Marc Mixer: Sex For Everyone

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: