For the Spanish Version of this story click here:
Spanish Version
The year was 1521. The once-mighty island city of Tenochtitlan, heart of the Aztec Empire, trembled under the relentless siege of Hernán Cortés and his army of Spanish conquistadors allied with thousands of Tlaxcalan warriors. Smoke rose from burning temples. The great causeways were littered with the dead. Smallpox ravaged the population. Yet in a hidden noble courtyard near the Templo Mayor, one final forbidden festival raged — a desperate ritual to appease the gods with pulque, the sacred fermented drink of the maguey.
Citlalli, a 39-year-old Aztec noblewoman and mother of two strong sons, had always been revered for her beauty. Full breasts barely contained by her embroidered huipil, wide fertile hips, and long black hair adorned with feathers and jade. Her husband had fallen weeks earlier defending the city. Now only her sons — 20-year-old warrior Itzcoatl and 19-year-old Cuauhtli — remained to protect her.
The pulque flowed freely that night. Normally reserved for priests and the elderly, the drink was passed around in excess as the people sought divine favor. Citlalli drank deeply, bowl after bowl, the sweet milky liquid burning down her throat and igniting fire in her veins.
“Madre,” Itzcoatl warned, his voice thick as he too felt the pulque’s power, “you have had too much…”
Citlalli laughed, her cheeks flushed, eyes glassy. “The gods demand sacrifice tonight. Let me offer everything.” Her body swayed, nipples hard against the thin fabric. The alcohol stripped away shame. She pulled her sons closer, her hands roaming over their muscular chests.
As the sounds of Spanish cannon and war cries echoed across the lake, a group of Cortés’ men — battle-hardened conquistadors who had slipped through the defenses seeking plunder and women — burst into the courtyard. Their leader, a scarred captain under Hernán Cortés himself, grinned at the sight of the beautiful, clearly intoxicated Aztec woman.
“Look what the gods have delivered,” he growled in broken Nahuatl.
Citlalli’s mind swam in pulque haze. Fear mixed with strange, forbidden excitement. “Take me…” she slurred, dropping to her knees. “Use this drunk Aztec whore while the city burns.”
What followed was pure debauchery.
Her sons, inflamed by pulque and the sight of their mother’s surrender, joined the conquistadors. Itzcoatl grabbed her hair and pushed his thick cock into her mouth while a Spanish soldier ripped away her huipil, exposing her heavy breasts. Cuauhtli lifted her skirt, finding her already dripping.
“¡Madre borracha!” one conquistador laughed as he slammed into her wet pussy from behind.
Citlalli moaned like an animal, drooling around her son’s cock. The gangbang turned savage. One after another, the men — her own sons and the rough Spaniards — took turns fucking her in every hole. They passed her around the courtyard like a pulque jug.
She rode Itzcoatl hard, her big ass bouncing, screaming “¡Más! ¡Fóllame más!” while a conquistador forced his cock down her throat. Another soldier pinched her nipples, calling her Cortés’ new Aztec whore.
The drunk mother came repeatedly, her body shaking, juices squirting as the taboo mix of family and enemy cocks destroyed her. “Cum inside me!” she begged in a slurred voice. “Fill this drunk cunt!”
Load after load flooded her — thick creampies from her sons mixing with Spanish seed. They flipped her onto all fours, gangbanging her relentlessly as distant fires lit the night sky. One soldier even pissed on her tits while another fucked her ass, the ultimate degradation during the fall of Tenochtitlan.
By dawn, Citlalli lay in a puddle of cum, pulque, and sweat — a broken, satisfied, thoroughly used mother. Her sons held her tenderly even as the city fell to Hernán Cortés on August 13, 1521. In the chaos of conquest, their forbidden drunk gangbang became a secret they would carry forever.
The fires of Tenochtitlan burned brighter as Hernán Cortés’ forces tightened their noose around the dying Aztec capital. Cannon fire thundered in the distance. But inside the hidden noble courtyard, the real conquest was happening on the sweat-soaked body of Citlalli.
Still dripping with the mixed cum of her sons and the Spanish soldiers, the 39-year-old Aztec mother took another deep drink from the pulque bowl. The milky alcohol ran down her chin onto her heavy, cum-glazed breasts. Her eyes were wild, completely lost in drunken lust.
“More…” she slurred in Nahuatl, then in broken Spanish she had picked up from the invaders. “I am not done. This drunk Aztec whore wants to sit on your faces.”
The men stared, cocks already hardening again. Her sons Itzcoatl and Cuauhtli looked at their mother with pure forbidden hunger.
Citlalli pushed the scarred Spanish captain onto his back on the stone floor. She stood over him, thick thighs glistening with cum, her hairy, well-fucked pussy swollen and leaking. Slowly, she lowered herself onto his face.
“¡Lame, conquistador!” she commanded, grinding her wet cunt hard against his mouth and nose. The captain groaned, his tongue thrusting deep inside her as she facesat him with full weight. Citlalli moaned loudly, rotating her hips, smothering him in her juices and the cum of the others.
“Sí… drink your own seed mixed with my Aztec pussy,” she laughed drunkenly.
Itzcoatl, her eldest son, couldn’t wait. He grabbed her hair and pulled her into a sloppy kiss while she continued riding the Spaniard’s face. Then Citlalli shifted, planting her big, round ass directly on her son’s face.
“Come, my brave warrior. Taste Mommy’s ass while the city falls.”
Itzcoatl dove in eagerly, his tongue licking her puckered hole as she smothered him. Her juices ran down his chin. Cuauhtli took his place at her front, sucking on her clit while his brother ate her ass. The two sons worked together, facesitting their own drunk mother in a taboo mother-son sandwich.
“¡Sí! ¡Fóllame con sus lenguas!” Citlalli cried, grinding harder. She was soaking their faces, her body trembling with another orgasm as she facesat them mercilessly.
The other conquistadors watched with lust-crazed eyes. One by one, she moved across them — sitting on each man’s face in turn. She especially enjoyed facesitting the youngest Spanish soldier, smothering him until his legs kicked, her thick ass cheeks completely covering his face while she laughed and drank more pulque.
“Drink deep, invaders! This is what the gods offer you before you burn our city!”
The gangbang grew even wilder. While facesitting one man, she would stroke or suck two others. At one point she had Itzcoatl lying down and lowered her dripping pussy onto his face again while a conquistador fucked her mouth and another pounded her cunt from behind.
She rode her son’s tongue like a wild animal, moaning “¡Más profundo, mi hijo! Eat Mommy’s drunk cunt!” as her hips bucked.
The facesitting became the main event. Citlalli made them line up. She sat on each face for long minutes, grinding, smothering, and demanding they clean her holes. Cum from earlier loads leaked onto their tongues as she used their faces for her pleasure.
“Whose face belongs to Mommy?” she slurred, facesitting Cuauhtli particularly hard, her ass cheeks clapping against his cheeks.
“Yours, Madre!” he gasped when she briefly lifted up.
The Spanish captain, eager to dominate the Aztec noblewoman, tried to flip her — but drunk Citlalli was too strong in her lust. She pushed him down and sat reverse facesitting on him, her big ass smothering his face while she sucked her sons’ cocks at the same time.
The night became a blur of facesitting, double penetration, and endless creampies. Citlalli came over and over, squirting on their faces as she rode them. The men took turns fucking her while she facesat others, turning the courtyard into a filthy, taboo orgy.
By the time the first light of dawn touched the burning temples, Citlalli lay exhausted but satisfied, her body covered in cum, her thighs shaking. She had facesat every man present — her own sons and the Spanish warriors of Hernán Cortés — multiple times.
She pulled both sons close, kissing them deeply, tasting herself on their lips.
“Even as Tenochtitlan falls… Mommy will always remember how you worshipped her drunk cunt and ass,” she whispered.
The conquistadors slipped away before more Aztec warriors could arrive, but the memory of the drunk Aztec mother’s facesitting gangbang would haunt them forever.
Epilogue Tease: In the ruins of the fallen empire, Citlalli’s belly would soon begin to swell again — the gods had accepted her ultimate, filthy sacrifice during the final days of the Aztec Empire.
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