Chapter 16: Fellatio at the Bridge

The next morning, we slept in. Tess was of course, exhausted from her ordeal. Experienced in the arts of love even though she may be, it's a rare woman who can endure over 250 well-endowed African men performing coitus with her for almost 18 hours, and then jump up the next morning chipper as a chipmunk. That night, as we walked back to the hut accompanied by the throngs of the villagers attending us like the faithful, I watched bemused as several thick trails of wet semen drooled down the insides of both of her thighs, silver threads in the moonlight, the wet reflections of her participation in the ceremony. It dripped off her ankles into the dusty ground, leaving a trail that anyone could follow. Her upper body was fair covered in it as well, of course, simply through the course of events, as many of her paramours seemed intent on not just loading her vagina and uterus with their semen, but also spraying it liberally from her hips to her forehead. From certain vantage points, she looked a bit like a wax candle. The moonlight made her body shine with an almost effervescent glow, this walking embodiment of Eros. We held hands like school children, and upon reaching our little chateau, she tumbled onto the pile of animal skins acting as our mattress, arms and legs akimbo, let one long sigh burble from her lips, and fell fast asleep. I sat at the small table to write down the impressions of the day, collect our notes and observations, and tidy things up until the excitement of the day took over, and I too finally succumbed to that "sweet sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care", as I believe that Macbeth chappie said.

The next day dawned bright and clear, and some of the heat had dissipated, thankfully. Tess and I just lolled around the hut, and Mariana came by after a while to help us begin to work at cataloging all the data we'd been capturing for the last several days. We had hundreds of images, reams of paper data, and page after page of measurements. The task ahead of us, to collate, collapse, and then make some sense of the data, seemed daunting. But Tess and I had been at this for many years and I felt confident that we'd be able to rise to the occasion. And on that subject, it wasn't long before one of the Chief's cute little minions came to the hut and bade us accompany her to the palace d'or, so to speak. Her cute little breasts, just barely nubbins, stood out in stark contrast to Tess and Mariana's mature, full C- and D-cup bosoms. They didn't stand out a lot, mind you, but you know what I mean. Her womanhood was little more than a dark line that disappeared into a first- or second-year crop of pubic curls. She turned and walked saucily away, assuming the contrapuntal movement of her buttocks would compel us to follow like children after the Pied Piper.

We entered the Chief's cabana, finding him regally situated on the ceremonial throne, legs spread wide like two charcoal tree trunks, a cocoanut flask full of some beverage in one hand, and the other hand, fingers splayed widely, slowly moving the acquiescent head of another young female member of his tribe back and forth on the outer four or five inches of his penis. He smiled at us in good humour. Raising the hand with the coconut, he made a toasting motion, froze for a brief few seconds, and smiled broadly while he pumped several ounces of his own white milk into the tummy of young lady attached to his groin.

"Ahhhhhhhh, my good friends Roddy and Tess, welcome to my home once again ... unh ... unh ... unh ... oh, my goodnesses that is divine..." he beamed down at his young bollock-drainer

"Hallo Hallo old chiefy boy, looks like you have simply picked up where you left off yesterday. Don't your loins every dry up?" I queried jokingly.

"Haw haw haw!" he guffawed, "not bloody likely until well past ages. Balls fill up every half hour or so. Always have been that way. All mens in tribe that way. But that not why I call you here. First offs, many thanks and gradulations to dear Tess. She perform as bride of tribe like no other woman ever done. All my mens think she bestest white woman ever seen. Then again, most of my mens, she ONLY white woman they ever seen! Haw haw haw!"

"Well, thank you Chief, it was indeed my pleasure." she answered. "I don't know when I'll ever recover from such a vigorous bout of lovemaking but I did sincerely enjoy every minute of it. Of course, I'll be leaking down there for a week but that's a small price to pay." Even as she spoke I noticed a trail of semen slipping down the inside of her left leg and heading rapidly for her ankle.

"Yessir-in-deedy, much ball juice slip sliding away for many hours, maybes." he responded with a grin. "Nowadays, I have story to tell you and you just listens and believe, and when Chief done with tale, have challenge for you."

"We're rapt with attention, old boy,

"Well unwrap yourselves and sitty down here, and listen up. Yes, just sit right back and you'll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip that started from this tropic port aboard this tiny ship ... no, dammit, that's not it. Too much satellite TV last night ... harrumph ... now where was I?..." he wondered.

"Oh yes. Anyways, you know story of my tribe. We live alone, far from other tribes, many many years. Mens in tribe grow biggest dickies around somehow. We pass big dickies down to sons. Every years, dickies get biggers and biggers. One day many and many years ago, camel caravan come through village. Have lost way, looking for road to Zanzibar or somewhere silly. Man with big nose hide out with caravan, run from bad guys. Other man friend, he sing but not good like Fela. Not sure where going, but we give food and water, let rest here. We tribe not make war on other peoples never. We like only fucky-fucky. You understand so far?"

"Oh yes, kind sir, completely. Continue..." I waved a friendly hand.

"So caravan have fortune teller with. She have much fun telling mens fortunes. She tell mens they have big jobs, fancy houses, many wives, and win big lottery. Of course, none ever come true, because, -" and he kind of waved one big arm around, "-we live in jungle and nothing much happen here but every now and then hippo go nuts and stampede, know what I mean?"

We nodded. He nutted. The girl swallowed. He continued.

"But one thing gypsy girl say come true. She say many many years ago, tribe visited by peoples from far off lands, and one lady very very beautifuls. She was queen of all her peoples, they love her very much. But very sad thing happen, she get very sick while here and she die. But before die, she say that someday, another pretty lady like her come to tribe, become queen, and make tribe very happy for long long time. Crops all grow tall, water run all years long, no bad animals come to village. She say that woman must pass test, though. That prove she one true queen. She must make all mens thingys completely disappear in lovemaking."

Tess and I looked at each other quizzically. But the Chief wasn't done.

"Now you think that no problem. Tess do that many time yesterday and even before when mens use Tess botty. That true but not what ancient lady mean. She mean lady queen must make mens thingys go ALL the way down mouth. New queeny must swallow all mens thingys so far down neck that mens feel what she have for lunch. Swallow down all way then make mens release baby juice right into tummy." He paused for effect.

"I know Tess do this many times for porters earlier. I see Tess take many medium size dickies in mouth and put face into belly of man. I see Tess swallow when mans find pleasure in Tess mouth. But now I thinking maybe Tess be new queen. Maybe Tess first woman in many many years able to take all mens dickies right into tummy. What say you?"

Tess looked at me in wonder. "Well, goodness me, Chief, I don't know what to say. First, I really do appreciate your gesture, and your kindness in letting us stay here and observe your people and their ways. I'm sure our colleagues back in Britain will be astonished to learn of your culture. Second, I'm doubly grateful that I was able, in some small way, to provide a climactic release for so many of your fellow tribesmen, both in my rectum and my vagina. I do so love the feeling of so much lovely warm semen flowing into me."

"That said, I must admit that there is no way I can stay here and be your queen. I have responsibilities to my family and friends back in England, and much as I would like to be able to perform such queenly duties as you might see fit, I'm afraid that, even were I to pass the tests, I would not be able to remain here and be the Queen."

!Kung looked at us briefly for a moment, then broke into a broad grin. "Haw haw haw, no missy, no problems. You not need to stay here. Hell, I wish I not need to stay here. Bloody jungle hot as beastly hell and satellite dish only get four channels, one of them Univision. So sick of Sabado Grande, eh? Bloody hell. No, I only stay because people waits on me hands and foots like this-" he motioned to his midsection - "and father was chief, and his father before him, and his father before him. No, I HAVE to stay and make son with village womens to be chief after me. But QUEEN, no, no have to stay. Largely ceremonial. Peoples welcome you to tribe, give many gifts, then go away with happy thoughts. All in head. (Why he winked at me at this point is beyond me... ) We think lucky queen arrive, then go about business. You see, no white lady persons been visiting tribe for many many years. Except that dopey Angelina broad, all she want is cute kid to take home for paparazzi to pictures take. She no count. You bestest white woman visit tribe for many generations. But not sure you can pass test. How good you at taking large dickie all way down in to neck and beyond?"

Tess blushed. "Why, my lord, I don't know for sure. I've fellated hundreds of men, many of whom were quite substantial in length and girth. I have had some that I've not been able to completely swallow down, if that's what you mean. But I think in most cases, those men were much thicker around than usual, and it was the diameter, and not so much the length, that made it impossible." She looked at me coquettishly. "I performed my first act of complete fellatio at age 14. He was a friend of my father's, and since then I'm sure I've performed the act literally thousands of times. I can supress my gag reflex, through many hours of practice, and find that I am able, with the proper care and preparation, to completely immerse an erect male phallus deep into my throat, and provide the necessary stimulation to achieve a fulfilling ejaculation while doing so. I can control my breathing as well, to ensure that the shaft stays completely within my mouth and throat for up to several minutes at a time, by breathing through my nose in shallow breaths."

"I say old man, I can vouch for that. Many's a time when my Dearest Tess has buried her cute little button nose in some fellow's short and curlies, if you know what I mean, and left me enough time to go out and have a pipe-full of the aromatic best, and come back in plenty of time to see the lucky chappie squirt several times right in her neck. I don't know how she does it, but the lass is a virtual vacuum cleaner at times. Lord love a duck!" I confirmed for him.

"Hmmm." the chief thought, darkly. "Not sure yet. May need to have test." He leaned down to sort of shoo away the young sprite that had been attached via her lips to his penis. He pointed down to his African spear, wavering wetly in the light, throbbing with pent-up demand, a large drop of lubrication sliding from the huge opening at the end. "If Missy can make all of Chief's war club go down her neck in one try, Missy may be new Queen gypsy girl told us about." He looked at Teresa with a challenge in his eye.

I glanced over at her. Tess got that determined English Bulldog look in her eye, and when I'd seen it in the past, she proved a formidable force to reckon with. There was one time in Guadalajara that she had been challenged to fully seat a campesino's rather girthy and erect penis completely in her anal tract. I had my doubts. This peasant's frenulum and glans topped a shaft that resembled a large brown tree trunk, one that I wager was almost farther around than it was tall. Nevertheless, our Tess gritted her teeth, pulled her bottom cheeks apart with ferocious intensity, and positioning her cute pink rose over the top of the penis, she slowly squatted down, amazingly encompassing the penis as it popped through her sphincter. Her features turned red with the effort, and the mestizo did the same, but I watched in amazement as her colon expanded and enveloped the man's staff. In mere minutes, she managed to expand her lower intestines enough to accept this huge Mexican cactus, and she began swiftly moving up and down the seven or eight inches of length in her attempts to induce orgasm. Her efforts quickly bore fruit, the poor man grunted several times, issued an oath to his madre mia, and, grasping her hips, propelled his penis fully through her rectum and loosed several strong squirts of Spanish semen up into her in defeat. Tess squatted over the man for several moments, breathing deeply, and then rose up in triumph.

I saw that same gleam in her eye today. She grinned at me and moved her mandible back and forth and forwards and backwards a few times, fully loosening it in it's joints. She rotated her head as well, stretched her chin up and down as far as it would go, and then fell to her knees between the Chief's outstretched thighs.

"All the way down. One fell swoop, so to speak, yes?" she looked up at the ruler boldly.

"All the way down missy. No stopping. Nose must touch royal belly. Hold for count of ten."

She looked over at me, I nodded in agreement, and she bent to the task. Opening her mouth completely, she pushed her lips over the tip of his penis and through sheer force of will, moved her head down the first four or five inches, and then, swallowing when the tip of the chief's rod struck the back of her throat, she wormed her way down the rest of the hugely straining phallus. I watched the bulge in her neck indicate the depth of the muscle. Five, six, seven inches went down the hatch, and then some. Suddenly, she stopped. I looked closely and by Jove if she hadn't swallowed the man's organ to the root. Her lips nuzzled at his curly black pubic hairs.

She had engorged his entire weapon in one swoop. Tess held up one finger, then two, then three. Going through the entire count, she reached ten with ease. Suddenly I heard the chief groan thickly, and he put both huge ham-sized hands on the sides of Tess's skull, and I heard her gulp noisily. The chief was unable to forestall what sounded to be a fairly sticky and wet ejaculation of semen, which of course was now being forcefully poured right into Tess's tummy. He grunted four or five times, and Tess's neck bulged with the huge penis lodged in her esophagus. Then he seemed drained, for he slowly pulled her head up, sliding the wet and saliva-covered stalk of his organ out of the depths of her body.

Gasping and choking demurely, Tess finally let the head of his phallus slip from between her lips, and, coughing lightly, looked him right in the eye.

"So, Chief. Do I get the job or not?" she grinned, wiping daintily at the side of her mouth.

"Holy guacamole..." gasped the drained man. "That be damned if not one of the best squirtings I ever have. Let me see tip of my dickie, I think we see what you had for breakfast..."

He went on for several minutes about the seemingly magical ability of my blushing bride to fully swallow his erect penis. Finally he called over one of his major domos and uttered a few words in his lingo, waving his arms about and pointing to Tess. When he was finished, he turned back and addressed us.

"I know you must have be leavings us soonest. But I think one last ceremony maybe make big impression on you and leave you with fond memory of!Kung and tribe. I tell flunky to assemble biggest 150 mens in tribe here after sun go down behind baobab tree, and we see if you be blonde goddess queen Gypsy girl foresee many years past."

He continued, motioning for us to sit comfortably at his feet. "Have special throne for this magic ceremony. You sit back, recline in lawn chair like English use when watching cricket, worlds most boring game. Mens come up between legs, on either side, and two above head. You sucky sucky on middle leg of each man in front, they move around by timer of sand in bucket. When man spray white love juice, he drop out. Next mans come in, join circle. Big finish at end, me keep secret. But one word- ", he looked at me with a cocked eyebrow. "Make sure camera ready for big event. You never see anything like it, even American Gonzo Porn no good at this special event. Most them guys terrible shots, you know? Why love juice always shoot up over girls head onto floor behind?"

I professed to have no inside information on the apparent penchant for some male porn actors to deliver the goods well wide of the intended target, unless it was a previously-agreed upon tactic to diminish the amount of paste that the female part of the duo had to scrape off her features at the conclusion of the match.

The Chief laid out some additional details of the ceremony, Tess feverishly taking notes and adding to our body of knowledge of these people. I won't bore the reader with them all at this point, they are directed instead to our recently published papers with the British Anthropological Society, the Royal Geographic Society, The European Pan-African Friendship Society, the Japanese Bukkake Institute, The Brazilian Wax Foundation, and the American Academy of Pornographic Sciences. They contain the full details, as well as detailed drawings, video, and of course, 27 eight-by-ten color glossy photographs with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each was.

Long about lunch time, Tess and I strolled back to the hut we shared. She lay down to take a nap, and I decided to hit the undergrowth with my trusty .450 Nitro and see what trophy I might be able to bring back to mount on the old den wall. Hours of crafty stalking later, my feet gliding silently across the fetid ground, using every hunting skill I'd honed through years in the raucous jungle, sweltering savannah, blistering desert, and foggy Scottish gorse, I faced down the fearsome beast and, shouldering the powerful rifle, sent a single cartridge flying through the bush, striking the fellow squarely and ending his life. My success was the talk of the village for the next few days.

(The picture here really helps this joke - if you don't have the Illustrated Version of Sighs Matter, you really NEED to get it ... mailto:richhumus@gmail.com )

After lunch, Tess and I took a relaxing stroll through the village, and gave voice to our thoughts.

"You know honey," she began, "I can't fathom exactly how this ceremony will pan out, but it's very supportive of you to back me up with my endeavors. You have no idea how good it makes me feel to know that you are behind me in this, just like all those natives were the other day. It really means a lot."

"Pish tosh, old gal, it's nothing." I replied. "Merely the supportive hand of your loyal and loving betrothed here, doing what he can to further scientific knowledge, promote understanding between the races, and foster good will with our host. Plus, I know how the act of fellatio pleases you no end, and it gives me great pleasure to watch you perform your magic on these dusky fellows. Why, the way you enveloped the chief's whangee this morning was nothing short of miraculous, if you ask me. Some trick of legerdemain or a magician's sleight of hand, if I didn't know better."

She punched me in the arm playfully. "Roderick! You silly beast, you should know better than to accuse me of somehow shirking my duties. That penis entered my throat and was halfway down my esophagus before the old boy knew what hit him, I'll have you know. It's not so difficult if you know the trick, just like anything else." she said with an exasperated air.

"I fail to understand how people can so blithely accept, in fact, cheer, the physical talents and skill of a trained batsman or rugby player exhibiting breath-taking moves on the field, or one of those twelve year old Warsaw Pact gymnasts bending herself into a pretzel whilst doing the crossword puzzle out of the Sunday Times, but find it so hard to believe that a grown woman can accept a rigid tube of flesh 10 or 12 inches long into her neck and throat. I'll admit it's not something that any neophyte can accomplish, but with the proper training and practice, it is an easily performed skill that offers great pleasure to the recipient, and most times, equal happiness to the devotee. You know how the feeling of a large penis throbbing and pulsing in my mouth, releasing heavy, wet squirts of that rich, salty liquid of life into my tummy gives me climax after climax. Is it my fault that my sexual development has progressed far beyond the typical repressed female, and I'm able to fully enjoy my complete physical and mental prowess?" she lectured.

"Tut tut, my deep throated warbler, tut tut. Preaching to the choir here, I assure you. I concur wholeheartedly. If only more females on the planet were as self-assured, open, and accepting as you, the levels of stress and tension present in most of our males would drop precipitously, and we'd all be the better for it."

"You're darn tootin', you'd be better off. My mother taught me that, 'a man getting a daily blow job is a man content and happy at home', she often said. And don't forget, she and my father have been married for 62 years last Saint Swithin's Day. She once told me that she'd swallowed so much of Father's semen that it was lucky any of us girls were ever born. They had to schedule actual days when he would ejaculate in her uterus when they were trying for a baby. Once she was pregnant, she almost lived on the stuff..." Tess grinned at me.

We busied ourselves for the rest of the day with scientific work, tabulating our stay here in the village, and packing what materials we could for our leave-taking on the morrow. Gradually, the heat of the day wore on, and we both napped for a few hours in the late afternoon.

Woken by one of the Chief's minions, we made our way to the ceremonial spot pointed out to us by our guide. Tess was instructed to disrobe, and I once again marveled at her delicate, trim body. Her waist narrowed down to those delectable hips, hips that had widened just a bit in her maturity, but whose thighs still presented a delightful gap at the juncture of her legs. Her bosoms, full and mature, perfectly round and capped with those amazing nearly 1/2 inch long nipples had suckled thousands of lips, not to mention our baby daughter a decade ago. The long, graceful, almost swan-like neck, like an alabaster column, with her beautiful, mature visage topping it all. I felt so lucky to have captured her heart nearly two decades ago...

When we arrived at the spot for this final ceremonial act, there was a new piece of idolatry installed at the focus point. It was an odd shaped sort of lounge-chair with a sideways-S shaped sort of depression, and semi-circle cutouts at both sides near the top, and at the bottom and top as well. Halfway through, it splayed out with two shortish cantilevers, each of which was bent in half. It was about 5 feet long, and looked almost brand new, yet also ages old. It was carved from some sort of highly polished wood, with arcane carvings inset along the sides. I could scarcely fathom how it was to be used in this bacchanal until a few of the attendant girls motioned for Tess to sort of climb aboard the thing, and then it all fit together. Her torso rested on the main part, and her legs fit over the cantilever thingys, bent at the knee. It looked, if you ask me, supremely comfortable, as you could just sort of lay there and not be subject to the vagaries of gravity in either direction. Her head and neck were supported at the top, her shoulders fit into the wide part of the upper section, and her waist and hips were just up from where the leg sections branched off. A slight rise at that spot, almost like the pommel of a riding saddle, made her mound angle up just a bit and presented the opening to her vulva quite prominent.

Once she was comfortably ensconced in the apparatus, I could see its design had been the result of much thought. It was, for all intents and purposes, a love-making contraption that could be used for hours at a time. A person could approach her womanhood and penetrate easily, simply standing there and thrusting back and forth for as long as desired. The cutouts at her shoulders were strategically placed such that two more admirers could stand there and either submit to being manually manipulated by the reclining woman, or barring that, could easily do their own thing. The three roundabouts above her shoulders admitted three more paramours, who could alternatively take advantage of her oral skills, one from either side, and one from the top, although the latter man would have to be fairly well endowed to lay his shaft down her forehead, between her eyes, cross the bridge of her nose and then finally betwixt her lips. But I suppose it could be done. Mariana and I set up our still and motion picture cameras, and I silently thanked my foresight in making sure our low-light capability was paramount. I manned the video equipment, and Mariana was set to click away once the proceedings began in earnest. Or, in Tess, as the case may be.

As the sun set, the crowd around us grew in size, and low rhythmic chanting could be heard in the auditorium. Torches blazed at the perimeter, casting their flickering erotic glow across the playing field. I suppose I could explain in detail the intervening minutes during which the Chief, several notable tribal witch doctors and such, a few priests and holy men, and half a dozen of the older, more venerable women of the group passed by, muttered some sort of cryptic incantation and then sprinkled blessed tea leaves or something all over my Tess, but I wager you'd rather I get right to the sex, so I will.

It started with just one fellow, who approached the chair hefting an already quite erect phallus of more than moderate size whose blackness shone in the firelight. He placed the head of it up against the opening to Tess's midsection, and then, uttering an oath sounding oddly not unlike a chorus from "Showboat", he pushed the entirety of his length into Tess in one motion. Her grunt evinced a slight discomfort but soon her guttural moans signaled that she'd adjusted quickly to his girth and length, and was extracting much joy from the coupling. One thumb of her lover's rubbed back and forth along the little nubbin of joy that peeked out from its hood above her vulva, adding to her enjoyment of the coupling. The young man pistoned back and forth ever more vigourously as the moments went on, until he cried out in an excited vocalization, quickly dismounted from his position, and scrambled to Tess's left shoulder, where he offered his slickly moist shaft for her oral attention. Pulling her head to his groin, he buried the entirety of his shaft in her throat and noisily ejaculated, his grunts and groans in syncopated rhythm with the pulses of semen rocketing towards her grateful tummy.

A dozen more times this same scene was repeated, each time her dusky African warrior would ensconce himself in her welcoming vagina, thrust in a lively manner for several minutes whilst endevouring to bring Tess to a climax or two, and then removing himself and sending his several fluid ounces of DNA down her throat. Tess was keening in joy every few moments, obviously in her element, providing sexual release over and over to her well endowed Nubian friends. Gradually, her lower opening began oozing small amounts of what appeared to be spermatic fluid, as the simple number of penises being entertained within her womanhood ensured that some would deposit at least a small squirt of two of semen while enveloped within her. Her lips, mouth and lower chin were also beginning to show a froth of white fluid, and she had one small streak of semen bisecting her right eyebrow, no doubt from an over-anxious suitor who could not completely contain himself. Then the ceremony shifted into a higher gear.

As one man took his place between her thighs, two more approached her northern areas. Her feminine hands took the shafts and began applying the normal back and forth movement that we knew would, sooner or later, coax a few hundred million wriggling sperm cells to begin a journey that would end somewhere in or on the Land of Tess. After just a few moments, the man enjoying her natural sleeve withdrew and pulsed out several thick jets of creamy white semen that landed with audible splats, stretching up her body from her cute little belly button to the nape of her neck.