Author's Note:
This story should stand on its own, but it will make more sense if you've read Tales of Fabulous Namu.
Chronologically, it takes place at the end of Part. 4.
Jabar was sex on two legs, chiseled, and slim. The tattoo of a bull's horns was painted across his chest, black points of the solid boss curving just above his nipples. More horns hung from his ears, dangling from brass spacers, curling up to point out in front of his chin. His braided hair was beaded and loose, hanging to broad, brown shoulders.
Suwarya shivered with desire. She wanted to slurp up every bit of him. She didn't even care that, at the moment, he was rambling with other members of his gang, the Stone Guards.
Rambling. Yes, that's what the protection gangs called it. Being seen. Looking tough. Justifying the tax they levied on every vendor and tradesman in their corner of the shantytown called the Hazard.
Slum or not, there was coin to be made. Suwarya's husband, Tiko, for example, managed a modest living as a woodcrafter, carving everything from trestles to lamp holders. Everyone had something to trade, from the women who carried water, to savory stew vendors, to the old storytellers who napped under the trees.
Suwarya stepped out into the midday sun from the corner where she'd been waiting. Jabar was just across the dusty lot, where a group of women sold pots of water they claimed was fresh and clean.
She had prepared for him. She'd massaged aloe, scented with waterberry, into her skin. She'd probably spent a little too long rubbing certain areas, but that only made her more ready. She'd painted her eyes with kohl, and tied her long hair into a ribbon-segmented zebra's tail. A thin halter displayed her cleavage, like a lavish feast.
His hunger for her was apparent, even as he tried to hide it. His eyelids grew heavy, and his lips, plump and dark, curled into a smirk. He said something to his companions. They chuckled. Suwarya set her hands on her waist, aware of how her hips flared when she cocked them just so.
Jabar strutted across the lot, paying no mind to people that hurried out of his way. A hooked club hung at his waist, and a sheathed knife was strapped at his thigh. But a Stone Guard needed no weapons to intimidate.
That luscious curl tugged at his lips again. "Suwa," he said, lazily. "Wanna get something to eat?"
They hurried into a dead-end alley. The ground was uneven under her sandals, the crumbling walls overgrown with lianas. Suwarya stumbled a little as she threw her hands around his neck and planted her lips on his.
He tasted of the sweet yeastiness of palm wine. Crushed against him, her nipples brushed the inside of her halter. The heat of his flesh was scalding. His pelvis jammed against hers, making her gasp. His hard thigh edged hers apart, pressing her ass against the wall.
A whimper escaped from her lips as his kisses trailed down to her throat. She felt eyes upon her, imagined the lust of someone spying upon them. Suwarya glanced towards the mouth of the alley, invisible around a slight bend in the passage. There was no one there. Even so, the idea that they were being watched excited her more.
Her eyes closed, face lifted towards the hot sun, Suwarya fumbled at the strings to his trousers. His lips and tongue worked at the hollow of her throat, dancing along her collarbone as he yanked her halter up. She gasped, nipples bared, stiff in the open air.
A shadow flitted across her face. She opened her eyes. There was nothing atop the wall. Just the rippling of dry season heat. Suwarya groaned as his lips plucked at her aching breasts.
Finally, she loosened his drawstring, feeling a sense of triumph at the swish of cloth as his trousers pooled at his feet. She sank down against the wall.
Jabar smelled of clean, masculine sweat and the smoky scent of shea butter. His thick
popo
was already growing along his thigh. Suwarya ran a finger along its length. It twitched with eagerness.
Suwarya had these moods, when all she could think about was cock and how to best to stuff it inside her. She'd spend hours, days even, irritable and sullen, with an itch she couldn't reach, and a husband obsessed with his trade.
This was one of those times.
She dipped her head and caught the tip of Jabar's manhood between her lips. The spongy, salty head swelled on her tongue. Suwarya sucked it to full size, hands running up and down the smooth muscles of his thighs.
She was dripping wet and ready to be rutted. But his hands settled on her head. She relaxed, closed her eyes again, and let him thrust into her mouth. Her itch was going to get scratched. The anticipation, the certainty, of her ravishment made sucking him a pleasure.
"Ah yes, my copper-skinned beauty. Suck that
popo
!"
Suwarya had often been called exotic because of her fine features and the reddish tinge of her skin. Her mother claimed she was descended from Gujari sorcerers. But Namu was a melting pot of mongrels, with ancestry from tribes from across the savanna, immigrants from the forest and Hill Kingdoms -- even Bhatagurans from far across the sea.
She hummed as his cock shuttled between her lips, hitting the opening to her throat each time. It dragged her drool out with it, releasing a stream that ran from her bottom lip down her chin. The back of her head pressed against the gritty wall. Jabar groaned with her intensity, thrilling her in turn that she could bring him such pleasure.
She needed cock so badly. Her hand slipped to between her legs, rucking up her long
kanga
skirt. She wore nothing underneath. What would be the point in that? Her nether lips were swollen, bald, and wet. She spread them and plunged two fingers into her sodden cunt, pumping them to the rhythm of her sucking.
He was going to rut her so good.
"By the ancestors!" Jabar cried.
Wait... Was he coming? Already?
She couldn't see his face because he still had his hands on his head. But he released her and started to run out of the alley the way they'd come. Jabar almost fell on his face, pants still bunched around his ankles. He caught himself, and yanked up his trousers as he hopped away.
"What in the infernal hells!" Suwarya shouted after him. "Jabar!"
Still squatting against the wall, she glanced down. Her breasts hung free, glistening with saliva. Her kohl was probably running. She wiped her mouth.
"What an ass!" Suwarya stood up.
Something rustled, further down the alley.
A slender, naked woman crouched there, at the end of the passage.
Well... perhaps not a woman, because, as she shuffled forward, she moved more like a monkey. And not naked either, because she wore a slit-mouthed brass mask with bulging eye-sockets. Reedy bristles concealed her groin and her head around the edges of the mask. But she did have breasts, small and slightly pointy. And...
A cock, the likes of which Suwarya had never seen, sprouted from the strange woman's groin. It was the length of Suwarya's foot. No... now it was the size of her forearm.
Suwarya went rapidly through a range of emotions - affronted, confused, astounded, frightened, and yes, aroused. The jutting cock pointed directly at her sex, which, though still covered by her skirt, was quite wet and maddeningly empty.
The naked creature spoke, its voice abrasive and unintelligible. The inflection sounded like a question.
That was a very nice
popo
.
The strange being sidled forward. Its scent was like ash, as was the grayish tone of its skin.
Suwarya sagged against the wall, her knees giving until she squatted once again. As the bulbous head of the massive cock prodded against her lips, a reasoned voice inside told her this was no woman, and no man, and that she should have run away just like Jabar.
That inner voice fell silent the moment she opened her mouth, stretching her jaws wide, and let the plum-sized tip slide over her tongue. Taloned hands held her head in place, and the creature gently began to thrust into her mouth.
Like in a dream, Suwarya heard the murmur of passersby only a few paces away. The steady wood-on-wood beat of mortar and pestle, the call of the water-sellers. Meanwhile, she gagged on the cock that nudged deeper and deeper into her gullet. Her spit streamed yet again down her chin and neck, sluicing into the deep valley between her bare breasts.
She was not letting this one get away.
The creature seemed to have the same idea. It kept saying the same phrase. It sounded like the word for "rutting" in the pidgin dialect of Trade Kan. It slowly drew its shaft from where it had lodged against Suwarya's tonsils.
As she gasped for breath, Suwarya untied her kanga skirt and tossed it away. She was naked from her pushed-up halter to her sandals, baring her nut-brown skin and drooling slit to the sun.
The strange being grasped her hand. It laid down on its back in the dried mud, continuing to babble.
Suwarya squatted over the prone creature, facing its feet, idly observing that they resembled something more human than its hands or masked face. The bristly reeds feathered against the backs of her thighs as she lowered herself onto the stout pillar of its sex.
What, in all the infernal hells, am I doing?
She was practically dripping, the folds of her
yoni
glistening pink in anticipation. Her breath caught as the bulbous head pressed against her nether lips, and she paused there. Once it was inside her, she knew she wouldn't stop.
She had come here to rut one of the Stone Guards gang in an alleyway. Was this so much more of a risk? Despite its fearsome looking talons, the creature hadn't threatened her at all.
Suwarya's hesitation came to an end when the creature's hands slipped around her waist and drew her down. The head of its cock shoved between her swollen lips. Suwarya let loose an involuntary groan, already feeling fuller than she had ever been. The pressure on the tender folds of the opening to her cunt was divine. She could almost sit like that, with just the head inside her. But her body weight slowly, inexorably, forced her descent. Waves of pleasure gently shook her.
She stared in amazement as she sank, the massive shaft spreading her, stretching her. Suwarya's thighs trembled. Her vision grew dim, her entire existence reduced to her core, crammed full as it was. The ripples of bliss she was feeling became steadily more intense.
Finally, she wasn't sinking. She couldn't take any more. Her weight came to rest, even though the tree trunk base of the creature's massive cock was still exposed beneath her, smearing with her cream.
