Birthday short stuffed

My mom got stuffed by my mistake of letting my bully use her bathroom

This is my story and it got rejected in literotica.
This story isnt real and all characters are above 18

Characters ID:

Ana: Pedro's wife. She's 50 years old, white, she is short, only 1,59, and of average build, weight of 60kg, she has a D cup that really shines on her body, she is brunette, she works as a beautician.

Jamal: Black bully, he is 24 years old, height of 1,92, weight of 90kg, muscular build

Tyrone: Black bully, he is 22 years old, height of 1,83, weight of 84

Marcus: Black bully, he is 23 years old, height of 1,74, weight of 67

Your dad's been gone for days on that out-of-town job, leaving just you and your mom to host your 20th birthday party. It was supposed to be low-key, just the whole class crammed into your suburban house, music thumping from the living room speakers, pizza boxes everywhere, and your mom, Ana, playing the perfect hostess earlier before crashing early. At 50, she was a short stack at 1.59 meters, her brunette hair tied in a loose bun, her chubby frame poured into a simple nightgown that hugged her wide hips and those impressive D-cup tits that strained the fabric even in sleep. She'd always been vocal about her views, 'Keep those thugs out of our neighborhood' she'd mutter about anyone who wasn't like her pale, proper self. Little did she know, you'd invited the whole class, including Jamal, Tyrone, and Marcus, your three black bullies who made your life hell at school with their size and swagger.

The downstairs bathroom was jammed so when Jamal cornered you in the kitchen, his big frame looming, you panicked. 'Yo, where's another spot to piss?' he demanded, eyes scanning the house like he owned it. Sweating, you blurted, 'Uh, my mom's room upstairs has one. She's asleep, but just be quick, no one's using it' He smirked, that predatory glint you knew too well, and nodded to Tyrone and Marcus lurking nearby. 'Cool, we'll handle it' You shrugged it off, heading back to the party, oblivious as they slipped upstairs, the door clicking shut behind them.

In her bedroom, Ana lay sprawled on her queen-sized bed, the nightgown hiked up from tossing in her sleep, exposing thick thighs and the edge of her cotton panties. The room smelled of her lavender lotion. Jamal eased the bathroom door open first, but instead of using it, he signaled the others. 'Jackpot' Tyrone whispered, spotting her curves. Marcus pulled out his phone, hitting record as they approached the bed like wolves.

Ana stirred slightly as Jamal sat on the edge, his large hand clamping over her mouth before she could yelp. Her eyes flew open, wide with confusion turning to terror. 'Mmmph!' she struggled, her chubby arms flailing, but Tyrone grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head with one meaty paw. Marcus yanked the nightgown up, bunching it over her belly, revealing her soft, white belly rolls and those full breasts heaving in a plain bra. 'What, get off me! Who are you?' she hissed when Jamal's hand slipped, her voice muffled by shock.

'Friends of your wimp son' Jamal growled, ripping her bra down. Her tits bounced free, heavy, pendulous orbs with dark pink areolas, nipples pebbling in the cool air despite her fury. 'Heard you talk shit about us. Time to pay up' She bucked, legs kicking, but Marcus wedged between them, shoving her panties aside to expose her clean pubic patch and plump pussy lips. 'No! Stop this. I'll scream!' But Tyrone stuffed his fingers in her mouth, making her gag, while Jamal squeezed her tits hard, twisting a nipple until she whimpered.

They didn't hesitate. Marcus dove in first, his tongue rasping over her clit, lapping at her folds as she squirmed. Her body betrayed her quick, juices slicking his chin even as tears streaked her face. 'Taste that? Racist slut's wet for black tongue' he taunted, fingers plunging into her cunt, stretching the velvety walls. Ana's hips jerked involuntarily, a muffled moan escaping around Tyrone's digits. Jamal freed his thick cock, nine inches of rigid ebony shaft, veins pulsing and slapped it across her tits, the weight making them jiggle. 'Suck it, old bitch. Or we wake the whole party with your screams'

Defeated for the moment, she parted her lips, and he thrust in, her cheeks hollowing as she choked on his length. Gags turned wet and sloppy, saliva dripping down her chin onto her chest. Tyrone kept filming, capturing every degrading second: her short legs spread wide, Marcus now fingering her asshole while eating her out, two digits scissoring her tight ring. She came suddenly, body arching off the bed, pussy clenching around nothing as shame flooded her.

Jamal pulled out, strings of spit connecting his cock to her swollen lips, and flipped her onto her stomach. Her chubby ass cheeks parted naturally, revealing her holes. 'Gonna wreck this white pussy' he said, rubbing his tip along her slit before slamming home. Ana bit the pillow, a cry escaping as he bottomed out, his balls slapping her clit. The bed creaked rhythmically, her tits smooshing against the sheets with each pound. Tyrone took her mouth next, face-fucking her from the side, his dreads swinging as he used her throat like a fleshlight.

Marcus wasn't idle. He lubed his cock with his spit and pushed into her ass, the tight pucker resisting before giving way with a pop. Double-stuffed, Ana's body trembled, holes stretched to their limits around their girths. 'Fuck, she's gripping like a vice' Marcus grunted, syncing his thrusts with Jamal's, making her rock between them. Cum built fast; Jamal flooded her pussy first, hot spurts painting her insides white, pulling out to let it dribble down her thighs. Tyrone followed, yanking her hair to aim at her face, ropes of semen splattering her cheeks and lips. Marcus finished deep in her ass, grinding until he softened, then withdrew to watch her hole wink and leak.

Jamal finds you alone at the kitchen refilling the drinks, his massive hand gripping your shoulder like a vice. 'Bathroom's prime real estate up there, kid'

He shoves his phone under your nose, thumbing play. The screen lights up with raw footage: your mom on her bed, nightgown torn open, those pale, soft thighs splayed as Marcus's dark fingers pry her pussy lips apart, his tongue buried in her slit. She thrashes, muffled cries of 'No, get your filthy hands off!' but Jamal's cock, thick, veined, and unrelenting plunges into her mouth, bulging her cheeks. The camera shakes as Tyrone captures her tits flopping free, nipples pinched red, while he strokes his own rigid shaft. Cut to her flipped over, ass up, Jamal's hips slamming forward, burying his length balls-deep in her cunt, her chubby cheeks rippling with each impact. Semen leaks from her stretched hole as they switch, Marcus claiming her ass next, grunting as he forces past the ring, her body quaking between them.

Your stomach drops. 'Turn that off! What the fuck did you do?' Jamal's grin is pure menace, pocketing the phone. 'What you set up, dumbass. Told us the room was free. Now, the party's still raging, keep it that way. Crank the music louder, block the stairs if anyone heads up. We ain't done with her yet. One peep, and this vid blasts to every guest's phone. Imagine your racist bitch mom trending as the white slut who squirts on black cock'

Nausea hits, but the threat locks you in. You nod, throat dry. Fingers trembling, you twist the volume knob on the stereo, hip-hop blasting so hard the windows rattle, drowning any potential screams. Sweat beads on your forehead as you play gatekeeper, intercepting curious classmates with excuses, your mind replaying the video's wet slaps and her choked gags.

Upstairs, the assault doesn't pause. Ana's bedframe groans under the onslaught, her body a plaything for their stamina. They've stripped her bare now, chubby belly heaving, brunette hair matted with sweat, those full breasts marked with bite marks. Jamal's back between her legs first, hoisting her short legs over his shoulders to drill deeper, his cock pistoning into her sopping pussy, stirring the fresh load he dumped earlier. 'Take it, you whore. Feel how your hole milks me?' She claws at the sheets, tears carving paths down her flushed face, but her hips buck up despite herself, clit grinding against his pubic bone until she shudders through another unwanted climax, walls fluttering around his girth.

Tyrone flips her onto all fours, her heavy tits swinging like pendulums as he mounts from behind, slamming into her ass with lube-slicked fury. The intrusion burns, her pucker clenching futilely around his invading shaft, but he doesn't relent, pulling her hair to arch her back. Marcus kneels in front, feeding her his cock again, the salty tang of pre-cum coating her tongue as she sucks reflexively to avoid choking. They rotate like clockwork. Jamal in her mouth, tasting her own juices on him; Tyrone stretching her pussy wide, fingers digging into her soft hips; Marcus rutting her ass until it gapes slightly on withdrawal. Cum flies in waves: ropes across her back, filling her throat until she swallows or sputters, painting her tits in sticky webs that drip onto the mattress.

Hours blur, the party's peak hits. Up there, Ana's resistance crumbles into exhaustion. Her protests slur into moans, body limp as they prop her up for a final round: all three circling, cocks in hand, jerking over her sprawled form. She lies there, short legs trembling, chubby frame glistening with sweat and semen, pussy and ass raw and leaking. Jamal erupts first, thick jets arcing onto her face, sealing her eyes shut. Tyrone aims for her breasts, coating the curves until they shine. Marcus unloads into her open mouth, forcing her to gargle before swallowing the rest.

'Tell anyone, and this vid goes viral, your son sees his racist mom creaming on black dick' Tyrone warned, waving the phone. Ana curled into a ball, sobbing quietly, body sore and marked with bruises on her hips and tits.

By the time the last guests trickle out, waving goodbyes and oblivious to the depravity. The bullies saunter downstairs, clothes straight, smirks intact. ''Good call on the bathroom, kid. Your mom's real welcoming' Jamal mutters, clapping your back. 'You keep quiet about us using her whenever, or everyone gets the show. We'll be back for more'.

Ana doesn't emerge that night, curled fetal in her soiled bed, body aching, mind fractured by the violation and her traitorous responses. The tape's their leverage now, binding you in silence as the house quiets, the secret festering.