Out of Africa

That last word was almost shouted in punctuation of Mark's final and hardest thrust; his cock speared into me and I complied with his demand. 'Complied', that sounds as if I'd some choice in the matter; I came like the proverbial train and would've done so irrespective of any order from Mark, or even God Almighty! My orgasm was wet, noisy... explosive! I went off like an erupting volcano and probably scared the life out of Mark with the power of it; I'd never climaxed so hard in my life!

Mark allowed me the time to recover; how long that was I've no idea, I was away with the fairies following that climax, it may have been two minutes, but it could've been two hours or even two weeks! However, Mark wasn't entirely idle, when I regained my composure it was to find myself still sprawled upon the kitchen table, but I was now laid flat on my back with my blouse and bra unfastened and disarrayed. My skirt had gone completely and Mark was standing between my splayed and dangling legs, his cock -- as hard as ever! - half-buried in my sopping pussy, while his mouth feasted on my exposed breasts.

I suspect it was that which had pulled me back to awareness, the sensations and feelings that having Mark's lips encircling my nipple were equally deep, but far removed from those I recall them generating when he was a baby. Mark looked upward and our eyes met, mine no longer glazed and unseeing; the smile that he gave me left me wondering if his mind had perhaps been wandering along similar lines? Whatever, the moment Mark realised that I was again coherent, his hips jerked and he once again plunged deep, drawing a far from maternal groan of acceptance from me; he recommenced with the same steady, pistoning which had so recently capsized me.

Now that we'd each enjoyed the release of a first climax it was... easier, a steady rhythmic coupling, which felt as if it could, indeed I hoped it would, go on for hours; instead, after just a few minutes our rhythm was lost to the ringing of Mark's telephone. It lay on the table almost beside my head and in the way that youngsters do, Mark allowed it to grab his attention and reached for it immediately; it was half way to his ear before his thought process and perhaps my expression caught up with him. Mark froze, looked suitably embarrassed, then lowered the still ringing phone to the table; it never got there

Mark's expression morphed into a wicked, almost evil grin and he raised the phone once again; I made to berate him, but Mark promptly checked me with a finger pressed against my lips and growled: "Wait. I'll get back to you when I'm ready... Mtungi." Nettled as I was by his words, I couldn't help but smile; I'd made my choice, I was now Mtungi, a pleasure vessel for my son, or indeed any unmarried man who understood the significance of the trumpet flower. I was duty-bound to fulfil Mark's wants and desires and if he chose to ignore me in favour of a telephone call, then that was his right and the Mtungi must wait her turn; I said that my son was a fast learner, it'd not taken him long to realise the power that he held over a Mtungi.

I only heard one side of the conversation, but it was clearly with one of the boys who'd visited yesterday: "...No. no problems at all.... I'm not joking, in fact I've got my cock inside her right now... No, Mum's laid on the kitchen table, desperate for me to put the phone down and shag her some more... It's that Mtungi thing you were all talking about yesterday, Mum is one; well, maybe just a trainee Mtungi, but she's a fast learner... It's a yellow trumpet flower in our region, Mum was wearing a brooch with it on... No, but I can maybe get her one in the New Year; that tattoo Aaron's got is pretty neat, I'll ask him where he got that done.... Yea, put it somewhere that's not too easy to cover up... Of course, just speak to the others and give me a call when you know."

As Mark finished the call, he almost casually tweaked at my left nipple: "You've got gorgeous tits Mum; are you ready for some more cock?" Mark didn't wait for a reply -- I'm Mtungi, so it could only have been 'yes' -- instead he leant forward and engulfed that freshly tweaked nipple with his mouth -- God I'd just loved it when he did that! - and recommenced those steady rhythmic penetrations. I didn't answer, but my squeal of delight was easily translated.

The second phone call was less... intrusive; Mark had already stopped fucking me while my second orgasm of the morning ripped through my belly:

"...OK, yes... yeah no problem, he's from C-A... If he can swing it, I don't see why not... As long as you get here at least, I can't keep going for much longer on my own... Yea, Mum's still got her blouse on and it's pinned to that... No you can get at her boobs, but you're right we do need to sort something better; more permanent... OK, see you then."

It was with a degree of trepidation that I enquired: "Who was that; are they coming here?"

Mark began, albeit casually and steadily to fuck me again as he answered: "Pele; he says Joel and another C-A guy called Ran will be here in half an hour or so. you've probably met Ran, he's definitely been here before."

"And the others... Pele and Mgumba?"

"Mgumba's working today and Pele's got to go to the railway station to meet his girlfriend, she's visiting until the New Year; depending on what she says, he may call round later, but that won't be until mid-afternoon and probably later."

"I doubt that Pele's girlfriend will be too enamoured with the idea of him leaving her on her own while he comes here to fuck me."

"No, but Pele's hoping he can talk Tammi into coming too; she's a dirty mare so she might enjoy watching."

That gave me pause; ridiculous I know, but the thought of performing with someone... spectating, felt rather too embarrassing. As much as anything, I spoke to cover my discomfiture: "This Tammi, is she from C-A too?"

"No, Tammi's... really foreign." With that Mark picked-up his pace; our conversation was clearly over.

Mark only fucked me for another minute or so before pausing; a wicked smile crossed his face as he announced: "If we're sharing out the Mtungi again, I guess it'd make sense for me to open-up your arse before the other guys get here." Mark withdrew, realigned himself and began pressing his cock into my bum; I'd smeared a dollop of Seline's magic-cream on my bum earlier and I was nowhere near as tight there as I'd been yesterday. Mark certainly penetrated me more easily and the sensation of him stretching open that tight canal was even more pleasurable than I remembered?

Conversely, we were today face to face; surrendering that most unsavoury of openings -- most especially to my son! -- while being looked in the eye seemed most especially sordid. It perhaps wouldn't have felt quite so sordid if I hadn't known full well that my own enjoyment of Mark's lewd penetration was evident in my expression; I tried my damnedest, but I couldn't hide my guilty pleasure.

Mark was once again fucking me with a slow, steady... controlled rhythm, no doubt aiming to last as long as he could, so rather than striving to relax my bum, I instead constricted it tighter around him. The result was immediately visible in his eyes and had me smiling wickedly; Mark was further along than he'd been trying to suggest and wouldn't hold out much longer. In response, or perhaps retaliation, Mark's left hand released my hip, and thrust between my legs; two perhaps three fingers dug deep into my pussy and crudely assaulted my clitoris.

Our cycle of aggressive teasing quickly escalated, Mark's probing fingers drew a gasp from me and my hip's jerked in response, this in turn put even greater pressure on his invading prick and it was Mark's turn to gasp in reply. As my pelvis dropped back to the table and the tightening eased, Mark drew back before positively slamming himself into me -- both his cock and those assaulting fingers! - with a growl of "Take it you greedy slut!" Two equally harsh thrusts followed before I felt Mark's seed flooding into my bowel as I too exploded in yet another powerful climax. What had become of me? Rather than it being offensive, Mark's labelling me a 'Dirty Slut' had seemed fair comment.

We again lay gasping for breath for long minutes, before Mark rose up, walked to the fridge and got himself a beer; after taking a long draught he offered the can to me and I - unusually -- accepted and took a deep pull myself before handing it back. Mark reclined in a chair as I leaned against the table's edge; we were sharing a second beer when the doorbell rang; a tremble of... I'm not really sure what, ran through my belly at the sound. That feeling was exacerbated when Mark casually instructed me to go and answer the door. That feeling went through the roof a moment later; as I reached for my skirt and made to fasten my blouse, Mark ordered: "No... Answer it exactly as you are; you're Mtungi."

Once out of Mark's sight I did my best to appear decent, aside from the C-A boys, anybody might've been passing our front door! I didn't dare defy Mark and refasten my blouse, but I did spare one hand to hold it closed; a glance in the hall mirror confirmed this was still little more than a poor nod towards propriety, the blouse's hem barely covered my pussy and my thighs, which glistened with Mark's expended semen and my own leaked juices, not at all.

Another and yet more unsettling thought struck me just as I was opening the door: Dear God, it may not even be the C-A boys, perhaps instead one of our neighbours was delivering a seasonal greeting. So, despite my being in a state of quite shameless dishabille, my finding two smiling black men, one of whom I didn't recognise at all and whose expressions swiftly morphed into ones of predatory lust standing on the doorstep actually came as something of a relief.

I didn't tarry in the doorway, turning and heading back toward the kitchen, left the two of them to enter and close the door themselves; they moved equally swiftly and one of them -- probably Joel -- was close behind me with a hand groping at my buttocks and between my legs even as I walked back into the kitchen. Once there, Joel -- caught me by the shoulders, spun me around and fitted a cotton neckerchief about my throat; the significance eluded me until he then unpinned the yellow brooch from my blouse and re-affixed it to the scarf.

Joel stepped back, admired his handiwork for a few seconds and then promptly ripped -- and I do mean ripped! - my blouse off, he appraised the view once again, I was now naked save for the brooch adorned scarf and twirled me back around for Ran and Mark to inspect: "What do you think... better? Now we can see what we've got to play with..." Joel's arms snaked around me, one hand groping at my left breast, the other probing between my legs; I shivered and released a low growl in response to his vulgar assault as he added: "...And this Mtungi feels just as eager to be played with as she was yesterday."

Mark was beside the refrigerator, he'd been getting more beers while I answered the door; once those had been handed out -- I wasn't offered one -- the boys exchanged greetings. Ran made enquiries of Mark about events of the previous day, by the sound of things he wanted confirmation of the salacious tales which he'd been hearing from Joel; then both boys pressed Mark about what he and I had been up to this morning. Mark casually obliged them; happily relating everything in the most lurid of detail; throughout their exchange I was simply ignored.

I'd begun to get rather annoyed at this treatment until the word Mtungi was used and in an instant my anger dissipated. A Mtungi was what I'd chosen to be and as such I didn't warrant inclusion in their conversation; until the moment that any or all of them required sexual relief, I was simply irrelevant. I'm perhaps being a just little disingenuous there, the boys might not have been speaking to me, but all three were slipping me glances as they spoke; they might've been 'playing it cool', but those glances were acquisitive and... eager, I knew they wouldn't be ignoring me for very long.

It was Joel who set the ball rolling, turning toward me, but clearly addressing Mark: "How about you getting us both another beer while the Mtungi takes care of Ran? I promised him that we'd let him have her first as he didn't get a taste yesterday; in fact I reckon he's never had a woman."

Mark nodded his agreement then headed for the fridge. "Sounds like a plan; we'll have another cold one while we watch Mum teach Ran all there is to know."

Ran protested their allegations that he was a virgin, though even to my ears he wasn't very convincing; a suspicion reinforced by his obvious reluctance to do the deed in full view of the other two boys. I felt sympathy for Ran's predicament and with just a single look in Mark's direction, I shared my concern with him. My son's a decent lad, teasing, but certainly not cruel; he read my expression instantly and suggested: "Tell you what Joel, let's give Ran a bit of privacy as it's his first time; we'll have some lunch and take another crack at that video game, while Ran takes the Mtungi upstairs and pops his cherry."

While Ran again protested that he was no virgin, he was quick to grab me by the shoulders and push me towards the door, telling the other two that he was only doing so to make things more comfortable for the Mtungi. Neither Mark nor Joel argued, but their laughter suggested that they didn't believe him either.

BOXING DAY -- THE AFTERNOON

Once out in the hallway Ran's display of confidence deserted him and we stumbled to a halt; he couldn't know the way to my bedroom anyway. I took him by the hand, squeezed it gently and enquired: "Thank you for your concern, I will be more comfortable in the bedroom; shall I lead the way?"

Ran seemed unable to speak, but he answered with a broad smile and an eager nod; as we climbed the stairs his confidence seemed to return: Ran pressed close up behind me, his free hand tentatively stroking my thighs as we went; by the time we'd reached the landing, that hand had gravitated between my thighs. On entering the bedroom I released Ran's hands, reclined invitingly onto the bed and in Lingala sensuously enquired: "So how would you like me... Nkolo." To my horror that again left Ran tongue-tied and stuttering with nervous embarrassment, dispelling any lingering doubt as to whether Ran was a virgin.

In that moment I understood another facet of the Mtungi women; all I'd ever seen of them when we were back in C-A was at the parties or on the festival weekends, when you'd find them out in the street, naked or close to it with one or more men inside them while others called lewd encouragement and advice as they awaited their own turn. But logically and no doubt behind closed doors, there had to be this other side to that coin; where else but to a Mtungi would those young men have ventured to first lose their virginity? Rising from the bed I wrapped Ran in a fond embrace, kissed him lightly and whispered: "Would you permit me to decide?"

Ran's eyes were lowered, he remained silent, but his nod of assent was eager. I gently peeled the clothes off him, continuing to kiss him as I did so and in between those I told Ran how handsome, strong and virile he looked; to be fair, that required little exaggeration, he was a very attractive young man. Ran checked me as I was unfastening his trousers and for the first time he kissed me, he then enquired as to what he should call me. I was confused by the question and no doubt it showed on my face. "I don't want to just call you Mtungi and Mrs Harrison would feel... silly."

I smiled and couldn't help musing at what a pleasant change this was: For the last twenty four hours all decisions relating to me had been made amongst the boys themselves; perhaps with some slight deference toward Mark, but certainly without reference to or consideration for me; I was simply the Mtungi, my name or needs weren't relevant, just my... availability. I kissed Ran again, deeper and longer this time, with real feeling behind it; a feeling of gratitude. "My name's Judith and I would rather you called me that than Mtungi too."

A few seconds later Ran's jeans fell to his ankles, I pushed his underpants down his thighs and felt his cock bounce against my belly as it sprang free; the slap it delivered suggested that it was substantial. The first touch with my right hand confirmed that assessment, I could barely encompass Ran's shaft with my fingers; only a second later Ran unleashed a yelp and it was powerful stream of his semen that next slapped against my belly.

I was looking into Ran's face in that instant and saw it fall; he was devastated by his loss of control, for a few moments I thought he might burst into tears. With my new found understanding I knew it was time for the Mtungi to earn her corn; I threw my arms around Ran's head, pulled him to me and kissed him passionately, my tongue forcing it's way between his quivering lips to emphasise my desire: "Oh, thank you Ran, that's the best compliment you could have paid me. Even better, once you're hard again and I just know that a virile young man like you will be hard again very soon, you'll last for ages; that was perfect, thank you." When I kissed Ran again, he met my caress with an equal passion.

Ran's self-confidence might've been saved, but as he kicked away his shoes, jeans and underpants he remained bashful and unsure; he even moved to cover his cock and balls with his hands, it was so cute. I stepped close to kiss Ran again and as I did so I took his wrists, raised his hands to place one on my hip and the other on my breast, Ran's groan of desire was echoed by the sensation of his cock twitching against my thigh; he was going to fulfil my prediction about him getting hard again. I gave things another couple of minutes, during which his hands began to wander; Ran was clearly enamoured by my boobs and when I pressed his head to them he repeated that groan in the instant before his mouth encompassed one of my nipples

Ran's cock tapped against me once again, but this time it struck my belly; Ran was already as hard as a nail!

I led Ran to the bed, he was trembling in his nervousness, so I repeated the suggestion that I might direct things, his broad smile and eager nodding were repeated too. I directed Ran to the very top of the bed and bunched the pillows up behind him, he was sat almost upright, though not quite so upright as that cock of his; I hadn't been deceived, Ran was big! I was far from an expert on such matters, but Ran was much bigger than any of the other boys, or indeed than my husband had been; it was now I who was trembling, but from desire rather than nerves.

Ran's cock was gorgeous and I wanted it inside me; for a moment I'd almost forgotten that I was Mtungi. My task was to cater to Ran's needs and desires rather than my own; that brought a smile to my face along with a wanton thought of 'I guess this is what's called job satisfaction.' Hesitation over, I climbed onto the bed, straddled Ran's thighs and taking that beautiful shaft in my hand to guide it, I lowered myself slowly down, the sensation of it parting my labia and pressing through my vulva had me purring like a cat. I was slick, courtesy of Seline's lubricious salve and my own secretions -- God but I'd generated more than enough of those today! - so it came as a surprise when Ran's full length didn't just slide into me in a single easy penetration; he really was big!

Surprised, but far from disappointed, it took me two more increasingly forceful thrusts to bury Ran completely and the primeval growl that heralded my success was mutual; I felt fuller than I had yesterday when there were two men inside me, there were going to be no double-penetrations involving Ran! My choice of position was a winner on two counts: I could dictate the depth and force of Ran's boob-bouncing penetrations while displaying said boobs directly in Ran's eye-line; he'd been enamoured with them from the beginning and now I doubted if I could've dragged his hands and mouth off them even if I'd tried.