Renovation again

I practically don’t remember my father - he left us when I was not yet seven years old. So I lived my entire adult life with my mother. She belonged to that type of lonely women who did not want to give up on themselves and, apparently, secretly, somewhere very deep in their souls, were still waiting to meet some prince. Therefore, Maman was always on some kind of diet, visiting a fitness salon and dressing with a certain amount of frivolity - tight, short, revealing a lot of body - that was the basis of her wardrobe. Men liked her and loved to please them, often going too far in her desire to be attractive.

So, some

time ago she got silicone implants, becoming the owner of excellent size four breasts, which I must admit, looked great. Despite Maman's serious position - and she was an investigator in the local police department, she often behaved frivolously, committing acts more befitting a girl than a woman in her forties. I realized early on that my mother was not very smart, and by the time I graduated from school I had also come to terms with the idea that, sorry, she was somewhat weak in the front. This quality, however, was not caused by some innate depravity of the mother, but by her gullibility, loneliness and that very deeply hidden dream of a prince, which I have already mentioned. Men appeared in her life often, but did not stay long. She was, however, an excellent mother, and I was not particularly inclined to blame her or pry into her personal life.

Outside the city, my mother owned a dilapidated building called a dacha, but in its condition it was more like a barn. However, she was obsessed with the idea of ​​​​turning this wreck into a place for normal recreation. Funds for the implementation of this project began to be collected immediately after the installation of mother’s monumental breasts, and in May it was decided that the time had come. According to an advertisement in the newspaper, a brigade of Azerbaijani covens was found, led by a white-toothed, muscular man with eternal stubble named Asif. At that time I was about 19 years old...

Maman was not too fond of Caucasians, but Asif was the only one who, measuring Maman with an appraising gaze that did not miss either the dark red hair, or the luxurious neckline, or the skirt, so short that the elastic of the stockings was noticeable when landing, agreed to slightly reduce the price for the repair work. It was obvious to me from the very beginning that Asif, and his workers - four dark-skinned men of different ages - had very definite thoughts regarding my mother. I have no doubt that my mother understood this, but she was accustomed to male attention and was confident in her ability to keep the situation under control. Or she simply didn’t attach any importance to it.

Repair work lasted a little over a month and a half. About once every four or five days, my mother and I came to inspect our dacha. The workers invariably greeted Mother with enthusiasm, expressed by wide smiles and oily glances. Often they even exchanged some remarks in their own language, completely incomprehensible to her and me, of course, but the intonation left me with no doubt that they were talking about my mother and in the most obscene sense. But outwardly everything remained within the bounds of decency.

The work, however, was progressing well. By the beginning of July, our wreck began to look like human habitation and even quite comfortable. The time of reckoning was approaching. During one of our inspections, mother seized the moment and took the foreman aside. They talked for a long time about something in a low voice. At the same time, Asif smiled with white teeth, and mother hesitated, looked to the side and even seemed to blush slightly. It didn't take a rocket scientist to guess what was being discussed. The fact is that even taking into account the discount negotiated at the expense of my mother’s charms, the repairs should have cost us a pretty penny. In principle, my mother had the means to pay. But the withdrawal of such a large amount from the family budget, even if planned in advance, would force us to tighten our belts quite tightly for some time. Mom inevitably had to think that she should try to cut the price a little more. I thought about all this, feeling my ears turn purple.

That day we returned from the dacha as if nothing had happened. But already the next afternoon, my mother began to get ready somewhere, obviously not intending to invite me with her. Dressed up like a FIFA and citing some important matters, she kissed me on the nose and ran away, loudly clicking her heels, having previously made me promise not to be bored. I definitely wasn't going to be bored. I was absolutely sure that this was it and mother went to negotiate with Asif. I could only hope that the negotiations would take place in the same place as before - at our dacha, and not somewhere in a place unknown to me.

I was incredibly lucky. The action was not only in full swing, but also took place on an open veranda, separated from the garden only by carved wooden railings. Hiding in the dense thickets of blueberries, I could see everything literally in full view. The mother was lying on her stomach on the kitchen table, her hands gripping its edge. Her short, tight dress was pulled up to the waist, and her thong, carelessly pushed to the side, stretched like a dark line across her right buttock. Behind her stood the foreman of our repairmen and with short, sharp points, which made the table shake, he drove his dick into her. With each thrust, the mother let out a short, muffled moan. Even from a distance it was clear that the Caucasian was equipped with a rather large unit.

He ​​casually held mom’s hips with his dark paws and worked steadily and powerfully, like a pile driver. Suddenly the veranda door opened and one of the workers from the brigade, it seems, Rustam, entered. Apparently, he was not at all surprised by what was happening. Stretching out his lime-stained trousers as he walked, he moved to the table, which was being used completely for other purposes, and sat down in front of his mother’s mouth. A huge purple prick touched her brightly painted lips and maman fearfully opened her previously languidly closed eyes. She jerked her whole body, turning to the foreman.

— No... That’s not how we agreed,” she babbled.

Instead of answering, the foreman, without losing the rhythm of fucking, hit her hard on her milky-white ass a couple of times with his palm, leaving several clear scarlet prints on it. Apparently, it really hurt, because mom squealed loudly and howled in a completely girlish way. Rustam grabbed mother by the hair and pulled her head towards his organ. If there was any resistance, it was purely symbolic. I saw how the head of my mother, a police investigator, by the way, was slowly being placed on the impressively sized dick of an illegal migrant who could barely speak a few words in Russian. The spectacle is fantastic, without any discounts. Less than a second later, the worker’s thick shaft was already moving back and forth between his mother’s plump lips covered in scarlet lipstick. The Caucasians worked energetically with their hips, the mother hummed muffledly, sometimes making loud slurping and smacking sounds - Rustam did not stand on ceremony and simply fucked the mother in the mouth, not allowing her to show any initiative.

Lipstick was smeared, mother’s chin and even her cheeks were stained with saliva. She choked a couple of times - apparently the Caucasian had pushed it too deep into her throat. At the first such case, she twitched, trying to get rid of the piston in her mouth, but the fucker held her head tightly with both hands and the mother achieved nothing other than another portion of spanks on the buttocks received from the foreman. She learned this lesson quickly and subsequently meekly accepted the Azerbaijani dick into her mouth and, even starting to gag and cough, did not try to spit it out, but only changed the angle of her head and relaxed her throat more.

For the next couple of minutes, intercourse continued, accompanied only by the loud puffing and sniffling of the Azeris, and mommy’s mooing. From time to time the foreman would give her a generous slap on the ass, but not for bad behavior, but simply for his own pleasure. Mom shuddered every time and began to move between the dicks more energetically, and the men smiled joyfully. I didn’t know if my mom had ever been banged in two before, but she looked as if she had been doing something like this all her life. Saliva was dripping from his chin, and beads of sweat glistened on his elastic buttocks—the visits to the fitness salon were not in vain. Her fuckers were also wet, apparently trying their best.

Either the process made her feel really good, or, on the contrary, she was completely stunned by such an extreme, but when the three other workers burst onto the veranda, she did not react at all. Two of them immediately threw their cutoffs out of their pants and began to jerk off, and the third, an elderly man, battered by life, took out a phone from his breast pocket and, grinning widely, began filming the entire scene. It was obvious that my mother’s pleasures would not be limited to two men today and she would have to experience what a real sin of dumping was. Azer came closer with the phone, taking a close-up of my mother’s face with the organ walking between her lips. Maman glanced at him painfully, and then shook her head and sighed - as much as both could be done with a monstrous Muslim penis in her mouth.

My heart was jumping like a hare in my chest, and my penis was trying to tear my fly. Mommy, of course, felt sorry for her, and the video recording with which our workers were unclear what they were going to do was especially disturbing. But could I do anything against five healthy men? And she agreed to have sex with the foreman completely voluntarily. It was still unclear whether the other four should be considered a punishment or a bonus, but in my eyes my mother did not look like a rape victim. The optimal solution, it seemed to me, was to simply wait until the end of the process, and then act according to the circumstances - report it to the police or something else. After thinking a little more, I turned on my own mobile phone in video recording mode. It was, of course, a little far away for good photography, but if we contacted the police, my mother and I would have at least some proof of what happened.

Meanwhile, the Azerbaijani “documentary filmmaker” moved to the veranda railing, taking the most advantageous position for filming, and his two friends with jerked-off units approached the fucking trio. A short dialogue followed in Azerbaijani, at the end of which everyone laughed, and the foreman spanked the mother’s bottom - not like he had spanked her before, but rather approvingly. However, mom, apparently, had already developed something like a conditioned reflex - she began to more actively wave her butt at the foreman while at the same time trying to swallow Rustam’s dick deeper. She even grabbed the migrant worker's scrotum with her right hand, gently massaging his testicles. Such mother’s zeal caused a new burst of universal laughter.

- Whoa! — the foreman said cheerfully, again grabbing mom’s hips and stopping her movements.

With a loud smacking sound, he pulled out his circumcised dick, shiny with discharge, from his mother’s depths. At the same time, the mother, who released Rustam’s saliva-smeared unit from her mouth, let out a drawn-out chest groan.

— I like the Caucasian dick,” the foreman commented, patting his mother’s ass again. - Do you like it, Russian whore?

I don’t know what happened to my mother, but instead of being indignant at such inappropriate treatment, she, continuing to lie on the table, turned to the foreman and answered:

- Yes! I really like it!

These words, spoken in a low, hoarse voice, caused obvious animation. The workers huddled around Mom, poking their dicks in her face, and the foreman grinned wryly and spread Mother’s buttocks with two fingers, spitting deliciously between her buns. Grabbing the shaft of his penis with his other hand, he placed the head against my mother’s anus and pressed hard. Squealing, Maman straightened up, and in one leap she found herself a couple of steps away from the table and almost knocking over the “cameraman,” who continued to film with his mouth slightly open and occasionally licking his lips. Such agility, however, did not help her. The foreman, who turned out to be more agile, grabbed my mother by the waist in one movement.

- Whore! - he said at the same time, smiling dazzlingly. -Where are you going?

Continuing to hold maman by the body, with his free hand he grabbed the edge of the neckline and sharply pulled down. There was a crack of fabric - Mom's expensive dress was torn, a piece of fabric hung, revealing her expensive silicone tits. These works of art were shaped like regular, rounded cones and ended in the dark tips of large, erect nipples. The Caucasian's hand immediately grabbed one of them, squeezing and twisting with force. Maman moaned.

- Oooh, my dress! — her grief was absolutely genuine.

— Today you will save a lot more than it costs, right? “The foreman pushed my mother, and she fell on all fours, instinctively arching her back and sticking out her butt. The naked tits hung beautifully, even now they had not lost their shape - after all, the surgeons were great.

— Stop,” Mom cried from the floor, nevertheless, without trying to get up or change her position. - I changed my mind!

— Look,” the foreman was surprised. – The Russian whore changed her mind. And he should change his mind too, right?

And he pointed with his splayed fingers at his proudly protruding Azerbaijani dick. Apparently, this finally convinced Mommy that her claims were groundless.

— Don’t fuck me in the ass,” she asked sadly, but it was not so much this tone as the chosen “dirty” words, which Maman never usually used, that said that she had resigned herself to her fate. - I’ll do everything...

The foreman did not answer anything. Once again, his teeth flashed dazzlingly, he bent down and with a sharp jerk, from which mommy’s legs came off the floor for a couple of seconds, he pulled mommy’s thong off. I wanted to throw them aside with a careless, instinctive gesture, but after crumpling and sniffing, I hid them in my trouser pocket. From somewhere inside the house, the workers dragged relatively clean rags and spread them in a rectangle on the floor. One of the workers - the youngest of them (Fariz?), lay down on the fabric, casually stroking his already erect penis. Maman sat down on him, throwing her head back and closing her eyes, moaning softly, and began to slowly push herself onto this monster.

But the Caucasian guest was not in the mood for erotic performances. Grabbing Mom’s hips, he jerked her onto his dick. Mommy’s eyes opened wide, and I expected her to start screaming again, but she just groaned quietly and began to move herself, fucking this huge Azerbaijani dick. Two more workers approached her from the front, and slightly bending her forward and down, began to give her a mouthful. It was obviously not easy to cope with two dicks, and even jumping on a third one, but mom held on well. She alternately licked and sucked the Caucasian units, grabbing one in each hand, like a real porn star, and even managing to pay attention to the balls of her horsemen. The surroundings were again filled with groans and sniffles, interspersed with slurping, smacking and squelching sounds. Moreover, the last of these sounds was made by my mother’s pussy with every movement of the Azerbaijani organ in it.

While the happy lovers frolicked in this way, the foreman did not stand idle. He left the veranda for a while, returning with a large transparent bottle of lotion. Watching my mom’s amazing efforts with a condescending grin, he squeezed an impressive amount of oily mass into his palm and thoroughly lubricated his huge dick. After which it was time for the climax.

Squatting down, the brigadier placed his organ sticking out forward like the barrel of an artillery gun against his mother’s butt. Feeling the threat of invasion, Maman started to rush, but the other Azeris also realized what was happening and held her tightly - Fariz by the hips, and the other two by the arms and shoulders. There was nowhere to retreat, but with the heroism characteristic of Russian women, mommy fought for her ass like a lioness, desperately twisting her pelvis on Fariz’s dick, which obviously caused him to ejaculate prematurely. The poor fellow threw back his chin overgrown with black stubble, convulsively twitching his pelvis, opened his mouth and grabbed his mother’s hips more tightly with his paws, pulling her onto the erupting organ up to the balls.

— Oh!..” Mom said quietly, but didn’t have time to add anything. One of the Azeris standing in front of her, possessively grabbed the back of my mother’s head, again putting her mouth on his penis. The second one impatiently patted mommy’s cheek and ear with his head, also demanding attention. Having recovered from the orgasm, Fariz moved his pelvis again and promptly spanked his mother’s bottom, showing that, despite the eruption, he was ready to continue. Ему однако пришлось несколько притормозить, видимо подчиняясь бригадиру, который коротко бросил что-то по-азербайджански и снова подался вперед, неумолимо проталкивая в русский анус азербайджанскую залупу.

Мамуля замычала, сквозь забивший ее рот кавказский хуй и прогнула спину, отклячивая назад задницу. Сознательно это было сделано или нет, но тем самым она существенно облегчила достижение цели бригадира, и спустя несколько секунд его ствол уже вовсю шуровал меж мaмoчкиных ягодиц. Двигался он так же легко и энергично, как и когда трахал мамулю обычным способом. Соприкасаясь с упругим мaмoчкиным задом его бедра издавали звонкие хлопки. Постепенно вся куча сношающихся снова пришла в движение, подчиняясь задаваемому бригадиром ритму.

К этому времени напряжение в моих штанах достигло того, что я попросту расстегнул ширинку и вывалил член, время от времени его подрачивая. Угрызений совести я не испытывал. Мамуля была просто красавой с редкостным профессионализмом управляясь с четырьмя кавказскими хуями. Ее рыжие волосы растрепались, силиконовые сиськи прыгали как два баскетбольных мяча, а сама она походила на загнанную лошадь, но темпа тем не менее нисколько не снижала, наоборот, все пять сношающихся тел, казалось, с каждой секундой наращивают скорость движений. Их сопенье, чавканье, чмоканье, шлюпанье и сочные шлепки плоти о плоти, как я думал, не могла не слышать вся округа.

Тот, в чьем безраздельном распоряжении остался рот маман, не преминул этим воспользоваться и, ухватив ее голову двумя руками, принялся попросту ебать мамулю в глотку. Смотреть на это мне стало даже страшно. Лицо маман покраснело, изо рта потоком текли слюни, она кашляла и хрипела, но джигиту было откровенно наплевать. В конце концов от угрозы быть задушенной азербайджанским хуем мою легкомысленную мaмoчку спасло только то, что продолжалась вся эта экзекуция совсем недолго. Парень довольно быстро кончил и, освободив мамулин рот, оросил ее лицо внушительной порцией спермы. Белая густая жидкость заляпала мaмoчкин лоб, повисла на бровях и ресницах левого глаза, растеклась по щеке и парой струек пересекла губы и подбородок.

Азерский оператор, всё это время увлеченно бегавший вокруг с телефоном и не прекращавший съемку, тоже давным-давно извлек наружу свой обрезанный ствол, и до сих пор не пристроился к мамуле очевидно только по причине наличия у нее ограниченного числа дыр. Но теперь ситуация изменилась и он поспешил занять мaмoчкин рот. Не успевшая даже отереть сперму с лица маман покорно сомкнула губы на очередном обрезанном стволе. Левой рукой оператор продолжал держать свой сотовый, нацелив его на мамулю, а правую положил ей на затылок и энергично работал бедрами, загоняя свой хуй ей прямо в глотку. Не прошло и минуты, как он, крепко придерживая мaмaн рукой, всадил ей по самые яйца и пару раз крупно вздрогнул, изливаясь.

Я к тому времени тоже кончил, причем не один раз, кончая прямо под кустики, в которых прятался, и теперь застегнув штаны, наблюдал как собираются наши работнички. Они были явно в хорошем настроение, оживленно переговариваясь, пару раз кто-то из них коротко, но громко рассмеялся. Двое подошли к перилам веранды и курили, лениво оглядывая окрестности, на маму особого внимания никто не обращал. И, кажется, это ее несколько обидело. Поднявшись, она подобрала с пола рваное платье и с вызовом обратилась к бригадиру.

— Как я теперь должна идти? Оно совсем разорвано!

Асиф пожал плечами и что-то сказал своим. Пожилой, тот самый, что играл роль оператора, приволок откуда-то мужскую футболку и синие рабочие штаны. По маминому лицу было видно, что нелепость собственного вида в этих шмотках огорчает ее безумно, вероятно, даже гораздо больше, чем только что состоявшийся секс с пятью мужиками. Тем не менее, она попыталась сохранить реноме.

— Теперь мы в расчете? – поинтересовалась она у Асифа, по ее замыслу, слова должны были прозвучать высокомерно, против воли маман в них отчетливо слышалась скрытое напряжение и беспокойство.

Асиф снова пожал плечами.

— За ремонт – да, красавица. – ослепительно блеснули зубы. – Но на тебе мы тоже неплохо поработали, это же чего-нибудь да стоит, а?