Chapter 1

Just masturbating, that's all. And dreaming, that's all. Picturing herself moving her warm lips over Larry's enormous penis head, taking it into her wet, saliva-filled mouth. She saw herself letting her tongue flicker around the smooth and almost tasteless crown of the pulsing organ. Larry had always liked that. All the men in her life had. She thought for a split second about Marvin and her teenage years. Marvin had been the first one to introduce her to the delicious sucking game. Tasteless but delicious? How could that be? But it was, and she decided not to think anymore of Marvin. Larry, yes, Larry. And he'd be home any minute now ... after so long. And she remembered the first night Larry and she had been together, before they married. That seemed so long ago. And what he said: "Hmmm: You have a hairy pussy, Gertie."

"Do you like hairy twats, Larry?" she had answered with a question.

Now she heard the key in the front door. It was him! Him!

Yes! Yes! Larry was home again, back from his latest trip, home, hot, ready, and his tongue would be-delving inside her juicing network in a matter of seconds. God! how she missed that man!

In Gert's mind, images fascinating but not really to the point:

The resonant boom-boom-boom of the native drums throb through the night. A massive fire blazes hot in the center of the camp. The girl lashed to the stake writhes, and sweat streams from the heat blasting in her face, ravaging her body. Brown men beat the rawhide skins stretched taut across the hollow wood frame. Boom-boom-boom. A dancing, naked young man masturbates in the midst of women and children-silent, tense ... Boom, boom, boom.

"Picture it, feel it, listen to it. Come."

Larry was back from another trip. Gert watched him starting to unpack. "Come? How can I when you're unpacking? You're supposed to be un-dressing! I don't want to hear about your trip, naked men or no, I want to feel it."

Wordlessly and quietly, Larry opened the suitcase and tossed a huge limp rag-type doll to his wife. It landed in the middle of her naked outstretched legs, black face down, one of the legs catching in the curls of her tawny, tangled pubic hair.

"A doll? Larry, I thought you went to Africa. This looks like an ordinary American doll-black or no."

Larry nodded and took the doll from her lap, two of his fingers lightly brushing her flat tummy.

"Picked this up at the airport. At Addis Ababa. They couldn't give me one of theirs-against tribal customs or something-but this'll do, I think."

The suitcase, now closed, crashed to the floor and the doll was sent to a resting place on the dresser across the bedroom. With a minimum of motion Larry was beside her on the bed, stripped. "It was a very successful trip this time, very successful. I've got to schedule another one there again soon. They've got a couple other interesting things I didn't have time to fully-"

"Hurry, for God's sake! You know I can never wait for you to come home. What souvenirs! Ah!"

His left hand was working-ring and pinky fingers moving up into her rear and the thumb and index finger slowly and deeply stroking her vagina. The middle finger lightly covered the distance between the others. He was mounting one breast and cupping the other as she lay, already open-mouthed and writhing under his torso. "Yes, this is the one lesson you're going to love-once you get used to the method."

"Meth-?" His right hand gently stopped her. question as he jammed his fingers to the knuckles into her. He shifted, covering her body with his, then laying atop her as still as stone. Still his right hand was on her mouth, which opened wide as she suddenly felt hard pulsating cock gently rubbing against her clitoris.

She reached down to grasp it at the root. She loved feeling it stroke her like that from the clit to the crack between her soft ass in long, liquid, tortuous strokes, pausing just on top of the cunt, as though trying to decide whether or not to enter. His left hand, removed agonizingly from where its fingers had been lodged, under her now, heavily massaging her buttocks. She was so sensitized by his merest touch and the suggestions he could whisper in her ear when he wanted that she could come almost on contact. It had taken him a long time to get her to that point of conditioning. Crazy conditioning, mad wild things. They didn't even have to be undressed. On a city street or in a shop, for example, he could rub her shoulder blade and whisper things like how would you like me to come right here on your shoulder and rub all those good, sweet, sticky juices into your bones while you think of my hot cock dripping down your back, resting on your neck. Or as he patted her butt murmuring about how he was going to ram his fat cock up her ass without grease-without the preliminary priming-so it would tear her insides out and make her feel like she had to take a monumental shit. He had done this to every area of her body until she was to the point where the simplest touch and the slightest word would make her own juices start to flow.

They were flowing now as she heard him whisper, "How would you like me to make you come without even touching you-without you touching yourself?"

She stared at him, incredulous, thinking briefly that he had picked up a tropical fever instead of a new technique, but the eager glint of his eyes told her that he was serious-and anxious to start. With a final licking of her body, starting with her toes and with a lengthy pause on the midsection, his tongue darted between her legs and up into her body while his cock pierced her open mouth. He ended by stroking her neck with his prick, sitting astride her pendulous breasts while she gently fingered his upended asshole. She eyed its excited puckering. Strange. She even adored his asshole. And then he was gone from her and back on the bed holding the tall black life-like, big-breasted, tight-assed doll in front of his huge maleness. He sat it on his extended prick.

"The Muktari men make their women come without a touch." In front of the whole village-the sign of attaining manhood. The test of it, in fact. If the guy can't take a woman that he's not bedded before and make her come with this,"-he held up the doll-" just this, then he is banished from the tribe."

Very interesting, she thought, but let's fuck or something. God, am I hot and wanting it. But she knew better than to say anything. Always before the new thine was practiced Larry had to explain as much of the background as he knew. It was part of the price she had to pay. And so far it had always been worth it.

So far. This time she was doubtful.

"Just the doll," she said. "It seems incredible. What if the girl fakes-" And she wondered momentarily if she would have to fake it to satisfy Larry. It would be the first time ever, but everything had to have a first time.

"Fake it? From what I saw, baby, there were no fakes. Although you think there might be, just to get out of the uncomfortable position."

"Position? Not like the thing you brought back from Algeria?"

"Well, no, nothing like that-a lot different from that, I would say. But I'm not sure how I'll accomplish this. I've given it a lot of thought, though-that eight-hour flight gave me lots of-time to refine and adapt some of the ideas to our own life." He rubbed his jaw reflectively.

"Larry, I'm not going to like this one, I can tell."

"You'll love it-you always do."

"I love you, Larry, but-"

He had been up and searching through his closet. He turned and grinned. "That's my girl." He sat back on the bed, facing her. "Now let me fill you in a little more. I'll warm you up a bit while I do, although it's strictly taboo. Literally taboo." He took the belts that he had gotten from the closet and passed one snakily down her body, giving it a snapping flick at her breasts. She loved that. It was like when he was biting her with sharp nibbling grasps of her skin. It hurt, yes, a little at first, but she knew the pleasure-pain was his way of showing her who was master. Her master spoke:

"All the village elders gather around the traditional campfire and the about-to-be-man parades bare-assed in front of them holding his dong out for inspection. Sometimes a man or woman takes an occasional suck or pokes a finger up his ass or jiggles his balls as though inspecting him for the slave market. After a lot of shouting and laughing and stuff, the initiate does this ceremonial dance, see." ' I, she thought, as his fingers danced wildly on her taut skin, working his way up and down her body, beating a tattoo of drum rhythm that she could feel being matched inside by the pulsing, beating center of her being. Her cunt danced, too, waiting for the thrust of something, anything. His fingers skipped past the opening and flurried down the insides of her thighs and the tension mounted in her. Hardly paying attention to what he was saying she reached down for his cock which had wilted somewhat and which she wanted to spark back into life. His quick, darting fingers stopped her short of her goal and he admonished her with an "I want it that way, real soft. It's part of it all."

He pushed her over onto her stomach and ran one of the belts between her legs, two of his fingers lingering outside and then barely within her ass, working her gently, slowly, to get the juices flowing again. Through the haze that her mind was becoming she heard him say that when the dance is over, the boy again parades before the village elders until his manhood is completely limp and then they bring out the stake and the girl. With rawhide thongs-"Forgot to buy some, but the belts ought to work"-they lash the girl to the stake away from too much heat of the fire but still in its direct light, and the music starts up again. A big ceremony is made of bringing out the doll-a life-size, very life-like one-and the chief hands it to the man while holding his other hand up for silence to the now-tense group. "And then, without touching her-the live one, I mean-he makes her come. Like this."

Giving one final finger thrust to her quivering, lubricating ass-button, he stood up over her and pulled the belt from between her legs. He turned her over onto her back again and spread-eagled her body across the bed. As he strapped the arms and legs to the frame he explained to her that part of the pleasure for the girl was in not being able to move. He produced a long rope that they had used before from under the bed, already tied to one side, and flung it across her midriff and then secured it tightly at the other side. The rope would burn if she moved.

"You're at the stake, Gert, near the fire. Okay? The crowd is quiet, and I'm your boy-man. Come for me, Gert, come for me."

He stood in front of her and she watched him hold the doll before his face. She noticed then that he or the manufacturer (she suspected it had been Larry) had made finger-size holes where a girl's pleasure holes should be. She felt a bit ridiculous and, in fact, not sexually aroused anymore at all. She didn't want to put a damper on Larry's enthusiasm but this was one thing she was sure wasn't going to work at all. And looking at him and his soft dangling prick she wasn't so sure of his enthusiasm either. Maybe he had made all this up because the trip hadn't netted anything. She often felt he had done that, but even if he had she in turn had to admit the results were always very gratifying.

Until now, she reminded herself.

She took her point of focus away from Larry's shriveled penis and looked up at his face. Lord, he was actually kissing the doll like it was a live thing. Putting his tongue in her life-like ears, he held the pliant doll against him, grasping it firmly by the buttocks. His tongue ran down her neck into the hollow of her shoulder blades and she saw his saliva dripping onto and down the arm. He reached one hand up and massaged the blade. "Wait until you feel my jism there," he whispered. "Hotly it spews down your arms and onto your fingers, sticky, sweet jism in your hands, your hands that will hold my cock and feel its pulsing hardness to the warmth of your touch."

And suddenly, she-Gert-began to feel him. Impossible, since he was nowhere near her, but His hands had worked down to those of the doll's-hers?-now and brought one of its hands around to his now-growing, expanding prick. Holding it there, he massaged himself with it while inserting a finger in the rear of the doll, impaling Gert herself with that far-away finger as he ground it in and out, in and out. Involuntarily, her sphincters contracted and she could feel her vaginal muscles quiver with the sensation. She imagined Larry's massive fingers inside her, her hand on his cock, fingers scissoring the root of that cock and cupping the full, taut, tight-skinned balls. She 'could feel Larry's knuckles against her buttocks as his index finger rammed into her to its full length. She wanted to tear her eyes away from Larry and the doll but couldn't, could only hear herself praying that he would go deeper, deeper into her so that the finger would come out of her mouth where she was sure it was reaching. She could feel her anal juices flowing, a feeling that never failed to surprise her. Dripping onto her ass, onto the bed, the pool of juices flowing, a feeling that never failed to surprise her. Dripping onto her ass, onto the bed, the poo of juices that she would be lying in, that was hers. She loved feeling the wetness beneath her, squirming in it and remembering his rubbing it into her. Into her pores, her skin, under her armpits Juices mixed, hot, sticky, sweet-tasting.

And now he was holding the doll facing her, his one arm stretched across the doll's-her-breasts and massaging the nipple of the left one. Gert felt the familiar tingling sensation as the nipples of her own breasts grew taut, awaiting the nipping bites she knew were going to-had to-come. Her body responded to the movement of his hands on the clitoral area of the doll, the sweeping downward stroke with the tip of his index finger continuing with the flat of his hand resting on the clit while his fingers penetrated her wetness. She began to squirm, feeling the coarse biting of the rope across her torso. She didn't care, she had to move, to meet the fingers, to make them go deeper and deeper into her, to make them touch the walls of her insides. She felt the palm grinding slowly on her mound, and ground with it; sensing his hot cock dripping onto her stomach, she moaned and waited for the other hand to caress her inner thighs. The inner thighs that were screaming with each touch....

And where was the tongue now-the tongue that burned inside her on her skin, in her ears, around her teeth and flicked across and hugged her own tongue? God, it was there, now grazing her body while hands grasped her buttocks slowly, toyingly, teasing with fingers poised at the opening. Tensing, she waited for the penetration, tightening her muscles, which only made it harder for the entry but she couldn't help it. She loved that entry but was scared each time, scared it would hurt.

The finger was in her now, twisting, turning, going deeper and deeper into her, ramming home. Shove harder, harder, she wanted to scream and waited for the thrust. She was straining now against the rope, pulling at the straps that held her down.

Her breasts ached to be touched, to feel the circular hard motion of pressing hands. Looking at Larry through glazed eyes she saw his now fully erect cock passing between the legs of the doll, his hands up the asshole. With the thrust of his cock she could feel herself begin to come, that familiar slow-mounting unbearable tingling tension that started from deep inside her, threatening to burst out. She tensed her vaginal muscles, knowing that the tension would both heighten and delay the orgasm. She was ready now but, as always, afraid she would lose it if it came too fast. She wanted fingers on her, all over her, her fingers, Larry's, anyone's. And she wanted a cock, poised at her entrance, then slowly making its way into her, centimeter by centimeter, until just the tip was in. A pause while her cunt lips licked and squeezed it, familiarized themselves with the fat red hotness of it. Slowly she could feel the root begin to grow in her, filling her insides until she thought she couldn't breathe, pressing against her on all sides, squeezing out her eyeballs and brains, coming out her mouth. Coming in her mouth and her cunt at the same time.

And she knew that was what was happening now. Larry's tool, his throbbing, pulsing tool, was on the doll's cheeks now, grazing her face, dripping on the lips, waiting for her tongue to dart out to lick up the jism that he knew she loved. Running her tongue over her numbed lips she could taste the sweet stickiness. Drawing it inside of her she felt his cock come with it, thrusting its way down into her throat. She sucked hard on the tip, running her tongue down its length, using her tongue to push it against the roof of her mouth, then with her mouth sitting on it she began the slow rhythmical sucking she had learned was the best way.

In my mouth, come in my mouth, her mind shouted while her cheeks swelled to receive the hot spewing come that she wanted so badly. She could feel his balls on her chin and she wanted them inside her too. She wanted to feel them drain inside her, to feel the molten liquid run down her throat, to savor it in her mouth, to cover his prick with it. With the taste and the feel of him still inside her mouth she now felt his mouth on her cunt, his tongue knifing deep into her, she sat that moment savoring then the fingers in her rear.

Three cocks? Yes, she had three cocks in her and her body was smothered with the weight and heat of a writhing, pleasure-taking animal biting at her, licking her, grinding heaving thrusting deeper and deeper until she could feel her body screaming as it reached up to meet the force head on, convulsively shuddering, her mind straining to cope with the cataclysmic turmoil building broiling boom-booming in her loins with the swirling-feeling taking over, the crest riding her and not she riding it as she surrenders to the all-encompassing folding-in tremors growing until the dam breaks and she takes over, she riding the crest now, peaking surfing until The crashing explosion was one which unified mind and body.

Moaning softly, writhing-riding, the tidal waves wash over her as she slowly, reluctantly awaits the final tremor to pass through her innards. Then comes the serenity and peace to bathe her in the euphoric glow which defined all that was good in the universe.

She opened her eyes. Larry stood over her, the doll unseen, gone, forgotten as he stood astride her body. He grinned and she saw his hand was moving, stroking his own cock. Of course, she thought, he would need She quickened again, surprised to feel the excitement rising within her. Grasping his legs, she tried to pull him down to her but he laughed and, leaning down toward her face, gave one. final stroke to his purple-veined, pulsing penis, giving up the hot, creamy, white come that she had been sure had been discharged eons ago just now inside her. It bathed her face as he buried his head in her breasts. Reaching up, his fingers smoothed the milkiness onto her eyelids and down her cheeks, into her mouth. As she felt his hardness on her stomach, he pulled away and rested his weight on his extended arms, his cock barely touching her navel.

He laughed. "It was good. You did fine, Gert, just fine."