Oral Africa

Debra was the lead nurse on our first humanitarian aid team into Project Extract.

We worked closely in endless hours in the burgeoning African refugee camps, our bodies eventually growing very accustomed to rubbing against one another in the tense food and medicine lines, then even more so after the long work days, then increasingly often over a rare police-smuggled German beer, then later yet into shared short sleepovers in her tent or mine in the diminutive, restless nights.

Our faded, tattered, and too-infrequently laundered khaki clothes eventually came off almost of their own accord in each other’s presence and we fucked.

Hormones, pheromones, body fluid markers floated fragrantly in the collectively increasingly sickening cauldron of human exhalation, but among the smell of countless people, moistening the evening air, her light sweat became potent perfume. Her natural self embedded itself in my desire like the breath of a baby.

We fucked and wore our fuck into the next day’s work, blending into the indistinguishable smell of clutching, wide-eyed, craving soul cages juggling about us for salvation from sickness, and nutrients for deteriorating muscles.

My God but she was eager to fuck. My God but I was eager to fuck. We spent many of these lonely evenings continents away from our friends and families hanging out, smoking bootlegged Camels without filters because we had nothing else to do, and spending more and more of our time in the dark space between endless work hours fucking.

I learned to hesitate not the least to find myself still overwhelmingly evident in her from hours earlier when I parted her knees now for a new visit.

One night I didn’t stop at my usual treat sucking her delectable nipples while slowly teasing myself into her moistening cunt. She was feeling particularly needy, a little tipsy from our pilfered beer, and let me slide past her hesitant hands, down her chest, her belly, to her shockingly aromatic and delicious pussy.

I ravenously ate her pussy out for either her first time, or for the first time she really enjoyed it.

It seemed to work very well for her. After that first time, she loved it so much that I ate her out all the time, every night we could be together, for as long as I could keep my face between her thighs. I thought about it all day when I worked, my vacation where there was no other.

Debra tried sucking me a few times but always stopped short and apologized for not swallowing me, saying she just couldn’t do it. At first I didn’t mind so much and I would jerk off to finish when she pulled away.

She would watch me, fascinated, and even dabble her fingers in my mess, spreading me around her belly button, piling it on her dolphin naval ring, rubbing it between her fingers, curiously bringing me to her nose to smell, but not yet able to bring me to her tongue to taste.

I figured we would be moving on our separate ways soon enough and I didn’t need to get too wrapped up in petty frustration. Work, though rewarding, was ghastly, Deb was a delight, and there was nothing at all not to love and enjoy about our trauma-bonding intimacy.

But as time went on, my interest waned and I found reasons to avoid her, shifting to direct our teams surveying the needs in neighboring camps, feeling more frustrated and lusting for more serious open intimacy, both ways, than I imagined I would ever need. I gave myself over to the reality that men will be men – and I am a man.

She figured out pretty soon what was happening and I got a late night visit from her at my tent after a dinner of canned chicken noodle soup at her tent that went no further.

“Just hear me out,” she started. “I think I know why you’re holding back now. And I…I don’t know how else to say it, but I want to give you what you give me. All the way I mean. I want to get you off in my mouth. And…and I really don’t know how to start except to just Pendik Escort do it, you know?”

She went on before I had a chance to respond.

“I really mean this. I want to…I want at least to try. But I’d need you to be patient and not get mad or give up. So…so can I just come in and mess around and…well, let me try?”

“I swear to God, Deb, that’s the most romantic thing anyone ever told me,” I chuckled to try to lighten the tone a little.

“Come inside, my dear, for my last hidden and final foreseeable beer for the month. We’ll see what happens – whatever you feel like.”

I felt a difference in her almost immediately. We fell together very quickly and I pushed her back to get off her wrinkled camouflaged pants and quickly found, then even more quickly lost myself in, her scalding, inviting, pungent pussy.

Just knowing she came over and acknowledged wanting to get me off renewed my attraction to her immeasurably.

She seemed to enjoy my tongue even more considering the nasty thing she was planning to try. I ate her out and licked her juices like milk, showing her the cream on my lips. I ate her until she exploded into my face, fucking my mouth with rapid, twisting lunges. I kept sucking until she stopped me and went for my cock.

“Now,” she murmured, excitement trembling her voice a little, “Your turn.”

“Are you sure, Deb?” I asked her sincerely. “I don’t ever want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable doing. It’s no fun for me that way.”

“Just do it, Brett. Fuck my mouth.” She took me deep and held me there. I could sense her exploration at a new level.

“I’m going to do this. I want to do this. Remember, I asked you!”

I pulled her up and kissed her deeply, swapping our mouth moisture.

“Just let go and cum in my mouth, Brett. I want it even if I choke a little at first. I want to do this until I get it down. Promise me!”

“Promise,” I said, “I have an idea. The first time, try to take my stuff in your mouth and just, like, hold it for a while to get used to it, hmmm? Then let most of it drip down onto my chest and swallow some. If you can take more, then lick it up at your own pace.”

I felt myself hearkening back to years ago in my safe, discreet sex therapy office in Chapel Hill, teaching sexually awakening young wives and girl friends of very lucky men – always gently and ethically – who were very eager, but still somewhat reluctant how to get beyond the aversion to swallowing semen.

My soft words to Debra felt warm and homey to me. They brought back slivers of the passion that beat in my chest those days, the passion to un-cage that long-bridled animal human lust crouching just below the surfaces in those delightful, daintily clad yuppies and hippies, republicans and democrats, doctors and songwriters, straights and gays, those who would evolve to eat sex and those that would never arise to love the taste of another on their tongue.

I never imagined I would exchange that insistent beating in my chest for the sound of these animal skin drums pounding barely a hundred yards away.

My weak words seemed to be the ticket that put her in her comfort zone.

“Take it in my mouth, then drool it back, and eat it slow? Hmmm? Damn, Brett, that’s sexy! How could a girl resist that?” Whether she joked or not, our juices were rising to the challenge.

To feed the senses, I peeled back my tent flaps and let the moonlight pour into our little Sheraton on the Savanna.

I got on my back and pulled her bottom to my face, leaving my dick for her to do with as she felt like. I wanted her cunt bad and I also wanted her to be feeling grand the first time she ate cum for pleasure. I licked deep into her flowing cunt, spreading her pussy wetness around her ass rim and then deep into her ass.

A few seconds of that and she was sucking me like a starved woman, licking up what I was leaking into her mouth, turning excitedly to illumination Pendik Escort Bayan in the moonbeams, showing my silver stuff to me glistening on her lips.

I just trusted Deb, thousands of miles from friends, a dedicated friend and ultimate caring professional. I did a very uncharacteristic thing for a man, or at least for me – I let myself go with abandon into her first full suck off, I gave myself completely to her pleasuring me. I lost all track of time or conscious description, feeling rather than thinking the delicious nuances.

Deb sucked me, coaxed me, anxiously, excitedly sucking for my stuff, feeling for the epiphany.

In a delicious reverie I felt the dam burst and my cum was racing toward her mouth, I suddenly, despite my best intention to just let go, pulled back a bit, clenched automatically, still afraid for her, not wanting to overwhelm her. But she felt it coming and went down even harder, sucked me hard then eased away and opened her mouth anticipating the flood, which she got immediately.

I expected her to pull away or gag when my first jolt of cum hit her mouth, but instead I felt her close her lips tightly. Suddenly I felt that familiar sensation that guys know perfectly well once they are swallowed by a girl who really is practiced. Deb’s tight mouth was gripping my shaft and I could feel my stuff flowing freely into her mouth – through inner sensation only, because I couldn’t feel or see anything coming out, she contained it all. I wondered, as I always do, where all that stuff goes, and how exactly she can really manage it.

But manage it she did. She stayed on me until her mouth was completely full and cum was overflowing her mouth down her lips. Then she opened her mouth and showed me the pooled, thick mess. I saw no hint of gagging and she had a flicker of her smile, pride evident in her flashing eyes as she rolled her tongue through my semen, forcing some of it down her chin and onto her tits and my chest.

Then she did exactly what we talked about. She turned to crawl closer to my face, opened her mouth and let the thick mixture of cum and spit cascade out onto my chest, across her extended tongue, tasting it as it poured.

“Oh, baby, that was fantastic,” I crooned, still breathless. “Are you okay?”

“Okay, but we’re not through,” she smiled, and lowered her lips into the large puddle, coating her lips slowly, tonguing the thickness through slickened lips.

She ran her fingers through it and ate it first from her fingers. She showed no signs of discomfort. She licked cum from her fingers then licked it up directly from my skin, swallowing easily.

Out of sheer lust and gratitude, I rolled her back over and settled back into her cunt to finish eating her out while she cleaned me up. I felt her body tighten and her breathing got faster as she gave in to her own come. She yelped quietly and exploded into a million tiny convulsions, then long slow waves that seemed to go on forever – the perfect reinforcement for the experience of eating cum.

She collapsed back onto my spit-washed chest and smiled at me.

“I did it. I swallowed it all,” she said finally, flushed and beaming. “It’s really raw, nasty, pungent, powerful – but I get it now. I can do this.”

“But, did you like it,” I asked quietly, “It felt great to me. But did it feel good to you? Did it taste good?”

Deb ran her tongue over her shiny lips. “Yeah,” she said. “Amazing sex. Having you eat me out while I swallowed you was over the top. That was very good. The best.”

Having me watch her do it was her next challenge thing that she described as we reached to each other for a finishing comfort fuck. We fucked softly and drifted off to sleep, exhausted and facing yet another new day of poverty, sickness and pain in the camps.

I woke in the pitch dark the next morning with a raging hard on, fortunately a rainy Saturday with the work day looming later as Escort Pendik men spread straw and other debris on the murky puddles of mud, so we could get to and from and between the food and medicine staging areas.

She was back at my cock before dawn set in. Now she was twisting her nubile frame so that she could look me in the face while she sucked, so I could watch her suck me.

In those blurry days that followed, Deb recreated herself into a connoisseur in a canvas palace. On her palatial bedroll, softened by mounds of dust, propped just so to give us an illusion of bed, she reveled in opening her mouth for my cock, she would devour me slowly, eat it all, eat it leisurely. And I her. Our plain white American wrappers became containers for daily protein meals, providing Deb and me every bit the oral satisfaction that the barely more plentiful porridge in the buckets did.

Our sex food became soul staples natural as milk and dry bread, normal as tomato juice, common as oat mush, delectable as honey wine glaze on bread pudding in open-air, brick wall-nuanced white table clothed ambience in mid-summer Charleston.

Here though, now though, Debra’s mouth in Africa fed me unspeakable pleasure whenever I fed Debra’s mouth what I had to offer, often as not pouring my nectar into her mouth to the beat of drums slamming out tradition, hunger, anger, and angst.

Deb was very happy with how much pleasure she was giving me. She was magnificent and I found myself completely hard again just talking about it.

“This isn’t bad at all,” she kept saying. “The taste, you know, the feel of it in my mouth, all thick and all. All of it. the whole fucking thing. I can really do this.”

Something about the way she said it portended something significant down the road. I prayed more than I ever would have admitted to her that she would live to find that something down the road.

The way she kept pondering her newly expressed sexual freedom and power had her thinking differently on all levels: “I can do this and I really get off on doing it.”

Over those days, I could only laugh at how matter-of-factly she went about giving me every man’s wildest wet dream as though I was doing her a favor, but it wasn’t contrived.

I knew her well enough to know she was serious, really into it, and thinking hard and long about her exploded sexual boundaries.

In those first heady days of her brave enlightenment, she sucked me off more times than I could count, tasting and swallowing my cum easily, without gagging or blinking. More and more she looked me square in the eyes when I came in her mouth, her eyes bright as the stars gleaming down in that southern hemisphere.

She swallowed me now with gusto, really getting aroused herself with the effect her mouth had on me. I was her new adventure toy.

Eating my cum really seemed to increase her desire to have me suck her pussy.

Before, she had always wanted to get quickly to fucking. Now she would spread her legs and welcome my face down, hands in my hair, almost as soon as I threw back her tent doors those nights, as quickly as I could jam my knees into her sleeping bag nestled in the dust.

I ate her out to full orgasms at least once, and usually two or three times before she would start down on me.

You may feel I am describing animal behavior. You may think I am obsessed and consumed with a base, raw, animal fixation on the lowest form of human lust and carnal appetite, describing, appealing to the prurient interest only, trying only to invoke sexual appetite.

You are so absolutely fucking right.

Let me say it this way.

The political and geological wilds of Africa were our home, angry armed men, women, and children hovered with guns and machetes scant yards outside our scarcely guarded tent camp parameter fences, hunger and disease tore at those bodies encircling us, bodies we had come to know and love, wild animals slunk slowly closer every day from the enclosing jungles, closer to our human world, feeling out their constantly-evolving place in the food chain as humanity struggled all about us.

Debra was the wildest thing in Africa.