Welcome to Tabootopia

"Hello, Marcella!" says Trudy Ho. She leans in for a hug, wraps her arm around Marcella's toned mid-section. "Good lord, you're so firm!"

"Thank you, thank you, you too kind." She clasps her hands by her bellybutton and bows.

"Now, Marcella, I got to know, how come you decided to come on the show?"

"For the fans." Raises arms to the audience. They cheer, she blows kisses. "They give me so much love. They support me so long, so well. I love my fans, I love people of Tabootopia, and it time, it time to give back. I want to show love and give it to you!" Cheers. "I not scared, I thrilled to be here. I can't wait."

"All right, so let's pick our lucky audience member." Crowd whoops and chants along with Trudy, "Start. The. Spinning!" Numbers and letters, A10, B4, C9, flash across a wall-mounted screen. The sequence steadily slows down. C8, E3, D12, G8, E17, H8 and... G6 flashes on the screen. A drumbeat followed by a wandering stage light hitting the middle of the audience. A man stands.

"You are our winner!"

He raises his arms, hops up and down. With an affixed grin, he nudges past the crowd, receives slaps on his back and high-fives to his sweaty palms.

Trudy gives him a high-five. "Welcome! What's your name and where you're from?"

"Hello, everyone," he says breathlessly. "My name is Doug, from New Babylon by way of Adelaide."

"A New Baba Ozzie, right on! What is it you do?"

"I'm a --" I guess his profession before he says it -- "A teacher at Rachel Hunter Middle School." If dictionaries had pictures accompanying their descriptions, Doug would be alongside the word 'Teacher.' He is an excitable bespectacled white male in his mid-forties, his hair and beard grey and curly, wearing a tweed jumper with beige pants -- erection already present. He pushes his glasses up, eyeing Marcella's rose-coloured nipples.

"And meet your wonderful partner," Trudy says.

Doug takes big shaky strides, shakes hands with Marcella, large and pasty paw wrapped around delicate olive-coloured digits, and moves in for a kiss to her cheek, an oddly cordial greeting considering the circumstances. Doug's forehead is wet and red.

"And meet her son, Mario!"

Coming through the stage doors, chubby hairless Mario, clad only in tight blue briefs, his bare feet smacking against the wood floor. A beaming Mario extends his hand, Doug takes it, crouches down. Mario gives his mother's defiler two wet kisses on his hairy cheeks.

"Lovely to meet you," Doug says while holding Mario's hand. Doug gently pats Mario's smooth moisturized shoulder.

Trudy crouches, places a hand on Mario's back, places the mic in his face. "Hi Mario -- good lord your skin is soft, wowza! Well anyway, I want to know, how do you feel about Doug doing your mom?"

Mario places his arm around Trudy's slim shoulders, leans into the skinny mic. "Doug is a good man, a very good gentleman. He a teacher, good man. good. This important to me. good man treats my mother well. Very well. Yes."

Trudy rises. "Well, enough with the dilly-dally-ho. Let's --" crowd says it with her, "get to the show!" Trudy raises her fist. "All right. So, here's the rules: there are none. Get to it, Doug!"

Crowd cheers. Doug steps hesitantly towards Marcella. Marcella flicks her hair, smiles shyly. Doug places a hand on her hip, mouths 'hello,' and lays a tentative kiss to her lips. Doug steps closer, places his chest on Marcella's. He kisses her again, this time with more bite. Then again, his hands rising to her breasts. Then another kiss, taking a firm feel of her boobs. Marcela steps back, smirks, grabs the back of Doug's head and forces her tongue down his throat. Mario jumps onto the leather seat and starts jacking...

***

Hold On, I'm Coming... Any Second Now (2^nd overtime!)

The show has been going on for 2 hours and 30 minutes. Laying across the bed, feet on floor, ass up, Marcella. Licking in and around her buttocks, hands firmly planted on her toned shiny rear, Doug, nude, potbellied, hairy chest. Seated in the corner of the bedroom set, Mario, son of Marcella. The sweaty teen has taken his blue briefs off and placed them around his cock, blowing his loads into the cotton fabric.

"Oh jeez-us." Watching from the sidelines, Trudy Ho. She's stripped down to her orange thong, her body smooth and sleek, her breasts small, ass flat and tight. "Rugged Dougie has left Spicy Marcella with a creamy load of jizz in multiple holes! He started with his pecker in the hooch, transitioned to the mouth, pivoted back to missionary, stayed on top for a good long while, just kissing and cuddling. Now after rubbing her butt and seeing how red she got from his big manly hands, he's workin' on exploring her deepest parts. Mario, what's your view on Doug?"

Long skinny mic pointed at the shiny boy's mouth. "Amazing. Incredible. Mr Doug is the man who should be making love to my mother. My mother, yes, she deserves this kind of-of-of passionate lovemaking sex. Oh yes. It makes me so happy to see her made love to like this, treated so well and loved so deeply. Look at him, look at Mr Doug. He's not afraid. He is showing love in a physical form. He is displaying the depths of his love. I, as her son, just feel so warm and good and happy to see my mother in such a loved state. I'm happy, yes, as noted by how much of my semen I have put in these underpants. Yes. I'm happy."

Panting Marcela grips the bedsheet, her long nails ripping the fabric. She lifts a hand, signals her lover to stop. She turns, lies flat on her back, opens her thick powerful legs, licks her fingers and slaps her vagina, once, twice, thrice.

"Pon un niño en mí! I want you to put a child in me!" she says as the audience gasps. "I want you to put a child in me right now!"

Doug grabs Marcella's toned thighs, leans in, and eases himself inside. "Yes-yes-yes! I'm going to spunk it all in. I'm putting it all inside you!"

Trudy Ho jumps with joy. "Guys, people!" she says to the crowd, her nipples sore and red. "We're switching formats! This episode of 'I'm Coming' is over. Stay in your seats for what could be the first in a multi-part series: We're Trying!"

***

I Didn't Expect This! -- Sexual Tales TV

"I came there to sell hoovers, not to get my head chopped off!"

Covertly filmed footage from a dimly lit hotel room. Between a closet and bed, a suited white man -- shaky jowls, stubble -- his lips making repeated contact with his companion, an Arab woman in a head-to-toe hijab, her face the only part uncovered. The man -- who speaks with a general English accent, neither posh nor unintelligible -- narrates while the action unfolds.

"It was lust at first sight," he says as he grabs and rips her headscarf off, her jet-black hair flowing free. She has thick eyebrows, piercing brown eyes, olive skin, super exotic, gorgeous, and she's pushing her man closer towards her, his hands lifting to her breasts, her hands behind his head, her inch-long red fingernails running through his damp grey hair.

"Steve, oh Steve," she mutters under her breath, her thick husky voice heavily accented.

"My Mira, she drew the breath out of me with the kisses." The two disengage to remove their culturally appropriate outfits. "I didn't even think of the risk I took when going to introduce myself to her." The buttons of Steve's dress shirt clatter to the floor. He yanks his trousers down. "Let me tell you, when you introduce yourself to a lady in Qatar, you don't do it with a kiss on the cheek." Mira bends down, grabs the end of her big bulky dress. "A full slapper right on her, with -- I'm guessing -- her brothers, cousins, uncles all within earshot -- all inside the bloody building. Her minder's eyes were about to bug out of his head." Off goes the robe. Covered by the plainest, greyest underwear imaginable, Mira's succulent breasts and classic hourglass figure. She goes to the task of removing her waist-high tights.

"Even in that traditional garb -- that arse, fuck -- nothing could hide the way she walked. Her hips swayed, like she was one of them curvy women who appeared in the old porn magazines." Steve removes his shoes, socks and puts his thumbs around his boxers, shoots a glance at Mira, who has just kicked off her tights. Mira tucks her thick dark locks behind her ears, pulls her lips in, nods, and moves forward, eager to expect the goods. Steve pulls down his shorts. Mira puts her hand over her mouth. The pink veiny instrument is much larger than you'd expect from a man of Steve's average stature. His testicles are the size of golf balls.

"I tried to keep my distance at first, seeing as I liked where my head was placed, but I just couldn't stop myself." Steve stands there, wiping sweat off his hairy chest. Mira works the complicated hooks on the back of her bra, unclasps the locks, lets her breasts out. Steve shudders in excitement.

"I couldn't though. I told them I'd like her to show me around, needed a woman's view due to what I was selling. I strong-armed them into making her my tour guide. I asked her if my kiss to the cheek as a hello was offensive. She said no, not in the slightest. She only asked that next time, when our bodies make contact, we should do so in private." Steve grabs Mira's breasts, lavishly licks her large brown nipples. Mira's long nails dig into Steve's back, her eyes shut, a loud hum emanating from deep within. Steve stands tall, holds his woman's hips, kisses her with force, pushes her into the wall. Mira drapes a leg around Steve's thighs, wraps her arms around him. Steve pulls out, holds her stomach with one hand, her back with the other. Steve bends her over, her hands on the blankets, and pulls down her grey panties. "I was sneaking feels of her arse during the day, and as nice as it was, I was feeling her through two or three thick layers. So when I got me a feel of it bare and soft like that." Small translucent drops escaped from Steve's engorged penis head. "Fuck me," he says as his on-screen self feels Mira's full backside "An arse like a Kardashian." Steve rubs, slaps and kisses her rear.

Mira lays herself out on the bed. Between her legs, a nest of wet black hairs.

"And a full bush." Steve gets on the bed, holds his cock, inserts himself inside, a river of sweat cascading down his back. "Did I care about not having a johnny (condom) on me? Did I fuck! My end-goal was stuffing all I had inside that tight wet vag! But don't tell my kids that."

Steve thrusts. Mira wraps her hands around Steve's neck. "I'm not ashamed to say I came hard just after a few thrusts." Steve collapses on top of his woman. "I needed it, to get that first one out the way." Hard sweaty kisses to her lips, moving down to kiss her cheek, neck, lifting her armpits, kissing her breasts, hips, lavishing his dusky woman with affection.

Steve stuffs two stubby fingers into her vagina. "I could tell she'd never been touched like this before." Mira grabs the pillow, places it over her head and bites down into it, her convulsions starting from her thighs and going up to her chest, her breasts wobbling, the iron bed frame slamming into the poorly-plastered walls, pockets of dust falling to the ground. Between her legs, the light blue blankets suddenly turn black. Steve moves back on top, kisses Mira's wet lips.

"I didn't know I'd sneak her back into Blighty -- well, I did, to an extent, seeing as I'd cummed so much inside her and Sharia law isn't so big on birth control. Jesus! Now there's something I'd never thought I'd say!"

End