Chapter 29: How Much Is Too Much, How Many Too Many?

She dresses in her little Luz personae when it suits her to descend and visit. When she cooks or more often reheats food brought from the galley, or if she uses the head, showers, or goes out to sit in the sun and breeze in the cockpit. Also when she wants to be cuddled on my lap. Rest of the time, most of the time, she’s very content to vegetate, relax on the converted dinette bed. Laying there, she looks deliciously like a big creme filled blond velour’s donut. Better yet is the reality, she’s a blond downy fuzzed pussy pillow I frequently fill with my own cream. I also take power naps, sitting ensconced, sunk into her deep between her plump labia. Most comfortable recliner I’ve ever sat in. I love the closeness, being near her, communing with her. Cradled in her big plush pussy is far greater comfort than being wrapped in her tiny arms can provide. Luz is happy, too. She feels loved for who she truly is. I’ll share why she’s so contented, in her own words.

Asuka (little Luz, now a big cunt) says, “ Best thing about my new lifestyle is?”

“As a 100% pure grade A blond cunt, nobody can possibly mistake me for a little twit of a girl! Not now, and never again.” I love her for who and what she is.

“Well? Gotta go, Sugar mom. I’m late for Sally’s feeding. I’ll bring you supper.”

The Texas deck passageway outside the door to my quarters is filling up. So many ladies waiting to see me, if this becomes regular, I’ll need to hire a receptionist, to screen for me.

“Go right in Sally. Disrobe, and I’ll be right with you.” I kiss he on the tip of her cute nose. She lightly pats my package with affectionate familiarity and enters.

Adjusting my rapidly swelling and shorts binding package, I study the crowd. They study my hands shifting my package to a better, more comfortable angle. They’re so intent, I decide to give them a thrill, and drop my trousers. No undies.

“Everyone who came for this, come greet Charger. Those with other business?”

Looking at my naked wrist, at the imaginary watch I don’t wear, because I’m not a slave to the clock (You who are, go punch out.), I furrow my brow and announce,

“Come back tomorrow. More urgent business demands my immediate attention.”

No one moved. Opening the door wide, I waddle in towards my desk, hobbled by my pants around my ankles. Fukumi and four unmasked, young marsupials file in behind me. The last girl, quietly closes my door, not needing a prompt to do so.

Fukumi is over by my bed, staring enraptured at naked Sally, beguiled by her own lust for the small girl.

“Sally? It’s pretty obvious Fukumi is drooling over you. Would you mind? After I attend these other ladies, I’ll see to you, if you will entertain Fukumi for the now.”

“Do you think I’m pretty?” Sally asks Fuhumi, using her littlest girl pleading voice. No adult can resist such manipulation. “I think you’re pretty too. I wish I had pretty eyes like yours. Would you like to kiss me? Here?” Sally points.

Fukumi merely nods, eyes devouring Sally’s completely disproportionate to her size, prominent pussy. Sally with a teasing slowness parts her legs. Fukumi succumbs to the temptation with an agonized sigh. Her mouth now devours Sally.

My audience s captivated by my own nudity, in particular with my towering fully engorged, angry red Charger. He’s angry, if he truly is, and it’s not all theatrics, because of rescheduling fucking Sally, and now Fukumi is smoking hot, obviously. He and I both know we will fuck both women assiduously ( with great care and perseverance) later. These pussies belong to us, by long association. Delaying the inevitable is irksome. He weeps a tear of frustration. The beautiful Japanese girls all gaze adoringly at him. Their exquisite Asian eyes not at all inscrutable now!

“We should introduce ourselves, and I shouldn’t be the only one naked. Please?”

Quickly divesting myself of all clothes, I relax, enjoying the prurient strip show. Casually I’m fisting my rambunctious Charger, with long languid, unhurried strokes, squeezing out pearls of authentic admiration and appreciation for beauty.

The girl I saw in Julie’s room, sitting on Fukumi’s lap, steps between my knees.

She wants to play with my cock. Guiding her hands, only at first, she soon grasps the idea, and is self-motivated to smear my pre-cum all over my cock on her own.

“What s your name, precious? Please explain what it means? My name is Phil.”

“I am named. It means a blossom from paradise, or flower from dreamland.”

“I am pleased to know someone with such an elegant name. Only YOU, yourself is more beautiful than your name Nara-chan. Slow down a little, please? Allow this sweet, ... what’s your name lovely child? Aika? A love song? Lovely, just lovely! Aika-chan wants to join with you in massaging my champion. That’s it, work in unison together. Synchronize. Ahh! Are you ladies available for hire as a team?”

A third girl, slighter, and a tad shorter than the others, tentatively reaches, then uncertain and dissuaded, withdraws her hands. Reaching and retreating, and more trying again, wants to fit in and can’t find a space in the rhythm to manage it.

Picking up the distressed and frustrated delicate looking but surprisingly firm body, I perch her on my thigh, with the desk behind her, as a backrest. She won’t lean against the desk, but it’s there, to prevent her from tumbling off my lap backwards. A security, without needing my arm about her. She leans in towards my prick. I can almost mentally count with her, as she gauges the right moment to insert herself into the orchestrated movement. She needs a cue.

Or, a different part to play. I have such a part in mind. Tucking her big feet on the seat between my legs, her long toes, (prehensile perhaps?) extend under my scrotum. Wiggling her toes, dances my balls on the tops of her feet. Generating smiles from both of us. What’s YOUR name, my cherished exquisite Doll?

Little dragon, Kaida, she reples. For my little dragon, Kaida-chan, I have a special way she can delight me. Maybe it’s interesting and fun. Will she try something?

Surreptitiously, I’ve been incrementally increasing the breadth of my glans, imperceptible to all, but me. I began with my whims first intrigue. The crown of my cock can NOW accommodate both tiny hands. After manually manipulating her hands in pleasing circles, and caressing my glan’s rim, Kaida-chan’s capable of masterly assuming control of the task. Responsibility for thorough knob polishing is hers. She’s pleased with such an imposing role. The burbling goo exuding from my pee-hole, she distributes to other hands polishing the shaft.

One hanger-back, needs enticing into my group. Without asking, I deduce her name. If one of four is named Himalaya, and the first three are not? Elementary.

Watson. No, her name isn’t Watson. Hermiones is. Never mind. Her name is...

“Ohayō Okāsan, Ohayō Gibo-san, Ohayō Yome-san. I apologize, I am uncertain which title is MOST apprpriate. All have some significance. Ohayō Himalaya.”

“Ohayou Gozaimasu. In what connection am I possibly any of these three to you?”

“Forgive my bluntness, Himalaya. I am involved with Asuka, your mother and with your daughter Carlita. Imagine how that complicates OUR relationship?”

“Your words and tone imply, you are a simple man, who prefers relationships be forthright and simply defined, yet ALL your actions, speak to the contrary.”

“Will stipulating your assessment is accurate, earn me latitude and tolerance?”

“I will go so far as to give you wise advice, if you’ll accept it.” I nod agreement.

“Be honest and admit to yourself, you’re a hedonist with an Oedipus complex.”

“Yes, I am. In the vernacular, roughly speaking, I’m a proud motherfucker.”

“Good. Honesty, I can work with. You think you’re proud of being a motherfucker. But you didn’t make yourself. Why do you suppose so many women want to mother you, take you into their beds and bodies, have made you a motherfucker?”

Good question. I just thought it was luck. I’m the luckiest motherfucker there is.

“Because you appeal to their mother’s incestuous instincts, you big baby!” Oh.

‘Now I, have the proper solution to OUR relationship problem. Want to hear it?”

Do I have a choice? Apparently not. Or even time to make one. SHE proceeds.

“I WILL BE your Mommy. FIRST, SUPREME among all your mommies. I will tie you to my apron strings with a tie not easily cut or ignored. An umbilical cord.”

“Okāsan? Mommy? I am not going to be able to function as I need to, on a leash.”

“Call me Mommy. I’m Westernized. The leash is on your heart, not your neck, Baby. You will impregnate me. We will have children together. That’s the umbilical cord that will bind us together. Our offspring’s. I haven’t been pregnant in over fifty years. It’s time I was. I’m approaching my one hundredth birthday, and I intend to bear your children before I’m a centenarian! At least three.” Gulp!

“LADIES? ENOUGH!” Himalaya clapped her hands to get their attention.

Shucking out of her skirt and cotton kids panties, and things, Himalaya, I can’t imagine this ‘Force’ of Feminine nature, calling her just Hime, marches resolutely over wearing only her Righteous Dignity. Her Rights! Her Domain. Her WILL!

When did the hand job change to fellatio? All three of the munchkin’s heads close together, their tongues swirling around my crown, and a couple still continue stroking me. I was so intent on Himalaya’s awesomeness, I wasn’t even aware of the other three, and what they are doing. They aren’t doing it any more. Now.

They have moved back, backed away. Even Kaida-chan hops off my lap, and joins the other two. Himalaya mounts, yeah, I said, mounts, like climbing on a tall horse? No. Mounts up on my lap like climbing a mountain, stands in a battle stance upon my thighs. Her genitals are level with my mouth, staring me in the face. Grabbing fist’s fulls of my hair, she stabilizes herself. I’m admiring the view. The insides of her thighs are streaked with oozes of wetness. I’ve got to lick this!