America Part XI: Unity (Season Finale)

Amy stumbled. She reached out, but her fiancé was a few feet ahead, none the wiser. She stabilized herself. She looked down at her feet, both sitting firmly in their high-heels. Below them, the ground stood, rocky, nearly purple in the growing evening.

“I can’t believe the bus broke down,” her fiancé said in mandarin.

I can believe it, Amy thought, staring at the back of his head. Her ankles were sore, pampered by flat city pavement, unused to the uneven grounds of the countryside, though she knew through state propaganda that this is where the heart of the Chinese nation beat the loudest.

He stopped and turned around as if he could hear her thoughts. As he did though, her body came back into his sight, standing there, tensed from uneven landscape below her, her giant breasts swelling and lopsided from her lean. Her right ass-cheek, even from the front, bulging from the tension in her stabilizing thigh. He almost shook his head visibly, not believing, even after all this time, that she was about to be his.

“People live here?” she said, puncturing his thought.

“Yeah,” he said, staring at her bemused face. “People live everywhere.”

She blushed, even through her indignance and frustration, feeling dumb. “Are they good people?” she asked, meaning his relatives.

He didn’t answer. He only turned around. They kept moving.

As they went through a path, thick with foliage and rising on an incline, farmers from the nearby cliffside watched, feverish at Amy’s body, which gesticulated and tensed like a dream through a screen of green leaves. They watched with hungry eyes, desperate eyes, but also eyes sick with a longing, one they would have been happy to do without. After the man and his exotic wife disappeared, they turned back to their small and fragile homes, where their plain and decrepit wives sat on rotting floorboards, not even asking, not caring, what they had been staring so intently at as it passed by.

The path was overgrown, and the man who would one day be John’s father couldn’t even look at her as he moved off to its side, getting Amy to follow him, stepping from rock to rock, hoping she’d act on his example.

She stood there incredulous for a second, her suitcase heavy in her hand. She then followed. It was on the second rock that she lost her footing and, with a sudden gasp, slipped, falling to the wet dirt ass-first, landing with a broad and wet smack.

He turned to see her there, sitting in the mud, looking up at him as if she had been betrayed.

He moved to her, grabbing her hand. Her fingers were slow to wrap around his. He pulled her up. She stood there, looking down at herself, nearly slipping again from her rock. They both looked down at the surface area of her ass, which was coated now with a big, wet, black spot from her one massive cheek to the other, nearly accentuating its size and shape contrary to the red of the rest of her outfit.

She bit her tongue, trying to wipe it off with the sweater he handed her before she realized it was fruitless. The mark was there to stay, at least until they got to her fiance’s uncle’s house. “I’ll just shower when we get there,” she said.

He didn’t respond, only thinking about that browned-ass as he walked, its each gyrating cheeks, unignorable now. The dread built with every step.

The old man heard the knock at the front door from where he was in the back, and he quickly put down the milk crate. He dusted his hands on his apron and moved in through the back. There was another knock before he could get to the living room.

Standing there, behind the screen mesh of the doorway, stood his nephew, rigid and awkward as always. Behind him, a new body stood though, one obscured. He smiled to his nephew, approaching the door, excited for what stood behind him. “Come in, come in,” he said. “It’s been so long. You’re a man, now.”

John’s dad opened the door, stepping in. As he did, the path behind him was cleared, and his uncle almost stopped dead.

Amy stood there, her suitcase at her knees, its handle held by both hands. She bowed.

He bowed, barely, to her. He stared at her for one awkward and long moment. Then a grin formed. He looked to his nephew. “Is she lost?” he asked. Then he broke out into a broad smile. “Because I know there’s no way she’s with you.” 

Amy and John’s dad looked to each other in shock for a moment. Laughter followed, but they couldn’t laugh as hard he could. Nor for as long.

“When are they coming then?”

“Before nightfall,” his uncle said, rubbing the kitchen counter with a rag. He spoke with that old mountain dialect.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen them all.”

“They’ll be happy to see you. They always ask about you?”

“Really?” John’s dad asked. He sat there at the kitchen table.

“Really,” his uncle said and nodded.

John’s dad sat there for a moment, feeling the lines in the table with his fingers. “What do they ask?”

His uncle looked down at the counter. He heard Amy in the washroom, his very own wash fabrics being rubbed against her presumably nude body. He imagined her dress, beautiful, red, and vibrant, resting on the chair in the corner, sans her body, which was being washed in the tub nearby in lukewarm water. The mud-drenched seat of it marking the place where that giant ass filled just moments earlier. “Oh,” he said. “They just want to know if you’re happy.”

John’s dad was taken aback even further. “Oh,” he said. “I can’t wait to let them know just how happy I am.”

His uncle heard the very rag he washed his own genitals with being pulled, scrubbing, over that nude voluptuousness just beyond that wooden door. “Something tells me they’ll already know.”

John’s dad sat there for a moment longer before looking at the bathroom door, then back at his watch. He felt a tinge of annoyance at how long she had been in there for. It was exactly like her, even with these meager amenities, which he knew she was silently appalled by, she still had to act this way. He looked to his uncle, playing it off. “Women…” he said. “You have another bathroom I can use?”

“Depending on what you’re doing, you can just go outside.”

John’s dad smiled and shrugged. “When nature calls.” He got up and headed to the door.

His uncle watched him through the reflection on his drying silverware. When the screen door fell shut against the setting sun and golden hour leaves, he reached into the drawer below him for his hand mirror. He moved toward the bathroom door silently, taking a look back at the screen door. It stood empty but for a distant setting sun over the hills.

He looked back to the bathroom door, looking down at the gap beneath it. He heard a large, soft, wet body stepping out of the tub within.

He slowly took the mirror, sliding it just a bare fraction of an inch above the floor, seeing the underside of the door as it neared. Then he pushed further, further, until the roof of the bathroom, cracked and marked with age, appeared within his little mirror frame. His veins felt electric, his mind almost about to swoon.

He tipped the mirror forward.

A volume of flesh, pale and perfect, appeared within it. A line ran through its two giant masses, which jiggled as her other foot met the floor. He watched the ass, big and naked and wet, as it went. He tilted his mirror up further until it caught her standing before her reflection. Her tits appeared within it, big and voluptuous, almost inhuman in their size. He couldn’t believe tits could be so big, and even if they could, he couldn’t believe they could have that size while also being so perfectly shaped. Amy stood there, no different than his sister-in-laws and other family he had seen standing in the same space, being spied upon without recourse by his good planning and ingenuity. But she was a cut above all the rest, almost unbelievably so, and he felt not only that his eyes were blessed to see her as he shouldn’t have been able to, but that that his very bathroom, and two mirrors which reflected her, were blessed to contain a form whose beauty was usually reserved for the city alone.

He saw the ambivalent look in her face as she stood there, and before he could muse on it further, he heard steps along his porch. He pulled the mirror back, her face and tits disappeared, getting one last hardy look at her ass, before the mirror was plucked back out. He moved to the kitchen, hearing the screen door open and shut behind him. “Ah, that hit the spot,” his nephew said. He put the mirror back into the drawer suddenly. It certainly did, he thought. His mind was filled with the fever of what he had just seen. As his nephew came to the table, sitting back down, openly musing about what was taking Amy so long, his uncle looked atop the cupboard. A bottle of rice wine sat there, only half consumed, and he knew more were coming, along with all other types of liquor. One for each set of hardworking male hands.

The bathroom door opened.

“Go on ahead. They’re just up the path,” uncle said as he shut his gate. He looked down at it, pretending to have trouble, until he could sense his nephew and Amy turn and begin moving. He then looked up, getting an even better look at the woman’s backside, now clothed, big and quaking as it went over the rough ground.

Next to it floated the bottle of rice wine he had asked his nephew to carry for him. He shut the gate and followed along, looking at the bottle greedily, before looking at Amy’s ass. He looked at the bottle again, then, again, at Amy’s ass.

She would only be here for one night, and the weight of that tolled heavy on him. His consolation was that he knew when everyone else saw her, it would weigh on them with equal weight, perhaps more as they were all younger than he, and much more virile and impatient.

The ass moved, and he knew that its very nature, if anything else could be, would be its very own undoing.

The eyes of all the family lit up as they saw her approaching. They stood in front of John’s dad’s cousin’s house, it being just large enough for a get-together, and they all loomed there, from on the porch or in front of it, staring at the female figure which emerged from out the woods, dreamlike and unreal.

John’s dad was greeted more enthusiastically than he ever would have been otherwise. And even the subtle comments about money or favors, which usually would have been par for the course with a relative from the city, were kept at a minimum now.

“And who’s this,” his most outgoing cousin asked, smiling with two teeth missing. “You bringing your lawyer here? For what?”

They all laughed.

Amy stood there awkwardly, holding her arm at its elbow. Uncle stood behind, watching the tension in her ass at being subjected to the barrage of unkempt male faces, some looking so much like her fiancé while looking so unlike him in every way, country living having marred their faces with a life of effort.

Each of them bowed to her, except the most boisterous cousin, who quickly closed the gap for a hug. He held that hug for way too long, even after it took a long moment for Amy’s arms to lift themselves from her sides to hug back, but when he was finished, more hugs came.

Uncle smiled to himself, feeling foolish for doubting. He knew now, as he always should have, that his family, being like him, would never let this night go by. John’s dad held the rice wine bottle nearby. And his uncle knew there was plenty more where that came from waiting inside.

He looked down at Amy’s ass, which tensed with each prolonged hug.

He knew the spirit of the mountain would be kind tonight. It had been kind enough by bringing her up here. It was benevolent enough to not let it stop there.

Uncle followed her ass on the way into the home, then, once everyone was inside with it, he turned and shut the door.

The stool that Amy sat upon strained with the weight of her heavy ass.

When they heard a creak from its tired wood, all the men except John’s father gave a knowing smirk to at least one other. The same wonderful awkwardness while nervous, which was one of the things (one of many) which attracted John’s father to her so thoroughly, also worked now to further entice the men, who, in all honesty, didn’t even need any further enticement. This was only an added spice to the upcoming ‘meal.’

Her folded arms on the table put pressure through her form, causing her tits to appear bigger than usual. Uncle stood in the corner of the room, staring at her, trying to imagine the nude woman beneath all these fancy clothes, trying to place the previous image of her, exposed and defenseless, to the image of her, clothed and closed-off, he saw now.

The boisterous one shuffled the cards on the table. Another stood above it, laying down cups. “Just a fun little game,” the shuffler said. “Don’t feel nervous if you lose.” He looked up and into Amy’s eyes. “There always needs to be a loser to every game. It’s the most important part, and we’ll thank you kindly for it.” He winked at her.

Amy tried to shift subtly in her seat, but the sound which came from it, loud and strained, gave visible mirth to every face there except for John’s dad and her own. In the case of John’s dad, he heard nothing, already used to the sounds her giant ass made against the furniture and floor and when she was sitting in the tub for a bath.

The boisterous one began dealing out the cards. As he did, he laid down some rules, then said: “Because women have the advantage, they have to drink first.” They all stared at Amy’s cup as the milk-white wine was poured within, their shadows almost looming over it as one.

Amy stared down at the milky liquid as it rose in her cup.

John’s dad looked at her with a slight and embarrassed smile. Then he nodded to it. She looked back at the cup, picked it up, and tipped it to her mouth. She laid it back down with a klop.

“Second rule,” the cousin continued, as a cup was newly poured for her. “If you’re fated to be wedded in the near future, you again have to drink.”

One of the men lifted his cup to his mouth. Amy looked at him, then at her fiancé. He already had his cup in his fingers, waiting for it to be filled. It was, but almost as if it were an oversight. They then both looked at each other, smiling, tipping the cup to their lips as one.

Uncle smiled in the corner, loving the city stupidity which clung to his nephew as if he had been born there. His bride-to-be must have infected him with it. This would be so much easier than he thought.

He looked down at Amy’s ass. He saw it as if it were wet and nude, and smiled, knowing that it would be wet and nude soon. All of her would. And they’d all be the same.

The cousin drew a card. “Ah,” he said.

“What?” asked John’s dad.

“This one’s for the men. The one with the most beautiful wife has to drink. I guess we can extend this to wives-to-be. It’s the modern era, after all.” He looked up and around the room innocently. “So who is this for.” His face was completely blank, impressively so. “Should we put it to a vote?”

Many bottles set empty on the ground, overcast by busy shadows, ringing with busy screams and laughing. The stomachs in the room, paradoxically, sat full. All of them, by the nature of the environment, by the nature of the lifestyle and the vices that lifestyle gave, sat with iron lining, absorbing the liquid piecemeal, buzzing the faces with a warm red hue. Two of the stomachs though, made soft with city living and discretion, became one with the liquor they carried. The faces of those two, just as red, looked haggard and half-awake.

The cousin drew another card sloppily, slapping it to the table. “Oh, the one across from me…” he looked up and pointed, his finger swaying in the air. “All three of you, I guess. The one in front of me has to drink.”

Amy looked back at him. She leaned forward, almost as if she would never push back up, and then she did, tilting the cup back and drinking. John’s dad watched, feeling uneasy but in no state to understand why. Another card was pulled. “Oh, the one next to her- I mean… to the last drinker… has to drink.”

John’s dad did as he was told without even asking if it should be him or his cousin sitting on her other side.

Another card was pulled. The cousin looked down at it, his creativity slowing down, struggling to come up with another strange and self-serving rule. Uncle stood up though instead. “Oh, this one. This one. Anyone who bathed in the last three hours has to drink.”

Nobody drank except for Amy and John’s dad.

The cousin got out of the way, and the uncle came to his place, drawing another card. “Only those who come from far away have to drink.” John’s dad drank and then had to nudge Amy to remind her that she indeed did come from far away. The men in the room laughed when she realized. Then another card: “Anyone who fell down in the mud today has to drink.”

Amy blushed, wanting to not expose herself, but the look of her fiancé and his uncle made her fear even more that she’d be called out. Another of the men, just because he felt like it, took his own swig anyway.

Uncle drew another card. “Anyone who’s seen a woman nude today.”

Nobody else drank, not even John’s dad. His uncle lifted his cup to his lips, taking a full swig, emptying it, then refilling it with the bottle.

He pulled another. “Oh, this one’s her,” he said, not even explaining why.

Amy sighed and took another drink, almost on the border of panic that she was taking in so much.

Another. “The two most attractive players have to drink.”

They all took a vote. Everyone voted for Amy, including John’s dad, who Amy voted for in turn.

They both took a swig.

Another: “Last ones to drink have to drink again.”

There was laughter in the room.

They both drank.

He pulled another, a smile in the corner of his mouth as he did it, snake-like and slow. “Ah,” he said. “Those who’ve seen the most attractive player naked, take a drink.”

John’s dad drank, as did his uncle. The men laughed, and he held a grin at the edge of his mouth. Neither Amy nor John’s dad noticed, the world blurring around them, the grinning faces on their every side melting into the walls.

“Everyone who’s going to see her naked,” he said, not even drawing another card.

They all drank. John’s dad didn’t, not even hearing a word, falling to sleep on his arm.

“Everyone who’s going to use her big city ass.”

They all drank.

Amy leaned there, sitting unsteadily in their shadows. Her stool seat creaked beneath her.

They all looked to each other, in silent agreement that the moment had come.

The confident cousin leaned over her, grabbing the edges of her dress, and pulling it up until her ass, nice and big, was exposed, covered only by a designer thong. It fell back onto her stool with a satisfying smack and jiggle.

Everybody stared at it, leaning if they had to, except for uncle, who simply sat there, taking in another drink. “Well…” he said. “Who will do the honors?”

A big hand, greedy and brave, came smacking against Amy’s right cheek. She tried to look back at the source of the strange sensation, and the culprit, the gregarious cousin, pushed against her back with his open palm, fingers outspread, pushing her until her chest met the table. Her breasts expanded horizontally across its surface, meeting the underside of her chin.

The cousin grabbed and smacked her ass, nice and hardily, then he gripped it, feeling the flesh spill through his fingers. “What was he thinking,” he mused out loud, looking to his cousin. “Bringing such a luscious lamb to a pack of wolves?”

“Showing off…” uncle said, then he took another drink. “He knows no women out here look like this.”

The cousin pulled aside her g-sting and spread her butt-cheeks apart, getting a good look at the butthole hidden deep within. “Speaking of showing off…” he said, pulling the g-string out between her cheeks with his hooked index finger. “The city pollutes these girls. Who wears something like this? What kind of man would allow…”

“It just means she deserves the works,” another said. “Be happy. It’s rare they ever get what they deserve.”

The cousin let go of the g-string, it snapped back and disappeared between her ass cheeks.

The uncle finished his drink and got up. He wiped his mouth, then grabbed what was left of her dress, pulling it over her arms. The cousin looked up at her smooth back, its purity only broken by that red bra strap. They seemed to move as one. As another cousin neared, reaching for his strap with both hands, he reached from the waist of her underwear. All in one fell swoop, Amy was deprived of each. She lay there, nude and compromised. The men stood above her, hungry as mountain jackals, some smiling with missing teeth, their noses filling with her perfume and as vividly as their eyes filled with her body. Their ears, with a hunger all their own, filled with her slight breathing.

The uncle stuck out his hand, letting it fall against her ass, gripping her cheek. “Look how white and smooth her skin is. We’ll never get one like this ever again,” he said. “Let’s make the most of it then.”

John’s dad sat sleeping in the corner, his peaceful sleeping eyes covered over with strange and frantic shadows.

Between Amy’s big ass-cheeks, a penis, long and hard, sat engulfed, its tip, up-pointing, hovered over the place where her ass crack ended. Its balls sat at the gate where her thighs became her ass. “Hot dog,” the brave cousin said in English, smiling down with two missing teeth, his cock being swallowed by the near-limitless flesh of Amy’s giant ass.

Uncle looked down at where his cock and balls used to be, now devoured whole by Amy’s fresh twenty-something face. “Hot dogs usually go in the mouth,” he replied.

Beneath Amy, ball’s deep inside her, another cousin lay on the table, her giant breasts falling to his face like an automatic heaven. The every jostling against it, whether from his thrusts, the thrusts of the other cousin, or the thrusts of uncle, caused those breasts to sway and rub against his face, their nipples tickling his cheek or eye. “What are they feeding girls in the city?” he asked.

“Must be the same thing they feed Americans,” one of the men said. “Look at those tits.” He stood aside, cradling his cock in her empty pair of panties, the straps around his fingers. His cock sat there, in the bed of her panty crotch like it were a hammock. He looked up at the sight, waiting for his turn. The other cousin took his cock out from between her cheeks, only to push it, more pointedly, toward her asshole. Feeling it around his cock-head, he shut his eyes and pushed within.

Amy was stuffed solid, being pounded. The men traded positions, various cocks thrust through her, various hands, as if she were being groped by an octopus, ran over her body, feeling its every curve, savoring it with eyes shut or open, locking it into memory, her sight, sound, taste, smell, and touch, the nature of it being more rare in these parts than gold. Only through the American magazines smuggled up here did any of them even know that women like this could exist.

The shadow of her giant titties, shaking as one, shook over the face of her soon-to-be husband. Uncle’s mouth fell to her breast, sucking her nipple. Two cocks ran against the sides of her face, their tips poking through her black hair, testicles running against her chin. At one point, her face was pressed against the dusty floor by the bare foot of the gregarious one. He looked down at her, her face shaking from the thrusting she was taking into her giant ass.

He stared down into that beauty, laying there, as if it belonged there, on his floor. Something tugged at him, at the deepest part of his gut, and before he could feel the full effect of it, he shook it loose with a convenient thought.

He looked over to his cousin, drunk and unawares just feet away from his future wife. The shadow of Amy, the full length of her body with her big ass up in the air being pounded from behind by another shadow, was cast over the poor guy’s peaceful sleeping expression.

“This is what you get when you try to turn a city slut into your housewife, cousin. Out here, our women may be as pretty as dogs, but they’re as loyal as dogs too.”

Uncle walked up, his cock hard and throbbing. “You know,” he said. “When the Japanese occupied us, there was a little thing they liked to do. Did it around here actually. I heard it as a child.” He stared down at Amy. Everyone, including the cousin who stepped on her face, and the other which pounded her from behind, looked to uncle, fascinated, eager for him to continue. Not a sound could be heard except her soft, drunk breathing, and the sound of that pelvis slapping against the giant canvas of her ass. “They used to take Chinese girls, the japs did, young and pretty, and they used to all stand around her. Fucking her, or watching their comrades fucking her. Then…” He was silent for a moment. “Then they would all empty big loads, probably weeks worth being saved up, all over the faces and bodies of those poor girls.” He took a deep breath. “It used to fill me with deep rage just thinking about it. But now…” he looked down into Amy’s face. “Now I know what it’s like to be filled with such toil and repetition… and to have… below your very boot, someone, something beautiful, to take it out on.”

The gregarious cousin just stared at uncle, his foot still on Amy’s face. The one pounding her slowed down his thrusts, until finally stopping.

Amy was thrust against the wall, just next to her fiancé. The harsh yellow light from the hanging bulb peeked down at her in glimpses through the crowd of bodies. Cocks, big and proud and aggressive, neared and loomed over her face, just as their shadows neared and loomed over the face of John’s dad.

The first testicle sack to empty did so over Amy’s face, coating it, nice and thick and warm. That dripped, like ooze, down her features. More cum came, landing in her hair, on her nose, on her bottom lip, all of it dressing her up nice.

The last of all was uncle. He felt his essence being pulled from within his testicles, that sucking vacuum which correlated with such intense and momentary bliss, and he watched the fruit of that seed gush from the tip of his penis, landing on the beautiful city girl’s face. She kneeled there, gooey and strange, her finely-manicured beauty somehow surviving and showing through her raggedness.

They looked down at her as she stared into dead space. The only sound besides the dripping cum which fell to the floor was the hiss of the lantern on the table behind them. Then they heard the cock crow.

John’s father lay there alone in the small home. Just outside, by the cool water of the river, the men stood, half- or fully-naked, while Amy kneeled on the rock. Her face was plunged within the fresh water, which broke up and carried off the evidence of the night’s happening. Her tits spilled into the water with her and were tugged in its dragging direction, floating there, islands unto themselves. They pulled her face back up into the world of oxygen and she sucked some back.

She looked more beautiful now than ever, her face and tits wet and glimmering in the sun. But the men were tuckered out, the wine and the events of the night, finally paying a toll on them. All of them except uncle, who, staring at Amy’s wet and voluptuous body in the rising purple sunlight, couldn’t contain himself. He mounted her from behind. He felt that giant ass, its voluminous mass, resting in the cradle of his pelvis, his cock plunged within her, and he stared up at the orange and peeking sun. He thrusted, nice and hard with the sound of the river to accompany the sound of Amy’s pummelled ass. It was strange, he thought. He didn’t remember the last time he felt this young.

-------------------------------------------

John couldn’t remember the last time he felt this old. He stopped for breath as everyone he loved moved on ahead of him.

Amy was the first to stop, and John’s friends, who always had their eyes on her voluptuous body, looked back when she did. She was wearing a sports bra which kept her belly and cleavage bare, melting her into the universal mass of Instagram girls, or at least that’s how John saw it.

“You okay, sweetheart?” she asked in Mandarin.

“Yes,” John said, standing upright, playing coy. He walked briskly to them, his backpack heavy against his spine.

“Should we collect some branches and make a gurney?” Dylan asked with a grin.

Amy looked over.

“No, no,” Leo interrupted. “John’s fine.” He put his arm around John’s shoulder as he approached, but not before giving him a dirty look, warning him away from any sudden health crisis.

John took the hint and swallowed his discomfort.

Amy kept her eyes on him for a bit longer than the others.

“The site’s not that far ahead,” Liam said, having no real idea how far ahead it truly was.

“Yeah,” Tom said, playing along. “Then we can rest.” He turned, smiling back at John and Leo smugly.

Amy seemed pleased. She moved on ahead, an ignorant lamb amongst wolves. Her fat ass jiggled in her bright red leggings as she walked, their pattern made her ass look even bigger, which was quite the accomplishment, the pattern itself rolling inward and dipping at the space where her cheeks met. The boys all stared at it as she went. John stared at it with an extra layer though, loving the sight, but dreading the moment, and he knew it was coming, when she’d hand him her phone and get him to take pictures of her in those leggings. She wasn’t given them for free after all. And this dread only obscured an even further dread, one which John only half-entertained, like a dream.

Amy’s tits, which bounced together with each step, were part of the package deal, not just for photographing in general (they always were), but for the sponsor, who wanted their clothing advertised on her Instagram page, being stretched to their furthest strain by the buxom force of her big round ass, and her bouncy gigantic tits (they expressed as much with less explicit terminology). Amy’s body, the form she was born with, would be the fuel behind their company and their wear. When John thought of it, he felt the violation he knew his mom should have felt herself. But her ass bobbed with each step onward, happily, none-the-wiser, a toad in water, not feeling the temperature rising against its sensitive flesh.

Dylan excused himself. “Just going to drain the lizard,” he said, and both John and Leo looked at him, his hand against a tree, as they passed, seeing urine splash against it, shooting from his hard cock. Dylan looked up and over his shoulder as he pissed, his gaze locked on Amy’s tensing and untensing cheeks. It was a wonderful sight, but nowhere near as wonderful as it would have been to be there on the beach that day. He had seen those photos of her in her red one-piece bathing suit, he had seen those rock-hard college bodies hanging off her in those boisterous images, big hands around her shoulder, or, more impressively, big hands around her waist. He scrolled through those images over and over as he ley next to his passed-out mother, his pants down and his cock hard, groping her drunk tits with his other hand. He smiled then, not just at the sight of men getting so close to someone else’s mother for once, but also at imagining Leo’s frustration, his spiritual cuckening, an event that had never happened to him, being upstaged by others, but that, to Dylan’s estimation, was a long time coming.

“My ass they didn’t fuck her,” he said, rejecting John and Leo’s claim to himself. He looked to his mother’s sleeping face. “Right mom? They probably gave Ms. Li the works, didn’t they? All of them. All at once.” He squeezed Gianna’s tit hard, causing her to wince in her drunken sleep. “Giving it to her. Nice… and hard.”

Dylan now, in the present, pulled his hard cock into his pants after shaking it a bit (too many times) watching Amy’s pattern-printed ass go. It wasn’t until she disappeared over the hill that he did his belt and rushed to catch up.

Her body, big and jiggly and cumbersome, appeared again over the other side of the hill, along with the other boys, which always stayed rotating around her like moons. They especially took pleasure in her discomfort, which she tried to hide, but which was unignorable in her face, gait, and posture. Her tits could barely be contained in that tank top, which hugged them so tightly she looked like she’d bounce out of them at any moment. Her ass strained the fabric of her leggings, and the landscape itself didn’t help, forcing her to tense in ways which only did more damage.

The boys noticed her gait becoming stranger as she went, until Tom noticed that it couldn’t only be chalked up to the discomfort of her wardrobe any longer. “You doing alright there, Miss Li?”

She looked at him. “Uh,” she said, wanting to say something. She didn’t know how to say it in English without being vulgar. She stopped. Her gaze snapped to John. “Qù sāniào,” she said to John.

He blushed. “Just go,” he said.

She looked back at the other boys and only smiled coyly, then she headed out into the woods.

They all stood there, watching her thick and unruly body disappear, smothered within the treeline. Then they were silent. Dylan looked over at John. “Is she going to do what I think she’s going to do?”

John nodded.

Dylan looked to the others. “Then what are you waiting for?”

They all looked confused for a moment, but Leo and Tom quickly caught on. Liam only stared.

“Yeah,” Leo said. “Go. With your phone and catch her ass. If we all go, we’ll make too much noise.”

John felt his stomach drop.

“Yeah,” Tom said. “Go, quick. You’re going to beat yourself up later if you don’t get a shot of that thing.”

“Fuck it. I’ll just do it,” Dylan said.

“No,” Leo said. “John’s got it.”

John looked to them all, turned and saw the woods where she was, somewhere deep within.

Dylan was about to speak, maybe about to brush him aside to take the responsibility on his own back, when John took the first step. They all watched him go, disappearing into the same woods which held in them, snugly, such precious gold.

Amy could feel her new leggings strain against her thighs as she leaned down. Just when her ass, brushed by the outside air, was bent over so she could release, she heard a slight tearing sound from below herself. In panic, she shot back up. She bent over, looking down at the pants for any visible tears. Finding none, she breathed a sigh of relief, and a prayer in Chinese. These leggings just had to last long enough for her to get some photos out of them. She stood upright, then leaned down, grabbing the waist of those leggings and pulling her naked thighs and calves out of them. She did the same with the underwear, scared she’d get them wet. She tossed them to the side. She stood there now, completely nude, her giant Chinese ass out for the squirrels and mice and the fresh midday American air.

As she leaned down, another woodland creature, this one with clothes and a personal name, lurked from beyond a log. He gazed with big wide eyes, and one emotionless black eye.

John practically salivated looking into his screen, seeing his mom’s big, white, bent-over ass, the long line of her black butt-crack between those pale globes, and her elbows on her naked knees, her gaze aimed off into the distance. He caught all of her, her ass with the side profile of her face. She urinated there, as naturally as any animal. Her hefty stream of piss cut into the dirt below, splashing wet dirt up like soft and minuscule shrapnel into onto the cheeks of her ass.

She kneeled there, staring off, assuming perfect privacy, feeling at peace. Then she heard a noise. She cut her stream. She looked up, staring off into the woods for any sign of life. Then, after a moment, her stream continued. Up on a branch opposite her, a robin sat, staring at her. Its gaze tilted to the side. Amy stared back at it.

John stared at her from behind, her whole body captured within the black lifeless eye of his phone. Amy stared, then her gaze, like the robin’s, tilted. John focused down on her ass, zooming in, watching the stream as it slowed down.

They were both so occupied with the beautiful sight before each of them, such wondrous examples of nature in action, that neither of them noticed there was another interloper among them.

A streak of soft and luscious orange shot past Amy’s peripheral, pulling her gaze in a sudden jerk. She shrieked, falling on her ass. John’s camera snapped over, catching the moment in its absurdity. A fox looked back at her, the same panties which hugged her giant ass now in its mouth, dangling from its jagged teeth. She shot up, disappearing from John’s frame, and the fox, in response, bolted.

John tried to catch it, but instead what filled the frame from behind was his mother and her giant naked backside, as she ran through the woods, bottomless, to catch the little thief. Her fat ass jiggled in her frantic bolt, and did so with the red circle flashing on screen, a gift, as John realized, even in the frantic thrust of the moment, that all of this would be recorded, and would stay recorded, for all of time; all of it in such vivid detail, that the every ripple of Amy’s ass could be combed over just as vividly as the every droplet which still spilled from beneath her, or every micro-expression of that trouble face.

She slowed down and stopped, seeing the creatures dip through the foliage as naturally as water in a stream. She stood there, her palms now on her knees, struggling for breath. The every ripple of her ass articulated itself for John’s camera with every inhale and exhale. She then turned around. John leaned back, obscuring himself further behind the tree, but never losing track of her in the frame. He caught her slight black bush, and he thanked his stars that she turned around again to grab her leggings, catching another great shot of her ass as she pulled them up and over it. Her cheeks squeezed within, sans her panties. She dusted off her hands, sighed, and turned around.

Nothing but pure nature for the foreseeable distance. She sighed again, adjusting to the fact that this was nature, part of the experience, and maybe even would be considered ‘fun’ for some people. Then she took her first step forward and toward the main path.

John came onto the path, straining for breath.

“Did you-“ Leo asked.

John nodded wordlessly.

“Let’s see it,” Dylan said.

They heard the disturbed brush behind John, and soon, Amy appeared.

They all looked on her with smiles, wry and menacing. And she looked back at them, from one face to the other.

They all looked away quickly.

Amy went on, somehow making it to the front of the line, as usual, with all the boys trailing behind. There was a peaceful silence for a while, until it was broken by Dylan’s voice. “Miss Li,” he said.

Everyone stopped. The boys all felt a sudden rush of dread. Amy turned around.

“You have-“ he pointed down toward her backside, not saying the word.

She looked down, seeing twigs and some dirt there. She blushed. She brushed it away with her hand, her ass jiggled from the pressure. She looked back up at Dylan. “Thank you,” she said.

He smiled back, unassuming. “No problem,” he said. She turned around and kept moving. “It was my pleasure.”

“Ah, will you look at that,” Liam said. Everyone turned to see him standing there, his face uncharacteristically bright. “A great white trillium.”

They all looked down to see a flower sitting there, wide-spread and three-pedalled. Amy stared down at it hardest. “It’s so… beautiful,” she said.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned and was shocked to see it was Liam. He seemed to be partially in a trance. He guided her to the flower, and she felt the need to lean down as he did. “See that… that pedal formation? That’s how you tell.”

He continued, and as he and Amy stared down at the beautiful white flower, they all stared at Amy, imagining the beautiful white flower in those leggings. As Liam continued, stuck in his trance and the thrill of his own expertise on the subject (goaded out further by having Amy so close and attentive) all the boys, including John, took their shot, pulling their phones out and filming that ass bent over.

Liam and Amy both looked at the flower between them, then up at each other. Suddenly, Liam froze, catching himself, filling with sudden self-awareness. He shot back up. And Amy, slowly, stood back up herself. “Let’s go,” Liam said. And they all continued.

“What’s that one,” Leo asked after a while.

“What’s that what?” Liam said, not catching on.

“That flower?”

“It’s a goldenrod,” he said, unceremoniously, not even slowing down.

Leo sighed, exasperated.

Tom stopped. “Oh look,” he said. “It’s a—” he froze for a second, realizing he had bit off more than he could chew. “It’s a coldwater soap stone.” He kneeled down, his elbows on his knees confidently. He looked up at Amy. “These are special here in Ohio.” He pointed down at what looked like any regular old rock.

She looked down at it, squinting her eyes.

John stepped aside to let the other boys pass him, all of them ready with their phones. Tom began pointing at the rock, all its inconsequential details. “Here we have a heave cleft, which shows that the rock has been… um… it’s volcanic.” Amy leaned down further to see this particularity in the stone, searching for anything she could to justify Tom’s fascination with it, Ohio’s apparent fascination with it in general.

Tom’s grin floated to the surface of his expression as he saw not only Amy’s giant ass in his peripheral, but his friends crowding around it with their phones, capturing it in its nice bent-over glory.

As they continued up the path, Liam, now getting the hint, looked for more flowers to distract Amy with. Every time he did, a thrilling pulse ran through John, enjoying the fuss his friends made over his own mother. They were like bees buzzing around a hive, and the honey which drove them to such fervor was theirs to manipulate and guide.

Dylan, most shamelessly of all, while standing on tiny, rickety bridge, convinced Amy to peer over its edge at what was just a dirty and shallow creek. As she did, the phones became more brazen, hovering right up to her leggings-clad ass, capturing those luscious cheeks as Dylan looked on at the others with arrogant, smug eyes.

It was then that John remembered why they were out there, and his fear and his excitement rose both. Watching the boys crowd around his mother, their youthful energy and virility, their inability to contain themselves and their wry natures, just bubbling below a façade, all of it got to John in a way he couldn’t even put words to, not in his Mandarin or English.

They continued on, and as they rose up an incline, they all watched Amy’s ass, looking even bigger than usual, as it strained to bring her body up the rising hill.

When they made it to the top, the view burst on them, shocking them in its grandeur. Amy felt her breath catch in her throat. She looked on, seeing the forest stretch on from above, and though she had seen similar sights back home, it was the slight differences of the American Midwest which made it all new to her again. A memory came back to her, one from back home, as she stood on a hill just like this one, her late husband next to her, the two of them heading back home, hungover and sore from a night of drinking games in the rural hills. The thought of those smiling toothless grins came back to her, and, as if to shake the rising and unexplainable discomfort, she spun around, facing John. “Here,” she said. “The perfect spot for photos.”

The smile on John’s face faded.

“What’s the next one, John?” she asked. She slowly relaxed, her hand falling from her hip. John looked down at the photograph, noting how big his mom’s ass looked like, even when shot from the front. Her tits just hung beautifully there.

They’re getting their money’s worth, he thought. “Okay,” he said in Mandarin. “Turn to the side. Like that. Yes. Now squat there.” Amy did as she was told, taking John’s direction as if he were the photographer for the ad company itself.

The boys watched Amy’s body, her demeanor going from an accidental to very intentional sexy each time, shocked that she had that in her. They all snapped photos openly of her, doing so as if it were just to capture the moment. Amy felt like a star. Part of her forgot that Autumn even existed, and she saw herself, in this moment, as the most popular of all the moms, the biggest celebrity, and, as much as it shamed her to tease the thought, as a gift for all John’s friends. She wasn’t wrong, in fact, she was more on the money than she’d ever know.

“Okay,” John said. “Now sit on that rock.”

Amy turned around, looked at her son, then back to the giant boulder. She moved to it, sitting on it.

“Now pull your knee up.”

The boys watched, hearing John in Mandarin, and seeing its equivalent being played out visually in Amy’s body. She held her knee up with her palms, her body thick and soft against the hard stone.

John snapped more pictures. “Get a lot,” she said.

“I know, I know.”

They neared the end of the list, and John, coming to enjoy himself too much now, was unwilling to let go of the moment. “Okay,” he said. “Next one.”

Amy didn’t question it, and she leaned over on the rock, displaying more of her ass, meeting John’s specifications.  John then got her to turn around. He improvised, telling her to hold her hand as a visor above her eyes, as if she were gazing out at the distance, straining her body forward to see, giving the camera a perfect and deliberate shot of her bent-over butt-cheeks. The boys took their own photos of it, its size and shape, amplified by her strange posture. “What next, John?” she asked.

John stuttered while describing the next one: “Your face resting on your arms, your… uh… bottom… up in the air.”

Amy looked back at him, her brow furrowing. John only stared back, trying to look firm and natural. She slowly turned around, doing as she assumed (or hoped) the sponsor wanted it.

The boys stared at her luscious ass up in the air, stared at her tits which squished now against the rock.

John then got her off the rock, turned around, bending down forward, showing off her luscious cleavage. Amy’s perturbation, however slight, could be seen in the shot. The boys’ eyes all glowed as they snapped their personal photos, living in the aura of her giant breasts.

“Now turn around,” John said in mandarin. “And… pull down the pants.”

Amy’s brows furrowed.

John continued, startled. “Pull them down on the side. So… it says here there needs to be a shot… of…. cheek.”

Amy stared for a moment, seeing a bead of sweat, an unnatural one, falling from John’s dark hairline. She grimaced, then, looking at the other boys, seeing their eyes fixed to their phones. “What?” she asked.

John didn’t answer.

“John,” she repeated. He looked up from the phone, his face burning red. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he said, briskly. “That’s what it says.”

She stared at him for a moment. Then she slowly, reluctantly, turned around, grabbed the waist of her leggings, and pulled down.

All the boys’ eyes lit up, catching the out-of-context right cheek of Amy’s ass.

“A little more,” John said, his voice husky and dry. “Just ‘til we get… the top of the… crack…” his voice ‘cracked’ at that very word.

She stood there for a moment, but, again, couldn’t bring herself to openly question John’s intentions with all his friends standing here. She did as she was told, but slowly.

“Lower…” John said, swallowing afterward. “Lower… yeah… yeah… like that.” He snapped more pictures.

He felt a strange power over his mother, knowing how powerful shame and saving face was for his people, particularly her, and how she had to believe her was telling her the truth because of it, especially with so many witnesses to see her now if she’s been duped. He knew he had her where he wanted her. So much so, that he had to restrain himself from trying to get her to expose her entire ass. The thought of asking though, the thought of getting her to even spread both her cheeks right then and there, so every one of his friends could see what was between them, felt electric within him. Instead he managed to control himself and say: “now pull your leg up. That stretch where you pull your foot to your… yeah, like that…”

Amy was pulling her leg up along her torso, pulling it up to her head, feeling the stretch, seeing the merit in this one in a way that it didn’t exist for the others. After all, these were technically exercise pants anyway. She pulled up, straining herself, fearing she’d lose balance, and as she did so, a sound, one like a tearing, began to cut slowly through the air. She felt a sudden shock, not knowing where the sound was coming from, perhaps for a moment imagining it as a hissing snake. Her body stiffened up, her leg pulled up higher, more perfect, and that’s when her leggings had enough.

She hadn’t even realized what had happened, until she saw John’s face, staring down at the face of her phone, which was shaking about with his violent taps against it, getting photo after photo. She looked to the boys slowly, trying to keep her balance. They all glared at her, their thumbs busy with their own phones, each snapping a fleury of images.

She looked down, seeing nothing but black bush, and the lips of her pussy, looking back up at her through a freshly-torn hole in her crotch. She gasped.

She looked back up at her son, her ankle at her ear, forgetting it could be any other way. “Yixin!” she screamed.

John’s busy thumb stopped. He stared at his mom through the screen of her phone. She scowled back at him, nude from the waist below, her face as angry and stern, furious even, as it would have been with her home, fully clothed, giving him a dress down over grades.

“Delete those,” she demanded. He stared at her for a moment, doing nothing. Then slowly, realizing how absurd she looked, realizing the others were still taking photos of her in this absurd state, her foot slowly came to the ground. She then rushed over to John, looking down at her phone, grabbing it from his hands. All the while, the boys took more shots of her, catching her big glorious ass, its cheeks peach-pink with shame.

John passed his mom a spare shirt, his fingers trembling, and she threw it over her torso, letting it fall over her crotch and ass.

A growing worry gained with the boys, each of them looking to the other, concerned that she would be furious enough to call this whole trip off. But instead, she turned, humiliated and red, to Liam, expecting him to give the next direction to the site. Only then they sighed a silent and collective hum of relief.

The tent sat, strong and assertive, next to the running flow of the river.

Amy stood there, her hands on her knees, excited to see it. Dylan stood behind her, smiling at her ass, which had swallowed some of John’s shirt. Amy then reached for the hem of the shirt carelessly, and tugged it out. Dylan’s grin turned into a look of unbelievable bliss at seeing it.

“Good job, Liam,” Tom said, smacking his friend on the shoulder. “We couldn’t have done it without you as architect.”

Liam shook Tom’s hand loose, embarrassed.

“And right next to the river,” Leo said. “Perfect spot for an evening swim.”

The boys all agreed. Amy stood aside, silent, not thinking much of the moment, until they began reaching into their bags for their swim wear. She stepped back, trying to look inconspicuous.

Dylan’s pants were the first to come off, and Amy stared shocked at him standing there, trunks in hand, only in his underwear. Then, he reached down for the waist of those. He pulled, and Amy stood stunned. His cock, floppy but slightly hard, fell out, and twitched a bit. She didn’t notice his slight grin above, only saw him readying his trunks to pull over himself. She looked away, but soon caught Tom standing there, his cock out, entirely hard. Tom stood there for a moment, squinting down at his trunks, then he looked out at the creek, his eyes narrowed, not even eager to make himself decent again. She looked down at the twitching red head of his cock, and the balls which were smooth and peach-haired beneath. Just looking at it, she felt her mind flash back to Avery’s cock, looking so much like his son’s, as it poked up and at her horrified mouth. Liam’s clothes came off next, his thighs blushing and red, and his testicles not too different. His cock swung loose and suspended itself in mid-air. John was next to him, his dick exposed to his mother’s sight with a similarly flushed tone, then they both pulled their trunks up. She watched those cocks disappear within.

Tom was still standing there, his cock out in the open, looking off, distracted.

“Enjoying the moment, Tom?” It was Leo’s voice from behind Amy.

Amy’s eyes shot wide, and she spun around quickly.

Standing there was Leo, fully clothed still. Amy’s heartbeat slowed.

“How about you?” Tom asked. “You’re just going to swim like that? Or are you going to put on a jacket too?”

“Eager to get me nude, huh Tom?” Leo reached down for his shorts. He pulled them down and his underwear came down with them.

A cock, big, brown, and snakelike, fell from his shorts, only half-hard, but still sturdy in the air. He pushed his hips forward slightly as he stepped out from his shorts and underwear, then he kept the unnatural position, letting his cock breath, inhaling and exhaling with every twitch, as he readied his swim trunks.

All the boys smiled at the back of Amy’s head, watching her in her stillness. Tom cock twitched as he stood there, contrasting Amy’s voluptuous softness, the ass eating the fabric of that shirt, as it contrasted with Leo’s masculine perfection.

John stood there, ambivalently electric. He looked over, seeing Dylan shoot him a wink.

Leo leaned down, ready to pull his trunks up. Then, just as they were at his thighs, he stopped. Then he looked up.

Amy stared back at him.

“No swimming, Mrs. Li?”

Amy was startled. “I- uh- I didn’t bring bathing suit.”

Leo shot up, his back up straight. His cock still hung out, his testicles resting on the edge of his trunks. “That’s a shame. It’s no reason to not go for a dip though.” Amy stared, trying to not look down. She did anyway, seeing his cock, long and hard, so similar to his father’s she implicitly assumed, without words mind you, that it tasted the same. She looked back up to see Leo staring at her inconspicuously. “It’s part of the camping experience.” He looked down and away from her after a moment. Pulling up his trunks. Then he stopped when they were halfway over his cock. Amy stared down at it. “You can…” She shot up to see his gaze. “… I mean, if you want—you can just wear your underwear.”

Amy felt a hand on her shoulder. She spun around to see John standing there, a fresh pair of panties in his hand. She looked past him to see Tom standing there, staring, still naked from the waist down. His cock twitching.

As the boys got into the water, they called to her, informing her the water was great, seemingly obsessed, it seemed to her, getting to experience a camping swim. Amy felt the pressure, and soon she was putting on the panties behind the meager cover of a tree. Liam could see her nude ass peeking out from over its edge as she slipped on the panties. Then she came out, still in a shirt, a slight smile on her face.

The boys watched her, directly or through the corner of their eyes, as she splashed into the water. Her tits jiggled with the intensity of the splashing water itself. She felt the cold rush up her ankles and then thighs, and the boys gave her moral support as she tried to push herself waist deep. The water crawled slowly over her crotch, she shuddered with her eyes closed. Then they opened. Again, the boys gave her more moral support as the water crawled up her chest. Once her giant breasts were submerged, she was in.

She felt a hand grab hers beneath the water. “Come on, Mrs. Li,” Leo said. “Here.” He placed his hand on her head, softly. “Big plunge now.” He smiled at her warmly. And just like that, they were both under the water. They looked at each other, the same but different, through a filter of hazy grey. “The boys stood submerged behind, staring at her ass in the shirt as it gave way to underwater gravity. John looked down at her toes, kicking up rocks and puffs of sand opposite Leo’s. Amy was weightless there, her hair wild, her eyes wide and wonderful.

John felt his breath giving so he came out to the surface, meeting Liam there. Tom and Dylan soon followed. Tom looked around at the others, then at John. He motioned toward the water, where Leo and Amy were still submerged, with his head and said “he never got his piece yet, hey?”

John only stood there, his stomach uneasy. Tom looked to Liam. “You too. First timer.” He looked back at John with a grin.

The water splashed, and they both looked over, shocked to see only Leo standing there.

Underneath the water, Amy stood there, scattering rocks and sand with her toes, staring straight ahead at the snake which sat, still only half-hard, in those trunks right before her face. After a moment. She came back up too.

“-your piece,” Tom just finished saying.

They all looked over at Amy. Amy smiled, joyfully at the boys. Leo looked back at Tom. “I’ll get it soon enough,” he said.

Amy stood there. Her tits big and magnificent in that wet shirt, her nipples visible through both its fabric and fabric of the bra. She turned around, her ass glorious and swam off. Dylan shot for her, humming John Williams’ Jaws score as he came. The language of it was universal and Amy, laughing, swam faster. She turned, seeing Dylan coming and she screamed playfully as she kicked.

She felt his hand on her ankle, and he pulled. Beneath the water, his hand hovered over her giant wet ass, as if his palms had eyes and he was taking it in there, then his hand shot up, poking her platonically in her shoulder. “Got you,” he said, smiling down at her. He kicked off, backpedalling toward the others. “Mrs. Li is the shark!” he called.

Amy looked over at them, dumbstruck. Slowly, a smile took her face. She pushed off, unsettling more sand and stone and she was off.

They played shark for the next few minutes. Amy was at a disadvantage, her voluptuous body slowing her down within the water. But the boys, being more aquiline, still had to deal with the resistance of their erections, which only grew harder as the game went. Amy’s body was tagged on her shoulders, waist, hips, ankles, and the crown of her head. The boys somehow being able to contain themselves. Though Amy, being more innocent in her play, and therefore less careful, did, to her shock, tag the others, including John, once or twice by the tip of their cocks. Once, after catching Leo’s, she froze. Leo shot toward Tom, growling like sharks don’t, and Amy just stood there in the water for a moment. Then the two of them came back her way, Tom screaming, and her smile came back. She kicked off and was gone.

“It’s not fair,” she said at some point, standing up in a shallow place. “Halftime, halftime,” she said. And she grabbed the waist of John’s shirt, tugging it upward. All the boys stopped to watch. She came free of the shirt, now only in her bra and panties, thick and voluptuous there in the falling sunlight. She dropped the shirt to the side and it fell among the rocks. She then dove forward into the water and toward the others, her giant breasts jiggling in the creak. Her ass, in that perfect red thong, doing much the same. The game continued as normal, though the boys dove beneath the water twice as often now, and she felt herself being tagged much more often now by her calves, thighs, or the small of her back. Except once, by Dylan, when he gave her ass a smack and swam off, screaming in fear. But on the other side of his turned-away head, he wore a big giant smile.

Amy emerged from the water, her curves dripping wet.

The boys watched, still shamelessly erect, even John.

She was bereft of a towel as well, so Tom offered her one. She waited patiently as he dug for it. Then he presented, below her eyes, a small dish towel. She stared down at it, then up at Tom, who looked back at her, grinning from cheek to cheek. She smiled back, grabbed it, and began drying herself. As she did, the boys nonchalantly (as nonchalantly as possible) filled their phones with images and videos of her thick body.

As she was mostly finished, her hair still wet, her tits still glistening, Leo looked to her. “You cold, Mrs. Li?”

She shook her head. But even as she did, she shivered.

Leo looked over at Liam. “Okay, nature boy. Time to invent fire.”

Amy’s eyes reflected the orange flame as she glared at it. They had found logs, and she sat on hers, which she shared with Liam, her ass spilling over its opposite end. 

As she sat there, taking in the growing sounds of cricket calls, the fresh air against her skin, the boys, sitting around her soaked up her energy, Amy bringing more heat to them than the fire itself.

The crickets chirped in the growing darkness. Amy’s gaze only shot up when she heard the hoot of an owl.

“Hooters,” Tom said.

“Yeah,” Dylan said. “They have big ones out here.”

There was a silence, one that Amy took no note of.

Leo leaned forward, his elbows falling to his knees. He looked to Dylan. He motioned to the guitar which lay on the backpack behind him. “D’you bring that thing out just to look cool?”

Dylan turned around, then looked back at Leo. Then he turned around again and crawled to it. “Any requests?” he asked.

“Pink Floyd, Wish You Were Here,” Liam said, nervously.

Dylan sat back down. “Good choice. I was worried Soul Man over here would ask for Sir Mix-A-Lot.”

“Maybe for an encore,” Leo said.

Dylan set the guitar on his knees. Amy watched him, her tits resting on hers.

Dylan cleared his throat. He strummed once or twice, then began tuning. Then he strummed again. He nodded, and began.

Amy watched his fingers, first listening carelessly, then intently, become more transfixed with each moment as the music continued, beautifully wrapping the night and moment into one perfect tapestry. She looked again, blinking, almost forcing herself to take in the fact that the source of these notes, the source of their atmosphere and their rich feelings, sat there on that log, Gianna’s son.

His face scrunched itself up, as if possessed by some deep pain. And then his mouth fell open and music came out, decorating the guitar strums. And, to Amy’s shock and surprise, it was beautiful.

Visions of John’s dad were conjured for her, and though she was slow to picking up on the lyrics, she could hear the main crux of it, the phrase that repeated itself beautifully through Dylan’s shockingly beautiful voice: “Wiisssh you were heere!”

Her eyes became moist.

The guitar strummed itself off into the night, then, when the song was exhausted, it slowed down, then fell to nothing. There was silence.

Amy sat there, deep in a pit of her own emotions.

Then the moment burst: “Now Sir-Mix-A-Lot?” Leo asked sarcastically.

Amy looked over at him.

Dylan began strumming to the rhythm, humming along as he did.

“I like … and I cannot lie,” Leo mumbled softly. “….. can’t deny.”

Dylan stopped. “No,” he said. “It’s obscene… and topical… Next suggestion.”

“Joni Mitchell,” Liam added, this time more confidently.

Dylan tuned his guitar, almost as if he was about to do it. “You know, Liam,” he said without looking up. “There comes a time when a young man has to stop with the gay shit.”

Tom laughed. “Is it gay?”

Dylan shook his head. “No. Joni Mitchell’s fine. I’m just kidding…” He adjusted his guitar on his lap. “I can’t hit those notes though. Something that a man can sing. A man’s man.”

“Rocking in the Free World,” Tom said.

“Rocking in the Free World,” Dylan repeated. He began strumming.

Amy sat transfixed there, her curves, still mostly exposed, were orange and stark against the bristling fire light, her long line of cleavage still as exposed and black as it would be in daylight. She stared at Dylan playing, hearing the words, not understanding them necessarily, at least not when put together, but feeling the pathos, the sense of irony, longing and disillusionment. And though she would never dare to guess the meaning of the song, what they spoke out to her—though she couldn’t put it into words, even in Mandarin—reminded her of everything she felt since leaving home, since coming here and adjusting. She sat in the darkness, feeling that uncanny strangeness grow, all while the minds of the boys, even Dylan who sang, and John who was her son, were filled with thoughts of her, all of them stealing glances as sneaky and critter-like as the things which slept or crawled beyond within the black night.

The song ended. More were played, and Amy was still shocked to be discovering this different side of Dylan. Eventually they settled on American Pie. The boys, sans John, all sang along. With Amy eventually picking up on the chorus and joining them. John stared at her, swaying there to the music, her body unbelievable, possessed by the spirit of this land. Her tits swaying to its motion, the shape of her thighs and ass changing as her weight shifted.

As the song neared its end, she began to yawn, and the boys all looked subtly at each other when she did.

She suddenly stood up, and they all looked to her. Her body was visible and bare in the firelight. Her head obscured by the shadows above. Liam, sitting behind her, stared directly at her ass, its big butt cheeks unruly and in his face.

“Are you going to be able to sleep?” John asked in Mandarin.

Amy turned around. “I think so,” she said.

John’s mind was filled with memories of him stepping slowly through the house at night, knowing even the slightest noise would wake his mom up, no matter how deep in sleep she was. “The owls will be hooting all night,” John said.

“I have sleeping pills,” Tom suggested, in English.

John looked to him.

Amy did too. Tom disappeared in the tent. As he did, and during the sound of his busy digging about, Amy’s gaze shot to the ground. John looked at her, worried by her expression, terrified that she’d catch on to the fact that Tom knew what they were discussing, even though they were speaking in Chinese.

John’s mind was frantic with excuses, but it turned out to be all for not. Tom came back out, handing her a pill. As he did, John looked at their bodies standing there opposite each other, their faces obscured in the darkness above. “Take this,” Tom said. “And you’ll be able to sleep through a storm.” Tom’s voice cracked a little as he said it. John looked down to see Tom’s cock, hard and twitching in his trunks, opposite the red crotch of his mom’s panties.

John’s cock twitched in his own pants, and though he could make out no one else’s, he could see Dylan adjusting, leaning back in the darkness, the way he always did when he was getting…. He could imagine Dylan sitting naked in Tom’s basement.

“Thank you, Tom,” Amy said. John saw her hand pull up into the darkness. When it came back down, it was empty of any pill.

“D-don’t mention it,” Tom said. His cock twitched.

They watched Amy go, all of them, their veins electric. Her ass jiggled, with nearly zero stability, with each step toward the tent. They watched her bend over, watched her zip up its flap, her giant ass just-visible in the night, and watched it jiggle as she crawled within. The tent flap was zipped closed inside, locking her within, and they stared at it for a moment. Then they all turned around to face each other with a sudden gravity. Leo again turned around to look at the tent. Then looked back.

Dylan went to speak, and Tom put his finger up to quiet him. “Give it a few minutes,” he said softly.

A few minutes past, all entirely in silence. Dylan looked around. “Is she out, you think?”

“For sure she is.”

“So we can…”

Tom shook his head. “She’ll still wake up if we…”

“How long?”

“Twenty minutes.”

They were all silent, all still under a new and heavier gravity. John the most stuck and frozen to his log, sitting alone. He looked over to Liam to see him staring down at the place where Amy was sitting moments earlier.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a while, John.”

John looked over to see Leo looking directly at him, nothing but earnestness in his eyes.

“Thanks for convincing her to come out.”

“She’s going to get it nice and rough,” Dylan said, then he looked over at the tent. “Bim, boom, pap. Like a Jackie Chan movie.”

Liam spoke up, quieter than the rest. “All the way from China. Only to get…” he stared at the tent door.

Tom spoke: “If anybody—and I mean any ‘body’—deserves that treatment. It’s hers.”

Leo: “I love that wet t-shirt look. Especially on a body like that. I used to watch videos of bitches like that. It was awesome to see John’s mom that way.”

Liam nodded silently.

“You mean Vida Guerara,” Dylan said.

“Yes!”

“I seen that exact video. During a very important time in my life. Very… formative…” He smiled devilishly at the fire.

“Your mom probably didn’t help, huh?” Tom said.

“Look who’s talking.”

“Well, I’m talking from experience here. We all are.”

Liam again nodded.

“What are you nodding at?” Dylan asked him. “We all seen John’s mom’s bush today. Why don’t you add your own mom to the wood pile. What’s the sexiest thing you’ve seen the famous Autum Jones in?”

“You mean, besides naked?” Liam asked in earnest.

Dylan adjusted himself, clearly aroused. “Yeah.”

“Mm.” Liam was silent for a moment. “Once…. On Halloween. She dressed up like… you know Elvira?” Some said yeah, others shook their head. “Like that vampire girl with huge ti- with huge boobs?”

Dylan grabbed his shorts and bounced up off the log to pull them down. His hard cock came out, throbbing against the flame. He put his fingers on its tip and listened.

“That was a fun night,” Liam said, looking into the flame distantly.

“That’s fucking hot. Very fitting with her.” Dylan looked over at Leo. “How about you?”

“You wanna use my mom for jerk off meat, man?”

“Stop it, we’re already passed this. Spit it out.”

Leo thought for a moment. “Her salsa dress, I guess. I like that one. It’s one she wears, only on special occasions. But it sparkles. When she dances, her ass flashes like disco balls. I’m not into my mom like that. Like you guys. But still…”

“Yeah, sure you’re not...”

“What about you, fuckface?” Leo retorted. “Since you’re such an open book.”

Dylan leaned back, his cock, like a wolf, silently howled at the night. “Her rave outfits. Especially the ones with the mesh. Fuck… Whenever I see her in one of those--just knowing she’s shaking that ass in front of a million guys on drugs--I stay up all night, waiting for her to get home.”

“Waiting for what?” Tom asked.

There was a silence.

“How about you?” Dylan asked Tom without looking at him.

Tom adjusted his seat nervously. “My mom sometimes walks around in a robe. A nice silk one. She’s usually naked underneath. And I can see a lot. Mrmm. Also… the first time I saw her naked. On the beach. That was…” His eyes became glassy. “…that was awesome.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Have you told us this one?”

Tom squinted his brows at the fire, leaning back on his elbow. “Maybe. It was in Spain. It was a nude beach. I watched her strip in front of me. I couldn’t believe it. ‘Mom?’ I said. And she told me there was no issue. She said Europe wasn’t prudish like back home. I was horrified to see all those guys staring at my mom, but I couldn’t trick myself into thinking I didn’t enjoy seeing her like that.” He shifted his body a bit. “She said no one would care. But they all clearly did. She had the biggest tits on that beach. And they could tell she was an American.”

“Your mom is really fucking stupid, Tom,” Dylan said.

“I know…” he said. And he stared at the fire with a warm grin in the side of his mouth.

Dylan turned over to John. “How about you? Hit us with some culture shock. Shoot.”

John sat there for a long while.

“Any day now, when you finish meditating, you can spit it out.”

“Hot springs,” John said, and his imagination filled with the memory of her body, stepping into those mountain springs, her giant tits submerging within. John stepped in with her, being motivated to do so to hide his raging erection. And as he sat there, he sat there feeling electric, knowing that his mom was in there with him, that her body shared the same spring water that everyone else’s did.

Dylan laughed. “That’s perfect. A walking stereotype, you and her.”

“Your mom got into a hot spring naked?”

John nodded.

“With you? Then what happened? Were you hard?”

“I came,” he said.

The boys all laughed, knowing he was being literal, knowing he didn’t have it in him to be any other way.

“I get it,” Leo said. “We’ve all seen what she looks like wet.”

John was lost in his memory, recalling the happiness he felt, stiff and thorough, at watching his mom emerge again from outside of the water and steam, watching the unbroken line of her giant ass crack, and the cheeks which wobbled on their way up the rocks.

Dylan looked to Liam. “What about you, Ponyboy?”

Liam again was slow to answer. “You know what a wardrobe malfunction is?” Everyone nodded except John. “Okay. My mom’s tits bounced out of her dress when she was in Pride and Prejudice. Her massive melons were too big for her corset and on the last night she actually popped out of them.”

“Packed house?” Tom asked.

“Packed house…” Liam responded. “The entire theatre gasped when it happened.” He sighed. “She made a joke, and the audience laughed. But I knew they couldn’t get over it, even as the play went on.”

“Were you among those present?” Dylan asked with mock pomp.

“I was.”

“Oh fuck. I would pay a thousand dollars to have a video of your face when it happened. Not even her tits. Just you, sitting there, humiliated in the middle of the audience. Money well spent.”

“You’re one to talk,” Leo said, referencing recent events with Gianna.

Dylan was visibly annoyed. “At least I was used to it. She would walk around naked since I was a little boy. But…” He adjusted for leverage on his log. “…I guess the first time in public was at a Kid Rock concert. She got onto my shoulders just to flash her tits.”

“A precursor of what was to come.”

Dylan blew air through his nose. “Well anyways. I’m over it. Every cloud has its silver lining anyways.” He looked to John and winked. Then looked away. “Wait. What about you over there, darkie?”

Leo’s was reluctant to answer.

Dylan looked down at the back of his bare wrist as if there were a watch there. “Wow, niggardly as usual.”

“You’re lucky I know that word. Otherwise I’d fuck you up.”

“Sure you would, tough guy. Shut up and tell us.”

Leo sat there silently for a moment.  Then he spoke: “First time is when I walked into my parents’ bedroom.”

Dylan had a grin. He began to massage his cock. “And…?”

“….nothing. My mom was just naked.”

“Did she scream?” Tom asked.

“She didn’t see me. She was turned around.”

Dylan leaned forward, his aspect extra menacing in the firelit night. “And you closed the door when you saw her there. Right…?” He held onto that final word, a slow release into the night air.

Leo sat there, silently.

“Your mom deserves more than she’s gotten,” Dylan said.

John’s body tensed up.

“Oh yeah?” Leo shot out, both irritated and rhetorical.

“Big Latina ass. Somebody’s gonna get it other than your dad. And whoever does… god speed…”

John sat in the darkness, breathless.

“Why must you wish on others that which has befallen you, my friend,” Tom said with a pompous accent, diffusing the tension. “Speaking of ‘getting it,’ let’s raise the stakes here. Dylan, when’s the first time you’ve seen someone get really, let’s say, ‘fresh’ with your mom?”

“When do they not?” Dylan said, and shrugged at the fire.

“Yeah, but when’s the first time?”

Dylan stared at the flames, first as if to remember, then as if he had remembered and could never forget. He took a deep breath, then he spoke as if he were describing the weather. “When me and Charlie were young, she was driving with us in the car. She was drunk at the time. I didn’t know. I didn’t even know what being drunk was back then.” He looked down at his dick. It sat there flaccid. He began jerking it nonchalantly as if to get himself excited for something. Still, his voice was dry. “We hit some bushes. And when the cops came and saw she was sloshed, they took her behind the car and searched her cavities for drugs too.”

Leo and Tom looked over the moon to hear this story. John and Liam only stared at Dylan, finding it in themselves to sympathize.

“Did they find any?” Tom asked sarcastically.

“None they didn’t shove in there first.”

“Did they book her?” Leo asked.

Dylan looked up somberly. “Yeah,” he said. “They sentenced her to community service in the back of their squad car for thirty minutes.”

“Only thirty?” Tom said incredulously.

“Jesus,” Leo said. “And I thought they were quick to bust when the suspect’s black.”

“Like I said,” Dylan started. “Your mom will get it soon.”

“Already has.” Everyone looked to Leo. He looked around, realizing he had made a mistake. “No, no.” He said. “I was just talking shit.”

“Weird way to do it,” Dylan said.

“Oh, I remember this story,” Tom said. Everyone looked at him, even Leo, surprised. “You told me after it happened. When we were in grade school. Your cousins fondled your mom.”

Leo’s face turned as red as it could get. He had forgot he had told anyone.

“Taco or chicken-eating cousins,” Dylan asked with mirth in his throat.

“The black ones. On his dad’s side. His mom got drunk at their barbeque and his cousins groped her in her room while everyone was still outside.”

“Whoah!”

“They stripped her naked and everything.”

“And you saw that?” Dylan asked. “And did nothing?”

“I was eight years old!” Leo shot back, sounding as childish and weak in this moment as he must’ve sounded then.

“Okay, okay, but don’t tell me that doesn’t get you off, at least a little bit thinking about it now. I mean… that’s an exciting thing to witness.”

Tom and Liam seemed to be in silent agreement with Dylan.

Tom buttted in. “I saw my mom’s tits get groped by Mr. Allister at a charity gala. She was pretty drunk on wine at the time, and seemed as shocked as I was. She didn’t say anything about it to my dad. Mr. Allister, that fuck, was too ‘charitable’ to be insulted like that.  It scared the hell out of me at the time. But it’s one of my all-timers from the spank bank now.”

“Time heals all,” Dylan said. “And you, John?”

John looked over nervously.

“Since your mom’s the one on the slab now, why don’t you tell us about the first time she was there.”

John, as usual, took a while to speak, and when he did, he spoke slowly. “On the train,” he said. “In China. It’s always packed. Packed full of people.”

“Packed house,” Leo said, repeating the phrase from earlier.

“Some young men crowded around her.”

Everyone stared at him, waiting.

“And they touched her all over.”

“Tits, ass, everything?” Tom asked.

“Everything,” John said, and looked down.

“What did she say?”

“She said ‘Tíngzhǐ, Tíngzhǐ.’ Uh, ‘stop.’”

“I bet it worked, right?” Dylan asked sarcastically.

“The train was packed by nobody did a thing. They all just watched her get her big tits played with by the boys.”

Dylan spun around. “And you. You have any blind items about the famous Autumn Jones?”

Liam looked back at him, then at the others. “You know Chris Hemsworth?”

“Yeah?” Dylan asked, riveted.

“I saw him fingering my mom at an event.”

Everyone was speechless.

“He cornered her near the bathrooms. He brushed her dress aside and then he…. Just went to town.”

“And nobody saw?” Leo asked.

“They did…” Liam shrugged. “But it’s Hollywood.”

“How many fingers?” Dylan asked. “Two? Three?”

“Four,” Liam said.

Dylan was playing with his hard dick again. “That’s nice. I like hearing that.”

Everyone sat there in silence for a moment, watching Dylan in his silent pleasure.

Then Dylan spoke again, probing for more. “Ever see anyone… you know…. Fuck her?” He was jerking off. “The less consensual the better, I think.”

“Her casting couch video was legendary,” Liam said.

They all stared at him.

“For what project?” Dylan asked, sounding feverish to hear it. “I hope it was worth it.”

“For Cool Mom,” Liam said. “I’d say it was pretty worth it.” He shuffled in place. “But even if it wasn’t, the tape is her best work.” There was an aroused bitterness in the statement.

“Did it have a laugh track?” Tom asked.

“Honest to god,” Liam said. “She said some of the funniest things I ever heard in that clip. Even while she was being plowed.”

“A true professional,” Leo said.

“Speaking of professional then…” Dylan looked over the fire at Leo. “We know your mom is probably the best in bed.”

“Your mom has more experience, Dyl.”

“But yours knows how to move those hips.”

Leo winced, and everyone saw it.

“Wasn’t shy of the mark, I see,” Dylan said.

“No. I wish I could say you were wrong.” Leo’s eyes were shut. “I saw her in her room. She was bouncing up and down on my dad’s cock, and gyrating, and everything. Uggh.”

“Caught her in her room…” Dylan said. “Again… What a coincidence.”

Leo didn’t respond.

“That’s hot stuff,” Dylan said. “But I was looking for something a little less fun for the mom. Hmm, let me give you guys an example. We went to a concert once, Bon Jovi, and my mom—surprise, surprise—got herself liquored up again. These guys were looking at her. Couldn’t keep their eyes off her. And when we left, on our way to the car, they grabbed her, right in front of me. They threatened to beat my ass once, and I just stood there and watched them have their way with her. They must have thought I was a pussy or something… Meanwhile, I was just nodding inside. Like ‘I told you not to dress that way, mom, you idiot.’” He stopped and sat there in silence, his prick hard. “If any of you get the chance, turn your moms into alcoholics. It makes Saturday nights a lot of fun. Especially if you have no dad in the house to stop you. I’ve been using mom bi-weekly. Which is probably more than most other guys.” He laughed to himself.

Tom shot up in the dark and reached for his waistband. He pulled his shorts down, letting his cock free, and he sat back down. “I’ll do you one better. I once spent a whole day watching my mom get it.”

Everyone stared at him. “What do you mean?” Leo asked.

“We got robbed out in the woods on a jog. The guys of course weren’t really eager for anything other than her once they saw her. When we went to go get help, things just got worse and worse. I think every hick in this county got a taste of her tits. If you’ve never seen your mom getting raped by bikers, Dylan, or a trucker even, then you haven’t lived.”

“I watched her fuck both, but… damn… Evelyn Richards getting raped like that. Of all people. How did she take it?”

“She didn’t take it. I think she doesn’t even believe it happened. How could it? Not to her? She’s the main character of life.”

“Speaking of main character,” Leo said. He looked over to John. “The main character of tonight. Have you ever seen her… ‘get it?’”

John sat there for a moment. Then he nodded. “Yeah.” He looked to Tom. “She sucked off Tom’s dad in my Uncle Tony’s restaurant. He forced her to.”

Everyone was silent. Tom looked shocked, ambivalent, between major emotions.

Dylan’s head fell back with laughter. “Mr. Richards, you dog. He’s working his way through the whole circle. He just needs to score Autumn and Sofia next, and he’s all our dads.”

Again, Tom looked over at Dylan with shock. Even still, his cock didn’t lose any of its rigidity.

Dylan began to calm down, no longer jerking off, remembering he had to save his horniness for the festivities coming up. “She should almost be ready soon, shouldn’t she?”

“She probably already is,” Tom said.

There was a silent gravity for a moment.

“Gang raping Amy,” Dylan said. “Fucking beautiful.”

Tom looked to John with concern. Then back to Dylan. “You don’t have to use that kind of language. We’re just having a good time.”

“A good time,” Dylan said, and began to laugh. “I remember the first time I had a ‘good time’ with my mom.”

Tom suddenly spoke up, eager to knock Dylan down a peg. “What a unique little snowflake you must feel like. Hate to steal your thunder, but…” He laughed and looked around at the expectant audience. “I’ve been fucking my mom since our trip to Thailand.”

They all stared at him, dryly, as if they didn’t think he was serious. But as the seconds past silently, it occurred to them that he was. “How- how did you manage that, Tom,” Leo asked.

“I dosed her with something some weirdo gave me at the resort. We had a full night of hot sex.” He laughed to himself in reminiscence. “She was so high. She told me all types of things she shouldn’t have. I laid next to her naked after we finished, not knowing if I should. Best decision in my life. She woke up with me hanging onto her. I guess she thought she had gotten too drunk the night before and had seduced me. At least that’s what I implied. Then I had sex with her right there. I don’t think she knew how to say no then.” He slowly sighed. “And ever since then, when we’re home alone, if I push just the right way, I get another go at it.” He stared at the fire, his cock throbbing. “It’s really improved our relationship, honestly.”

“Doesn’t it!?” Liam suddenly blurted out. He then looked around, seeing everyone staring at him. He retreated a bit within himself, but then realizing that the milk was already out of the bottle, he continued. “You know the tape I found?” he said. “The Bad Mom ‘audition?’ My mom knows I have it. She knows it’s saved on a cloud somewhere.” His awkward smile slowly became more confident, powerful even. “That affords me a lot of liberties,” he said.

“Describe them to us,” Dylan said. “What exactly are these liberties you speak of?”

Liam looked over Dylan’s shoulder, toward the shut flap of the tent. “You’ll see them in action soon,” he said.

Dylan smiled menacingly, then he looked over to Leo. “So Leo,” he said. “Given that you’re the most likely to rape out of any of us here—statistically speaking of course—when’s the first time you raped your mother.”

“You’re fucking sick.”

“If I am, we all are.”

Leo stared at him, then began laughing. “Yeah, but you’re still the worst of us.” He stopped laughing then he sat there for a moment. “Okay, okay,” he said. “I would never do that to my mother. But… my aunt Diamond. One time we all took a piece of her ass.”

“’We?’ Who’s ‘we?’”

“Me and my cousins…” he said reluctantly.

“The taco-eaters or chicken-eaters?”

“Chicken,” Leo said defiantly. “But they had their fair share of taco that night.”

“Oh, I bet they did. Alright Leo, one of the boys.”

There was a silence there for a moment, and soon, with nothing left to talk about, a growing awareness of what was to happen next.

Tom looked to everyone slowly. Then he spoke. “Well, I guess since we’re all initiated…” A great weight fell over the moment. “Maybe we should…”

They all looked over to the tent, all except John, who only felt it burning there out of sight. Tucked inside, their prize lay, ready and incapable of fighting back, no ability anymore to protect her own lusciousness against the whims of the tribe.

Dylan was the first to get up, and the others followed. John felt like he was floating on the way to the tent.

Dylan kneeled and grabbed the zipper. When he pulled it up, he did so with all the appetite of one opening up a can of fruit.

The tent opened, and she lay there, her eyes shut. The fire from behind them peaked into the tent, but Amy’s whole body, shapely within her sleeping bag, along with her face, was covered by their collective shadow.

“Oh god yes,” Dylan said, and he kneeled down. The others watched him crawl within, his bare ass, bony and pale, looking absurd to them, especially as it neared the sleeping and shapely perfection of Amy. He lay down next to her. He looked directly into her sleeping face. Then he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. He did it almost affectionately. But then he turned and looked at John. Seeing him there, a devilish expression took hold. He turned back to Amy, grabbed her hair with his hands, leaned in and gave it a thorough lick across the side of her face. “Mmm, sweet and sour,” he said. He grabbed the zipper on her sleeping bag, and after a deep breath, he tore it open.

He opened up its flap, and the they all saw Amy’s body emerge in the shadow. Leo reached out and grabbed her foot with his fingers extended between her toes. “Oh, Ms. Li,” he said.

John sat at the mouth of the tent, off to its side, watching his friends as they looked in at his sleeping mom. He felt as if he was at the mouth of some colossal moment, some impossible and dark beauty beyond all others.

Dylan grabbed her underwear and pulled down, Leo helping him pull it past her ankles, and not only was her gorgeous pussy exposed to the boys, but the thick patch of black pubic hair above it. Below, her giant ass cheeks which propped her up, a perpetual pillow for her hips, were visible. Dylan wasted no time inserting his fingers into her.

Tom looked to Leo and Liam. “You guys are in for a treat.”

The boys watched Dylan mount Amy. John felt the strangest sensation at watching Dylan’s cock penetrate her pussy, especially at hearing Dylan’s deep groan and Amy’s ignorant murmur. “Fuck yes, fuck yes,” Dylan hummed to himself, then he began thrusting into her. The boys watched the animalistic thrusts into the exotic matriarch, almost as if they were at some hearth, being warmed by her beauty and its violation both. John especially felt a bright intoxicating light within, not only at the sight of what his mother’s body was being subjected to, but the knowledge that others were there to witness it with him.

Dylan pulled out, and he scooched himself upward, his ass scraping against her open sleeping bag. He brought his cock to her face, slapped her cheek with it a few times, causing her to flinch in her sleep, and then, with a smile, pushed his cock between her lips. The boys watched Amy felate the worst of them. They watched her cheek bulge with the push of his cock, and her lips drip with saliva, its volume tinged white by pre-cum. John loved every sly rascally twist in Dylan’s hips as he plunged his cock within Amy’s mouth. He felt as if it, in some form, was all a show for him specifically. Dylan pulled his cock out and began rubbing his cock and balls all along her face. None of the boys complained or felt like she were being spoiled for them. The sight was just too wonderful.

After that, Dylan flipped her over with all the entitlement he had with his own mother. He mounted her ass, holding onto its giant volume, and began thrusting from behind. There was such a beautiful quiet to the night, which had its empty blankness filled with the sound of those slapping cheeks. Dylan grabbed her two arms by her wrists and pulled them back behind her. He held her there, still thrusting, as if she were a prisoner. As he pummelled, her face slid against her sleeping bag.

Dylan groaned announcing he was soon to finish. He reached for his cock, tugging it, as he aimed it towards Amy’s giant ass. Soon he was gushing over her ass and the crack between. “Okay,” he said, satisfied grin on his lips. “Who’s going to give her what she deserves next?”

Liam kneeled there, not even considering himself initially. Not until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked over to see Tom smiling warmly at him. “Go at her, Liam,” he said. “I need to know how she compares to the great Autumn Jones.”

Liam was slow to start, but then he slowly crawled within. He didn’t know what to do at first, and just sat next to her. Then he reached out. Feeling her weight in his grip, he tugged her close, pulling her nudity against himself. Then he stripped, and soon inserted himself inside her. Liam’s lips met Amy’s lips, cheeks, and chin, and he kissed her delicately as he thrusted, doing so with a longing romance. He had had practice for this internally, having imagined himself this way with every woman he knew. His thoughts, erotic as any of his friends’, filled also with a romance, imagining the moments before, after, and between the sex acts themselves. Internally, he had a whole world active and alive where Amy was his girlfriend, or even wife, and now that he had her below him, he could feel even further what it would be like if it were true. He had imagined himself this way with all their mothers, even Gianna, imagining, with a strange and intoxicating relish, being her cuckolded husband, being known that way by everyone. The closest he came to this fantasy though was not with Gianna, but with Amy. Dylan watched Liam kiss the same mouth he dragged his cock against, and he felt no dismissiveness against it, not even for a moment. Likewise, Liam thought he could taste Dylan on Amy’s breath and flesh, but that didn’t stop him one bit.

Liam then took head from Amy, sitting similar to Dylan. Then he turned her over delicately, and gave it to her from behind, doing so with gyrating thrusts, as if trying to give her, even in her sleep, pleasure which she couldn’t feel, using her as practice for the day when it would actually matter, just like he did with his mom. When he was finished, he followed Dylan’s lead, pulling out and cumming on her tits this time. He had a coy smile in the side of his mouth, satisfied by the territory he marked.

Leo was next. “She’ll love me even in her sleep,” he murmured. He stripped nude, and the boys, rather than feel inferior against him in his most primal state, only sat excited to see what this would look like. Leo grabbed her with confidence, and showed reverence of one who was used to women as a whole, but nervously excited for the specific woman in question. Amy was in his strong arms now, after he though he had almost lost her. Her soft exoticness, her Asian-ness. The fact that she was from China, sitting there as if airlifted for him, another ethnicity to add to his collection, another remote avenue of the world for him to dominate.

He inserted himself in with relish, and when he thrusted, he looked to the others like he were a professional. The phat of Amy’s body gave to his hips, thighs, and hands, which all seemed perfect for manhandling her. John could see in the moment the strange dynamic which threatened to change the whole balance of the world. His own inferiority against the man-animal magnetism in Leo’s body. The way that, no matter how distantly him and his mother originated from, her body only found full and equal use in this joint product of Africa and South America both.

The other boys, looking in, all noticed the same thing. When Leo’s cock pushed against the inside of Amy’s cheek, it did so with a violence which was also love, a domination which was pure eroticism. And when Leo mounted Amy from behind, they all surrendered to this deeply-ingrained erotic truth. They could all enjoy her as much as they wanted, but she was only done justice with one of them, and he was currently in that tent, groaning with his deep timbre, as he pounded her from behind.

When he was finished, he stood up, looking satisfied. He pulled out his cock, letting it gush, sticky and thick, all over Amy’s perfect, white ass.

Tom’s hand met John’s shoulder. John looked over. “If my new sibling is going to be half-chinese, John…”

John’s face grew red, remembering Evelyn’s positive pregnancy test, knowing now that Tom suspected the same thing he did.

“… then you’re going to have to do with a younger sibling who’s half-white. I’m not pulling out.”

John stared at Tom, not knowing what to say.

Tom then crawled in, letting those words stick in the air.

They flavored the moment strangely for John, as he watched Tom’s cock push slowly into his mother.

Tom thrusted, his hand under Amy’s kneecap, his thrusts forceful but awkward, haphazard, not out of any lack, but because it was always Tom’s nature to do things without any trace of the serious. Even this, which he did with absolute focus, he embodied that focus through a gyrating chaos. Amy’s body gave wonderfully to that chaos. All the boys watching felt their arousal growing again.

He also rubbed his cock against Amy’s face, doing so thoroughly, her oriental features giving to the pressure from his anglo-cock, before plunging himself inside her. He pushed against her inner cheek, but let his cock pop out a few times. Put it back in, then again forced it until it popped out, trying to make the sound. And then he mounted her from behind. He wore his trademark grin as he watched her flesh get pummelled beneath him. Everyone saw that grin, not seeing his eyes obscured in the tent’s upper shadow. But even just in the mouth, John could see the intent there, the focus, as if Tom hoped to will his seed to be as potent as possible.

Somehow, when Tom’s mouth lost its grin, and fell into a state of dissolution, John could tell Tom had hit his mark.

Tom fell on top of Amy. And after laying there, against her thick body, for a few moments, he kissed her on the back of her neck, a familiar friend to this version of her, though she had still yet to know it.

The last of the bunch to crawl in then was the man of the hour himself. John did so, feeling his friends at his back, seeing his mom come close, real and unavoidable before him. He had already felt her in the most intimate way, but the reality of what he was about to do just hit different now. The fact that he had helped make her available for all this, and that he would be witnessed, egged on in the act of violating her, his own origin into this world, played with a strange magic against the night. The hooting of owls and the chirping of crickets gave a strange sacred mysticism to the moment. Everything about this night, its fun, its perversions, its discovery, its depravity, all of it felt as natural as rain. More than natural, it felt as if it were a given, a falling into place, as if the exact point where Amy lay, the soil beneath the floor of the tent, had been some beckoning point, some silent cry which pulled John and his mother out of China to this very spot, in this very moment, for this very act.

John grabbed his mom’s thighs, positioned his cock before the mouth of her pussy. He felt his friend’s watching him from behind, he saw their firelit shadows before him on the tent wall. He felt the wet stickiness of his mom’s pussy, made rich with abuse.

He slowly inserted himself in. He saw the shadows on the wall move. He looked down at his mother, face to face. She looked back at him, her mouth open and her eyes shut. John began thrusting.

The others were silent with reverence. He thrust his mouth down, meeting Amy’s mouth, and kissing her, knowing all his friends had been inside that mouth, loving her face like he always had, but loving it even more now that it was sanctified by the rabid genitals of those closest to him.

His thrusts were deep and nuanced, and he felt the every inch of her inside pulling against the length of his shaft. He then pulled out, and the boys watched Amy give her son head. John’s eyes were shut, his being sitting snugly in the sense of pleasure itself, but when he opened them, he saw Tom looking at him, grinning. Tom shot him a wink.

John then flipped Amy over, doing so with all the care that any son has ever had for their mom. He mounted her from behind, feeling himself go in, feeling her ass fat, big and voluminous and endless, push against his hips and pelvic nook. Then he began to thrust. As he did, the four shadows were cast over him in silent approval.

When he was finished, he fell on top of her. Then he lay there, holding her for a moment, kissing her on her shoulder. Then, soon, Liam came into the tent, leaning down next to her as well, reaching out and holding her. Then Tom. Then Leo. Then Dylan.

They all held onto her, tugging her close, becoming one.

And they lay that way, in that nocturnal peace until their arousal, which had been rising the entire time, found its legs. They had been entertaining the thought, fueled by John and Tom cumming in her, of doing the same.

When that happened, they didn’t even have to communicate. They all knew.

Amy was lifted up between the storm of young energy. John assisted his friends in moving her into position. And then, like a cabal of jackals, they all struck.

“Fresh Chinese export,” Dylan said. “Sign, sealed, delivered for this Italian sausage to run through.”

Leo scooted his pelvis up to her face. “And this soul food.” He thrust his giant cock within.

“She’s gonna be sore in the morning,” Tom said, pushing his cock deep within her asshole.

John marvelled at it all, letting his own arousal build. Liam ran his cock against her head. Then when Leo pulled out to slap her on her face with his, Liam shoved his cock in her mouth. He facefucked her while Leo ran his testicles against her eyes.

Dylan got underneath her, forcing her to artificially to ride him, and Tom pulled his cock out and began eating her ass, burying his entire face in it, pulling it out and licking every inch his tongue could find. John came up behind. Tom saw his cock in his peripheral and backed out of the way, and soon John was in his mother’s ass.

He looked up to see Leo and Liam, hip-to-hip, both their cocks in Amy’s mouth. Dylan pulled out from beneath her, giving room for Tom to swoop in, and he moved toward her head. “Let’s see how many she can fit.” He got between Leo and Liam and thrust his cock into her mouth. Amy could fit at least three, her cheeks puffed out comically from the volume.

John watched as all three boys removed their pricks and then began performing ‘batting practice’ on her face. Their cocks bounced off her features softly, making little plapping noises each time, a cacophony of them against her features. Then they began rubbing their cocks, all at once, on her eyes, nose, cheeks, mouth, chin, and forehead. John spanked his mom’s giant ass with excitement, knowing he’d never be able to look into her face again and not see this moment. Half-remembered cocks would dance over her features whenever she looked at him, whether with love or disappointment, and John couldn’t help but be grateful for that.

“Her ancestors would be proud to see that,” Tom said sarcastically, looking up. Her ass bounced on his cock with the help of both his hands and John’s thrusts.

“How about this?” Dylan said, and he pulled his cock back, turned around, and extended his ass, pushing it into Amy’s face. He rubbed his ass up and down against her face, her features disappearing between his ass cheeks. Leo and Liam did the same soon, and John had to pull out and step back to keep from orgasm, the sight alone being too good.

Tom came next. As he did, Liam scooched beneath Amy and began fucking her from below.

“Bon appetit,” Tom said, before extending his ass into Amy’s face. John looked at Tom, seeing that trademark grin on his face as Tom soiled his mom in the most extreme way, his ass going up and down, up and down, over that beautiful visage. John wandered up there and the others cleared the way.

He regarded her face, sleepy and peaceful, for a moment. Then he said “kàn bàba” and he thrust his ass into her shut eyes and open mouth. Feeling her in between his ass cheeks, he gyrated his hips both up and down, and left and right, feeling his mom as he knew her by sight, become his mom as he knew her now by touch against his inner ass cheek.

Tom grabbed the back of her head and thrust it into John’s ass, just as Leo inserted his big black cock into her asshole.

Soon, Tom and John shared Amy’s mouth, with Leo fucking her pussy from below, and Liam fucking her ass from above. Tom slapped her ass cheek with his cock, waiting for Liam to finish. And when Liam did, he plunged himself within with a big cheesy grin.

The hours passed as they all passed over her body like little goblins in the night. The occasional jab, verbal or lightly physical, came whenever the impulse occurred to them. Not a single, solitary inch on Amy’s body was safe, all of it rubbed, sanctified even, by one of the cocks of the four boys, whether it was Tom’s playfulness, Dylan’s meanness, Leo’s dominance, Liam’s reverence, or John’s liberation, all of it, every part of her, became property of theirs. And while the night would eventually end, the hours crawling past like eternities, they felt as if, in some way, part of them would never leave this tent. Even as Amy did, as the stakes were pulled up and the fabric folded, part of them would exist here forever, and part of Amy, maybe the most important part, would exist here with them.

Amy was not only penetrated in all possible ways, but flipped and folded and dragged, and she would never be the wiser. As the boys reached their highest moment, Amy was thrust into the corner of the tent, the firelight finding her face. They all crowded around her, every cock, throbbing and eager, and soon each let off, one soon after the other, Liam’s, then Dylan’s, then Tom’s, then Leo’s, and last of all, and with the greatest fanfare, John’s himself.

Thick wads of goo dripped down the structure of her face, coating it, dripping down her body, crawling warm down her giant tits, some of it finding her hips and ass crack, even her calves and thighs.

And with that, the boys were spent. They fell to the tent floor, looking up to its ceiling as if it were stars, and they sat in the afterglow of what they had done.

The night wasn’t over. Amy, unbeknownst to herself, spent some time by the river, being held up by Dylan, as the others splashed her face and body with water. After that, she was made decent, and packed, like canned food, within her sleeping bag, as clean as she had ever been. The boys knew they had to sleep to cover their tracks, but no force was necessary. As soon as they shut their eyes, they were out.

John did so with the last thing in his sights being his mother’s peaceful face. He shut his eyes, and they would stay shut well into the next day.

A few hours later, Amy’s eyes opened.

John lay there, sleeping tightly, serene, looking awash in pleasant dreamings.

She got up, stretched, feeling a soreness through her every fiber. She smiled, knowing that the hike, however intense, would only do her good. The soreness was weakness leaving her body.

She got up and silently crawled past the boys, feeling she had one over them in their sleep. She came out to the dewey morning, the chirping birds and freshness, and she stretched again. She moved toward the river, seeing it glisten in the rising sun. And then, article by article, she removed her clothes, leaving them like breadcrumbs on her way to the waiting water. Soon she stepped in, one foot and then the other, and it crawled up her calves, her thighs, her hips, her ass, her stomach, her tits, her throat, and then her whole head.

She rose up, a smile on her face. Nothing but silence all around her. This is America, she thought, feeling it warmly within. America spoke back with chirping and the sound of fresh water. This is America. She thought. My home.