. Her ample bosom bounced and jiggled with the force of his thrusts, and she could feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge.

The men around her were all counted for now, offering encouragement and motivation where needed. “C’mon Glenda, give us a good show!” one cried from the side. Another, reaching down to take himself in hand, begged, “Let me see you come, you big-titted bitch!”

Glenda wanted to obey, wanted to give them all exactly what they craved. She focused inward, pushing herself past the point of no return and into the sweet, shuddering bliss of orgasm. Her pussy clenched and rippled as she came, her whole body quaking with the force of it.

The men seized their chance, jostling for position to paint her curvy body with their own release. Glenda stayed perfectly still, accepting each hot spurt of semen over her skin and reveling in the sheer debauchery of it all.

By the time the last drop had been spilled, Glenda looked like a work of modern art – a Jackson Pollock piece, splattered and streaked with the essence of her lovers. She stood up on shaky legs, a grin stretching from ear to ear as she basked in the afterglow.

Her husband wouldn’t be home for another week, but Glenda barely had time to think about that. She had a gangbang to recover from, and maybe, just maybe, enough energy left over to start planning the next one. After all, what else were summer evenings made for?