Even though she was a perfectly capable 28-year-old woman, Honor Blakely greatly appreciated the small group of young boys in the neighborhood who so eagerly wanted to help with any chores around her house or yard.
She was a sleek and extremely pretty brunette, trim in all the right places, fully rounded in others, and she'd first thought her good looks might've had something to do with it. With their offer of assistance. Throughout her life, men or boys had always offered to help her, in many ways, and she was more than used to it.
“The garage could use a good cleaning,” she suggested that bright Saturday morning, leading the five well-groomed youngsters in through the side door. “Let's get some light in here.”
She hit the button for the double-wide garage door, all of them watching as it moved up on its track. She'd earlier left her car, a Buick SUV, outside in the wide driveway, anticipating their arrival that morning.
“Here you go, boys. I want to thank you again-”
“That's not necessary,” the oldest boy, a handsome 12-year-old named Del, said with a big smile. “We're glad to help.”
The other four boys, smiling and nodding as well, all seemed about nine or ten years old. They were a good-looking lot, she couldn't help thinking, all in brand name jeans and tee-shirts. They also all wore expensive tennis shoes without socks.
She thought preppy was the word that best described them. At least, that's what they called it in her day, not all that long ago, she liked to think. Yet she wasn't sure if anyone even still used that term these days.
“Really, Mrs. Blakely, it's our duty,” Del added.
They belonged to the Helper Scouts, they'd told her two weeks earlier, a Good-Samaritan-type group for young boys whose assistance in the neighborhood (especially for the elderly or the infirm) had apparently proven invaluable.
Honor had already heard stories of the good they were doing.
And the pay they required was strictly a mere token, a single dollar and a treat (a brownie, cookies or a healthy snack was suggested) for each boy. This was for as much assistance as any neighbor, elderly or otherwise, might require.
“Okay,” she said to Del. “But please call me Honor. Like I mentioned before, I'm no longer married…”
She'd recently gone through a terrible divorce, and was without children, so being on her own in such a large house had become a real burden. She'd lately been considering just putting it on the market and moving into a condo or an apartment, anything smaller, until she got her life back in order.
But with the sudden and unexpected arrival of the Helper Scouts, she'd been lately rethinking the entire idea of moving. It really was a great suburban neighborhood, after all. And she'd miss it a lot.
“I'm sorry it's such a mess in here,” Honor told the boys, looking around. “But with me working full time during the week, I'm afraid I've let a few things go. This is one of them.”
They were standing in her attached two-and-a-half car garage, the built-in shelves along the far walls nearly empty because much of what belonged up there was down on the gray cement floor. There were half-full paint cans, tools, old boxes of appliances and electrical parts, and even an ancient-looking IBM typewriter, all of it seemingly abandoned.
The young boys all looked to her.
“No problem…Honor,” the boy named Del said. “This shouldn't take too long.”
She gave him a quick smile.
“Just come into the kitchen when you're done,” she told him, then looked to all of them. “For your treat.”
“Sure.”
And into the kitchen she went.
Honor took the $5 to pay them out of her purse and set it on the counter. Then she smiled, heading into the master bedroom, knowing exactly the treat she was going to give them.
Less than fifteen minutes later, the chore of returning the various items to the built-in shelves a particularly simple one, Del and the four other young boys pushed open the door to the kitchen and trooped on in.
“That was awfully quick,” Honor smiled. “I hope you'll take more time than that in here with me.”
She was wearing black crotchless panties and a black half-bra, the push-up kind that directly presented her large firm breasts to whoever was looking at them, while allowing both of her dark pink nipples (poking out stiffly!) to be clearly seen.
Other than that, she was naked.
All five young boys eagerly took in the sights:
Honor's slender long legs, her perfectly flat tummy, her firmly rounded buttocks and the gentle bulge of her pubic mound, so smoothly waxed that the wetly gaping slit of her cunt (easily seen within the black lacy opening of the crotchless panties) was all the more lusciously prominent.
And inviting.
“There's your $5 on the counter,” she told them. “And you're all staring directly at your treat, I see.”
Yes, they were, she noted with satisfaction.
Del and the four younger boys could not look away from her slickened pussy, in fact, once their eyes dropped down to it from her semi-bare breasts. And the sight of it, her wonderful grown-up cunt, displayed as such in her obscene little show-off panties, instantly gave each youngster a growing bulge in the front of his jeans.
“Your pussy's the best treat of all,” Del told her, with a genuine smile. This wasn't their first time together, after all. “Mrs. Raffelson's peanut butter cookies aren't bad, but you've got her beat all out.”
“So my cunt's even better?” she wanted to hear it said. “Better than peanut butter cookies?”
“In every way,” young Will threw in, a skinny 10-year-old. He already was holding himself through his jeans, squeezing himself, really, clearly anticipating what was coming next. “Even though I love cookies.”
Honor gave the slender boy a bemused look.
“Cookies are nice,” she allowed, motioning for all four of them to follow her into the first floor master bedroom. “But for young boys like yourselves, I believe pussy will always be better.”
“Yes!” a tall 10-year-old named Tom punched the air with a delighted laugh. “I knew this would be a great day.”
And as all the boys trailed into the master bedroom behind her, they began kicking off their shoes and pulling off their clothes. They'd been to Honor's home before, in her bedroom, even, helping her, as it were, and understood exactly what was required.
“Mrs. Edmonds baked us a cake,” one of the two youngest boys, 9-year-old Frank, informed her. “That was good, too.”
“Cake's always nice,” Honor nodded. “But it's still not pussy.”
She just wanted to make certain the boys all understood how truly special her treat for them was, how personal, even, her treat one that could be remembered and appreciated for many years to come.
When she reached her huge bed, she turned around to face them and discovered they were all five entirely naked, a haphazard line of tee-shirts, jeans, tennis shoes and underwear strewn on the floor behind them.
“That's true,” the other youngest boy, Taylor, a healthy-looking 3rd-grader, nodded as he agreed with her that it wasn't pussy. “But it was a great cake.”
His young cock was standing straight up, Honor saw, the swollen tip of it so smoothly swollen that she swallowed at the sight of it. She had a sudden urge to simply drop to her knees and suck it into her mouth.
But instead she simply smiled at Taylor, then reached down for his erection.
Her slim fingers closed around its hardness, the skinny shaft of it jerking, and then the boy smiled nervously up at her in response. Though all five of the young boys had helped her before, in fact had helped the living hell out of her, this was still relatively new to them all. And it still made them extremely anxious.
The sex thing.
“I do know how to bake,” she told Taylor. “Would you rather I made you boys a cake next time?”
But before the startled boy could answer, Del moved quickly beside the young woman, one of his hands suddenly inside the back of her black lace crotchless panties. He gently squeezed one cheek of Honor's firm bare ass, which got a quick look back out of her.
“Is that what you'd like instead?” she asked Del, biting at her full lower lip, which suddenly seemed to be trembling. “Cookies?”
“Forget the baked goods,” he told her, then turned to the younger boy. “Taylor, not another word.”
To which the naked 9-year-old nodded guiltily.
Even at his young age, he knew he'd almost screwed it up for all of them. He pretended to suddenly be fascinated with one of the small gilt-framed pictures of a smiling teenage Honor, sitting on her dresser.
“Is that you in high school?” he asked, which got him a nasty look from Del. “You were even amazingly beautiful back then…”
“Why, thank you, Taylor,” she said. “That's so sweet of you to say.”
Del rolled his eyes behind Honor, but gave the boy an almost imperceptible nod of approval. The kid had put them back on the right track, that slippery track leading straight into Honor's fabulous cunt.
“So, Del…” she started. “What about brownies? Those are nice.”
“No cookies or cakes or brownies, please,” Del told her with a nervous laugh.
She fixed him with a knowing look.
“None?” she asked. “Don't you like sweets?”
All five boys suddenly got quiet, nervously looking to each other and clearly uncertain whether to just shut up or to actually say it out loud for her, the absolute truth to all of them, now and forever: pussy won out over cookies or cake or brownies.
Always.
But it was also and always a challenge for them to respond correctly to any questions put to them by females, an obviously unpredictable gender that easily tripped them up at every turn.
Because none of them were that familiar with women, even 12-year-old Del, especially with older women, and double especially with gorgeous older women who were standing mostly naked in front of them, willing to screw all five of them.
Again.
But at least they did recognize a very good thing when they saw it and they didn't want to mess it up.
Their chances, that is. They weren't idiots, after all.
“I like sweets, but we'd rather screw you,” Del slowly and carefully told her. “You're a better treat than brownies. Or cake or cookies. You're much sweeter. Especially your sweet little pussy. We all love it so damn much…”
And as the beautiful Honor nodded her approval with a sudden bright smile, to their everlasting gasping relief, her slender hand finally dropped down easily and took Del's hard cock.
She held it gently, then took Taylor's stiff young penis back into her other hand.
“Then you can feel free to start,” Honor told him, and then to all of them, “Screwing me, that is.”
As the oldest boy, Del's cock was the largest, no more rigidly erect than the others but almost twice as big around. The last time they'd assisted Honor, the Helper Scouts, he'd fucked her both first and last, a very quick learner.
He'd also been the first of the five boys to lick her wet pussy.
And shown a genuine talent for it, she thought, once she got him to actually get down there and just do it. After that, led by a happy and eager example, the other boys had all done it too, taking turns licking into her slippery pink cunt as if it was made of ice cream.
In actual fact, she'd actually put chocolate syrup all over her cunt, to get them started, so it really was like licking ice cream. She was creative like that.
Honor was a young woman with a very strong sex drive and, that first time they'd shown up at her door offering to give her a helping hand, it hadn't taken her long to realize she was meeting five boys who could help her.
Sexually so.
She'd actually found herself getting wet the moment she'd opened her front door and discovered them standing on her front porch.
Five handsome young Helper Scouts.
With her stressful divorce and her long working hours, she didn't get out all that much anymore, even though she knew she desperately needed a very good boinking. Or five very good boinkings.
Preferably as often as possible.
And that very morning, the two-hours of energetic attention they all gave her, helping her they called it, fucking her front and back and up and down in every position and possible combination the oversexed divorcee' could come up with, was nothing short of spectacular.
And they were helping, she let them know. Helping her have orgasms. Which helped her relax. Which helped her think and plan, after her string of orgasms, that is.
It was all just so… thorough, she decided was the word that best fit, the all around fucking they all so enthusiastically gave her.
“I love boys your age,” Honor told them, on her hands and knees with little Will's slender cock in her mouth. It was so hard it was almost vibrating with the throbbing rigidity of it. “You can fuck so many times!”
Yes, they could.
“I'm already going to come,” Will suddenly gasped.
And his rigid penis, twitching and jerking in Honor's slippery mouth, erupted like a small fountain, spurt after spurt of his very young cum filling her mouth with his warm liquid. She swallowed it gladly, savoring the sweeter taste of it compared to the more mature men she normally put out for.
Which was why she was divorced, all that putting out she'd done.
Basically, she was unable to control herself sexually whenever the merest attention was paid to her. Of course, her new husband only discovered that fact when he came home early one afternoon and caught her with the plumber.
And it wasn't even their plumber, just a fairly good-looking plumbing guy who'd been parked in the neighborhood in his plumbing truck, trying to finish his sandwich on his lunch break.
Honor had spotted him and that was that.
“I'm coming, too,” Del announced behind her. “Wow, your butt's just sucking it out of me!”
He'd been busy screwing Honor in her hot KY-lubed asshole until she was groaning with the pleasure of it, his throbbing cock easily going all the way into her anus, the way she loved it.
His hands tightened on her bare hips as he ejaculated, a river of boy-cum shooting into the hot depths of her rectum as he came.
“Del, I can feel you coming in my butt!” Honor told him, on the verge of another orgasm. “Keep fucking me-I'm going to come again, too!”
She'd had two climaxes already, both of them the squirming and panting and groaning-type, as both her quivering pussy and her lube-slick anus clamped shut on Tom and Taylor's cocks, the two boys who'd been eagerly fucking her front and back at the same time, while she sucked off little Frank.
She was a girl who loved a good sandwich. Especially with a little extra mayo down her throat.
“Ohhh, God!” she cried out, her bare tits rocking back and forth with her sudden motion as she worked her hips back into Del's crotch. “Fuck my asshole deeper! Harder! Fuck me, fuck me more!”
And he did, even thought he'd already ejaculated, giving the young woman all the pleasure he could and knowing it was required, especially if he expected to ever stick his twitchy cock up her hot asshole again.
He was only twelve but he'd already learned a great deal about women, especially oversexed women, from beautiful Honor.
Their nonstop sexual antics lasted all morning then, until the five young boys at last had to rush home for lunch. They all quickly pulled on their clothes and headed out the door.
“Tomorrow's Sunday,” she reminded Del, slipping her hand into the back of his jeans and giving his young bare ass a quick squeeze just before he left. “I'll be home all day, so I might need some more help with some cleaning.”
He gave her a long look, a smile playing across his lips.
“Really?” he asked her. But then, when he just got a little shrug from her in return, he said, “If you need us, we'll all be here.”
“That's great,” she said.
And as soon as the five preteen boys trotted off toward their homes, Honor headed back out to her garage.
She hit the button to close the garage door, then began to haul everything down off the shelves again and leave it all on the gray cement floor. It was tiring work, and took her almost a solid hour, but she felt it was well worth it.
And she was getting better and faster at it, creating a fast and easily cleaned-up mess in her garage.
After all, it was her fourth time emptying those damn shelves in two weeks.