Author's Note: A somewhat different story from me; outside my usual area. A request from a 'fan' seeking a story to speak to his particular (and it is a him) quirks and kinks. Bondage, gags and blindfolding, interracial, abduction, penis gags, almost incest and rather a lot more. No male/male wank buddying though! A bit tongue in cheek, and certainly absurd, but that's not so unusual from me.
"We have been talking," said Mrs. Mmmpho, "Donald and I, about Trixie."
Stuart nodded over his coffee mug, seated there in the Mmmphos' flat. Trixie was the Mmmphos' newly come-of-age daughter. He had known her since she was but a girl, since the Mmmphos and he had been neighbours for years. And as a man, his thoughts about Mrs. Mmmpho had been neighbourly, but sometimes a little bit more. More than a few times, late at night, tissues had collected his enthusiasm for Mrs. Mmmpho's rather generous breasts. He had imagined things with her, and they had not involved Mr. Donald Mmmpho at all! In fact, they had very much involved his replacement by Stuart in the marital bed and other places. Yes, a very different penis perhaps exuding between those generous breasts, or within Mrs. Mmmpho's no doubt capacious mouth, or in the place Trixie had travelled down all those eighteen years ago, out into the world.
"Trixie is such a shy little thing," Mrs Mmmpho continued. "We worry about how she'll be with boys when she goes off to college. She has no experience, what with us sending her to an all-girls' school."
Many times Stuart had enjoyed the sight of Trixie going out or coming home in her uniform. He had a bit of a thing about uniforms. Only a few days before, he had followed her up the stairs to his floor in the building; Trixie only noticed him at the top of the stairs. He had watched her brown legs in those long white socks, and had most certainly taken a quick and focused look when she turned a flight, trying to view rather more of her legs where they disappeared into her pleated maroon skirt--all from his lower vantage point. Was that even a flash of white knicker? He had talked a little to her outside the Mmmphos' door, about school and her hopes for college. She had not looked directly at him but respectfully downwards, and he had been able to observe a little down into her white blouse. He had liked that.
"Back in our old country." Mrs. Mmmpho was still talking. Stuart waited;. she often talked about that. Unsurprising, people always liked to reminisce about where they came from. Even he did, though nobody would be much interested in his old town, even if he still thought fondly of it.
"...things would be different," Mrs. Mmmpho finished her sentence. "Not that girls and boys would mix freely back there. Anything but. Still, coming of age was important, the young men becoming warriors and men...the nights spent alone in the desert and...well, you would have to ask Donald. But the young women learning to be women; the secrets, since you are a man, I could not divulge them to you but.... The birds and the bees, as you might say Mr. Jay... Stuart, the birds and the bees. They learnt about that."
Stuart nodded; he remembered his father explaining. It had not been easy for either of them. "A task for the mother," he offered.
"No, no, the village elder," Mrs. Mmmpho chimed in. "The girls would have no idea what was to happen. But it was not a quiet chat with the women around a fire. It was a violent ritual!"
"What!?" Stuart's eyes shot wide open in surprise.
"I think it would shock Trixie out of her timidity. Make her a strong woman. Able to easily face all those college boys. And it would please us. The old customs followed the rules. It was worse for the boys back home...so I understand. Not all came back...."
Now that didn't sound good, Stuart thought. "Are you thinking of flying back to--?"
"No, no," she interrupted. "I was thinking that somehow we could arrange the same thing here. I have spoken to friends but...well, there is a problem. Donald is the elder, you see. He could perform the rituals. Being the father is no bar, really, only...only he doesn't want to. He has become too Western, I think, and...and...." Mrs. Mmmpho's eyes looked at the floor, whilst Stuart gazed down her ample cleavage--so dark, so intriguing. "You see, Donald has a very large penis."
"Oh!" What to say to that? Stuart thought to himself!
"I can take it, I can take it all in. It does not hurt." Mrs. Mmmpho looked surprising coy making such a delicate and intimate disclosure, "And...I rather like it." She looked straight at Stuart, "I have a large mouth as well. I can suck...do a 'blowjob', I think is the word." Her pink tongue moved across her generous brown lips. It made Stuart shiver--in a nice way. A very nice way.
"I can take his cock, but I do not at all think Trixie's little hole could take Donald's penis, even after..." a pause, "...the rituals." She was quiet for a moment, clearly thinking. "Of course, Trixie's mouth is large like mine. She could do that."
Stuart was dumbstruck. Sucking her old man's cock, being taught the arts of pleasing a man by--her father. What!? It was unnatural and so outside his experience, yet within his pants his own cock, no doubt nothing to compare with Mr. Donald Mmmpho's apparent whopper, was hard as a rock.
"It would not be right for one of the other men in our community to take Donald's place but...a visiting elder from another village, perhaps. Though...." Mrs. Mmmpho's gesture was wide, "...there is no other village here, of course. So... well...Donald and I wondered if you...." Mrs. Mmmpho trailed off.
Stuart's eyes went wide. Was Mrs. Mmmpho really asking him to put his cock in Trixie's mouth? Perhaps even fuck her? It sounded like it!
"I'm sorry," Stuart replied, wanting to be certain of what he had just heard. What exactly do you want me to do? I do not...I mean, I'm not a village elder. I don't live in a village." Anything but, he told himself--rather, in an apartment block in a big city.
But Mrs. Mmmpho proceeded to lay out exactly what she wanted. Mr. Mmmpho and she saw Stuart as the 'apartment block 'elder'. He was the oldest man in the apartment complex, and they had seen him in uniform. He looked distinguished and.... She began to explain the rituals, and her words did nothing to lessen Stuart's tumescence. If anything they encouraged it to be harder still. What she conveyed to him was, in fact, his own fantasies writ large--an astounding invitation!
"So, then, if you've finished your coffee, Donald asked me, if you don't mind, Stuart, to inspect...."
Surely this could not be, he told himself. This really could not. Surely, she was not going to say--but she was!
"... your penis."
What was he to say? Perhaps Mrs. Mmmpho might want to touch as well, perhaps even 'make it work.'
"Really?" he replied, taking a sane curse to this insane suggestion. "Yes of course, Mrs. Mmmpho. If you wish. Anytime...I mean...." Okay, he was confused--of course he was confused!
She motioned for him to stand, and immediately she could see the state of his trousers. There was definitely something in there, apart from loose change and his keys. "Ah, good, Stuart, you are manly and hard already. How useful--and it does not look too big. Come here, please."
Stuart had fantasized, but now it was real. He was standing in front of Mrs. Mmmpho, between her spread thighs, her dress stretched between them as she sat upon a kitchen chair. He looked down, down her cleavage at the swell of her not inconsiderable breasts. Plenty of room to keep a handkerchief--or quite a lot of things, actually--safely between them. Stuart had peaked down her cleavage before, many times. But not like this. Her hands reached for his belt. He closed his eyes, disbelieving the evidence that she really was about to extract his cock from his fly. Belt undone, trousers undone, and then zip lowered. A hand, not at all his own, placed on the cotton of his boxers, feeling the sausage shape within. She was touching his penis--almost, just thin cotton was separating penile flesh and her pink palm. He hoped she did not think it too large or, again, too small!
"Feels right. Shall we see...or rather, may I see?"
A pulling forward of the elastic of the waistband, and then a firm tugging down of both boxers and trousers leaving the somewhat unattractive sight of a sixty-plus-year-old man standing with trousers and pants around his knees, and his wrinkled cock standing up in the air. Mrs. Mmmpho's eyes were all on his cock.
"But this is excellent! Just what Donald and I hoped. May I? Donald will want to know."
It was not one of his past fantasies, but it would more than do--especially as it was real. Mrs. Mmmpho had already reached for a dressmaker's tape measure; had, no doubt, placed it deliberately to hand. Stuart had measured his cock long ago when in his teens. He had never had someone else do it. What a thing for Mrs. Mmmpho to be doing--and best of all it meant she had to touch him.
"Five-and-a-half inches, just right," she said, with one end of the tape measure pushed into his greying pubic hair, the other up at the tip of his knob, finger actually resting on the end. "Four-and-a-half inches," she announced next, holding the tape right around the erection towards where it joined the rest of his body. "Perfect. It's lovely. Donald will be pleased."
Her fingers trailed down the knob and rested at the edge, the purple, splayed edge. "You have been cut," she fingered his circumcision scar, "like our boys when they become men. That is good. Donald and I could not possibly have a boy popping Trixie's cherry. That worries her about college. It needs to be done properly, and Trixie needs to be ready to deal with boys at college. It will happen, of course. She is very pretty." Her fingers were lightly moving up and down an inch below the swollen knob. It was a wonderful feeling.
