An insistently soft moist sensation slowly pulls me from my slumber. As I gain consciousness, I vaguely feel something deliciously moist and warm surrounding my cockhead. I was lying naked on my belly in the middle of the very large bed which seemed to cover most of the floor space. The bed is octagonal which is the style for Isheni bedrooms and is designed to accommodate up to twenty or more people depending on scale. I clutch a pillow in my muscled arms, my broad back rising and falling, my muscular legs splayed behind me. In our Isheni culture, we have no concept of night clothes. Those are artefacts of a prior primitive era.

Goddess that felt good ... whatever it was softly suckles the head of my penis which begins to stiffen flat against the bedsheets. I can feel a soft downdraft on my balls and the length of my naked penis which snakes out from between my thighs.

I cannot sense anyone else around me and even in my half conscious state, I realise I am alone in this vast bed with one other person as my sole companion. I idly wonder who it is, but lie perfectly still, letting the mouth gently tease the head of my penis which lies flat and heavy in the other’s mouth.

The mouth leaves my slowly stiffening schlong and I feel hot wet breath on the skin surface of my testicles which lie completely shorn and naked like plump pillows fallen to either side of my resting shaft. Each of my balls is gently taken into the warm wet mouth in turn and softly suckled. Long soft hair tickles the back of my thighs as the heated wet sensations leave my bathed ballbag and a tongue tip traces a warm wet path up the completely bare convex mound of my naked taint across the bulge of the buried root of my penis. Soft hands slowly part my hairy buttcheeks, but the tongue does not encounter any hair in that humid value.

In our Isheni law and custom, all male-bodied humans must keep their genitals and anal area completely naked, save for a small cultivated patch of pubic hair confined to our pubic mounds. Everywhere else on our bodies we can have hair, but our organs of pleasure and generation and (of course) our mancunts must remain bare to the ‘gaze’ of the Goddess at all times, and her maidservants. So I have hair everywhere on my body, except ‘down there’ as they would say in an archaic world which no longer exists.

“Could it be Hanson, one of my lads with long hair?”, my befuddled mind, half-awake, wonders. “No”, comes the answer as soft ripe tits press against the back of my thighs, as the tongue- tip finally arrives at its destination, the bulging starfish knot of my anus. I breath out, my notch exhaling slightly as I do so. The tongue-tip digs in that open opportunity, wiggles a little to widen the sliver of crack it has a tongue-hold in, and pressing slowly and firmly downwards begins to corkscrew slowly into my body in the tenderest entrance to its secrets.

Genetic engineering has given Isheni body the ability to lengthen our tongues, so the tongue does not stop just inside the portal as it eases slowly inwards, prising my man-cunt open.

“It’s either Jenny, Clara, or Riley”, my wakening mind realises, “that speed and style is theirs”. But Jenny, one of my pod partners, has a page boy cut, not at all like the lustrous locks blanketing the back of my thighs. “So, it can’t be her”, I realise. The blade of the tongue has by now slithered inside me to come to a rest against my gland where it begins to gently lave back and forth in patient strokes.

My penis hardens to its full length, pressing almost painfully against the bed. I just lie there splayed, lashed with the pleasure inside me as I feel her hands tenderly coating my penis with a substance, whose sultry odour I would recognise anywhere. My nostrils twitch as I sniffed the sensual odour of my pod daughter, Riley’s, pussy juices. At that point I know my cock is going up my pod daughter’s cunt.

“So, what do you mean by ‘pod daughter’?”, you may ask. Let me step out of this vignette to explain. Riley is a teenage daughter born to one of my female-bodied partners. But I did not sire her. Neither did any of our male-bodied pod partners. It is unlawful and a criminal offence in Isheni culture to sire a child with any of your female-bodied pod partners to whom you are married. Instead Riley was sired by a group of anonymous male-bodied humans whose semen competed to fertilise her biological mother’s egg. Notwithstanding this, biological connection is not given any weight in our culture as all the womyn partners in our pod are simultaneously Riley’s pod mums, including her biological mother. And all of the male partners are her pod fathers (simultaneously). I have no biological connection with Riley at all, as a result of this kinship structure. Now where were we...