Laraloubaye

Laraloubaye relished in her current vocation, but she was glad nevertheless when her long shift had been completed.

Working in the Fifth Core Repository of the 23rd Vice Queen of the Lusawarare Planetary Cluster, she transposed recorded holographic erotica to the MexMRM (Mind Extension Multiple Reality Matrixes – the Zoue internet) so that it could be viewed by all who could access it; some 21 trillion Zoue.

Enjoyable though it was, doing this for a solid week with no rest took its toll. It was both arousing and frustrating to spend 168 hours viewing all manner of erotica while its was being uploaded.

Though pleasuring herself to relieve the tension helped, it was no substitute for what she was truly craving – a male, preferably an Ozoollar male.

Laraloubaye is Zoue (pronounced “Zooway”), one of some 21 trillion brown and black-skinned woman who are genetically engineered offshoots of humanity some two million years removed.

Like the rest of what was once known as “humanity” the Zoue had dispersed, and had been dispersed, throughout some 370,000 to 400,000 worlds, and over one million Zoue-built space constructs throughout the universe.

During this time humanity overall had dispersed throughout over four million worlds, whereby various offshoots had mated with other life forms they had encountered, while others had chose to remain genetically pure (more or less). The Zoue were one such offshoot.

Laraloubaye was an average Zoue. Standing 14-feet tall, with an extraordinarily voluptuous figure (large, pert, full, nearly oblong breasts with large erect nipples, a medium-sized waist, a nearly unreal gravity-defying derriere shaped like a two bubbles, and long fleshy legs more like dancers’ legs); she had a rich, flawless dark-fudge complexion all over, with a beautiful ebony face of dimpled cheeks tapering down to a narrow chin, completed with full pout lips and dazzling hazel-gold eyes.

All Zoue, such as Laraloubaye, are sexually exaggerated, genetically enhanced women whose ancestors were designed to be quintessentially beautiful African women according to the West African geneticists who designed their ancestors over two million years ago.

Laraloubaye had been many things in her 508 years: a smuggler, jewelry thief, jeweler, merchant, soldier, mercenary, contract enforcer, writer, Madame, courtesan, and variations of the sort. Varying vocations and careers are normal for the Zoue. With an average life span of approximately 700 years (an evolved trait rooted in their genetic engineering) such is the norm.

Now she was a Facilitator, working in the Vice Queen’s Repository, a job that while at times tedious, provided Laraloubaye the opportunity to indulge some of her sexual passion. Like all Zoue, Laraboubaye is a thoroughgoing hedonist, a guiltless and completely uninhibited lush who indulges in every pleasure of the flesh these women of this all-female race desire.

Many, if not most Zoue spend their 700 years engaged in some sort of sexual pleasure, either by themselves (for many Zoue masturbation is preferred), each other, or with any of the 28 known genders of all the life forms the Zoue interact with.

During this particular evening, Laraloubaye wanted nothing more that to feel a warm living male organ deep up in her. Her fingers were not enough. All the various dildos and vibrators whose variety and usage the Zoue had turned into turned into a science and art was not enough.

Though the Zoue are pansexual (the Zoue have had sex with every gender they’ve encountered) – Laraloubaye herself has had sex with 15 genders (married four of them [four of 28 genders, of whom male and female are merely two of]) this woman’s pussy was aching to be set upon by a male.

She left work after bathing and perfuming in the Repository’s communal bath (a common structure throughout all Zoue pleasure cities). She was wearing a flowing, off-white caftan made of a semi-transparent fishnet mesh, and nothing else.

The Zoue had long since thrown off such habits as wearing underwear, and even clothing itself. Being the reknown eroticists and hedonists they are, the Zoue are too far, far, far too sensuous, too horny and too sexy to wear clothing (and it's too humid in Zoue cities anyway). Bodies as gorgeous as theirs, the Zoue believe, should never be covered or concealed.

Laraloubaye walked out the Repository into the torrid and sultry urban jungle, sashaying more than walking, like all Zoue. Wearing ivory-colored, open-toed high-heeled pumps hidden under the cuff of her mesh see-through caftan, her sinuous form shimmied in all the right places – her redolent and plump breasts moving back and forth, her hips sauntering right and left, and her backside bouncing like two balloons rubbing against each other.

As she and all other Zoue walk through the canyons of their ancient, epic, dark, semi-ruin cities of sacrosanct Eros and divine carnal lust, other species and genders are knowingly aroused when they see these women walking by. It turns the Zoue on knowing that others (including themselves) are turned on by their mere presence.

Laraloubaye was already aroused. Masturbating more times that she could remember during the past week didn’t lessen her urge, but increased it. (Zoue do not loose arousal after orgasms [they’re all multiply orgasmic] but continue to ever greater levels of climax until their bodies simply give out from exhaustion).

Naturally surrendering to the guttural lust that surged from the very deepest recesses of her loins, she was looking for an anonymous fuck. Not a one-night-stand (not enough for the Zoue) but a three-to-five-day-stand. No less than 70 hours of straight unadulterated sucking, fingering, licking, biting, fucking, tonguing – and whatever else and anything else her flesh and her thoroughly carnal mind desired.

Walking through and between orgy palaces, communal baths, libraries and repositories of erotic wisdom, temples of love and auto-erotica, basilica, cathedrals, voyeur chambers, strip clubs, go-go bars, houses of sustenance, courtesan salons, and erotic divination sanctums – all of what some humans of old called “pagan” erotica – Laraloubaye’s two massive clits were throbbing and pulsing as if with souls of their own.

She could feel the wetness of her pussy moisten her plump inner thighs. Her usually perpetually erect nipples were hardened more whilst brushing up against the mesh of her robe. Unlike many other Zoue, Laraloubaye resisted the strong temptation to strip down butt naked and drive her fingers up in her, pinch and pull her clitorises, and finger-fuck herself until her hand and arm was drenched in her own pleasure juice. But she had done all that before.

Laraloubaye didn’t want to do the work anymore. She wanted someone else’s finger up in her – curving upward and stroking her three G-spots. Some male’s heated body pressed up against her close enough to hear his heart (or hearts) beat, feel the pants of his erratic breath blowing across her skin, and his thick joint plowing her; opening her up and throbbing within her own temple of life.

She could nearly feel this imaginary man’s dick sliding in and out, and she wanted nothing more than to feel him loose control of his sanity, his lust, his love, his pleasure, as he unleashed his very essence into her womb.

Walking among the palaces and the temples of Zoue eroticism, she couldn’t resist the urge to run her hands down there between the openning of her robe and tease herself by gently caressing her clits with her middle finger. Laraloubaye knew how intensely horny she was when her thighs started to tremble and quiver in anticipation and lust.

The temples of music were an orgy of dancing, drinking, groping, smoking, and drinking. Nothing – nothing – was taboo anywhere where there were Zoue, least of all in the temples of music. This was where mates, lovers, or simply fuck friends were to be found – where the scandalous titillation of anonymous sex was the rule of thumb.

Into this maelstrom of flesh did Laraboubaye dive into with the wantonness of the parched desert dweller’s thirst for water and with the salacious wickedness of temples prostitutes of the ancient and hoary temples of Aphrodite millions of years before.

She felt, rubbed, groped, stroked, jerked, rubbed up against, fingered, kissed, tongued and fondled her way through the nearly inseparable masses.

Zoue, Ozoollar, Slink, Rendara, Mamdou Ba, Sharumba, Mendalonan, Denianae, Wuneba, Bozoum, Loussesse, the Khim, and at least 40 other life-forms – biped, triped, quardaped, the corporeal, the semi-corporeal, and the non-corporeal, and of varying genders – all were engulfed in orgiastic oceans of ecstatic movement of both body and soul.

Laraloubaye released herself and whatever inhibition (if and Zoue have any to begin with) and indulged her pussy’s desire, because by now Laraloubaye’s pussy had taken over. “She” wanted to fuck. “She” needed to fuck. “She” needed something to clench on, to stroke, caress, spasm around, throb on. Laraloubaye’s pussy ruled over her mind and body – the very essential quarters of her existence – with power and suzerainty that was feudal, absolute, unquestioned and undeniable.

Yes, Laraloubaye did fuck – she was going to give her pussy what “she” wanted. She led one of the many permanently employed “temple keepers” (indentured servants of various genders, but in this case, male) to one of the tens of small and intimate antechambers tucked away in the darkest quarters of the music temple.

Laraloubaye overwhelmed the shorter and younger, but nevertheless this deliciously well-endowed male was at eye level with her long plump bosoms. He sucked her tits and made her gasp as he gently tugged and tongued her nipples with his teeth, while she could feel his member rising from between his thighs, pointing upward with excitement and anticipation.

His dick was everything Laraloubaye wanted: thick, long and hard; so hard it twitched, bumping up against her upper inner thigh, and pointing upward just high enough to brush her pussy lips and tickle her two clitorises that had long been poking through the vulva in a state of insane stimulation.

Though she preferred being tongued first, she had been tongue fucked earlier, out in the temple’s main chamber, it was just this young man’s dick Laraloubaye wanted (though he was barely a man – given his age, but she didn’t care).

Her pussy dictated to her: “fuck this bitch now!!!” She stripped down to nothing, her only adornment being the tattoos she had accumulated while she was a mercenary, laid the nameless servant flat and spread-eagled on the warm tiled floor with his fat naked dick standing straight up and squatted down on him – almost feeling like she was impaling herself on him – splitting her open and taking him in.

That first moment of penetration Laraloubaye wished she could preserve forever. The look of sheer and raw bliss on his face, the anonymity of this fuck – it made her booty wriggle and bounce involuntarily.

His relatively diminutive body writhing on the black tiled floor, Laraloubaye rode him, bounced, screwed, ground down on him, raised her round African bubble butt all the way up, with his unbelievably pleasured pole literally vibrating and almost exiting her coochy, and she slammed back down on him.

Hearing her flesh wetly slap again his made her clits jump that sent a shock wave through her body, her upper body lurching and convulsing with her first wave of orgasmic detonation. She thought she would pass out Laraloubaye became so faint, but that Nut was too motherfuckin’ good, and like all Zoue, that first series of orgasms were not enough, but only heightened her lust for more.

Laraloubaye and this young, unknown and uncared for servant and his big young tender dick joined together in some inexplicably miasmic union of pleasure. She didn’t care about anything else: the music, the smoke of the narcotics, the aroma of the wines and sprits – none of that shit mattered to them. All she knew – all they knew – were the oceanic torrents of pleasure that was coursing through her body like the rapids cascading through the Grand Canyon.

This “bitch’s” dick felt as if it were radiating pleasure, concentric waves of joy emanating from his sweet member like an antennae sending out radar signals. And like the radar waves, this servant’s pleasure pole saturated every iota of Laraloubaye’s super-feminine form with the very needed physical joy that superseded all words, song, and any manner of communication.

Her pleasure was ethereal as it was phenomenal; as much bliss for the soul as for her nerve endings. She could have fucked this bitch’s dick forever.

His body bucked under her, his eyes rolling back in their sockets and then back front again, he wanted to cum, Laraloubaye could feel him fixing to pop his load all in her. She wanted him to. He was being fucked for all he was worth – all he was, and all he ever would be – the fucking that some kings would (and have) willingly handed over their domains for. Yes she didn’t need to be pregnant again, but at this point she didn’t give the first fuck.

She wanted his Nut – all of it – all up in her three wombs. Laraloubaye was simply going from one level of orgasm to another. She could never count how many she had, nor did she care to, or have the concentration to. It was simply joy that mattered, yet this most recent wave of orgasm hit her body like a diesel-powered jackhammer, as her pussy squeezed this servant’s dick like a ringer. Her control over him was that of a vice.

Laraloubaye’s body gave out, and he wanted to Nut off in her as if she was the only woman in the universe, and they had to populate it.

He took out his dick, and what a sight to see: his thickness drenched in her juices, dripping off the tip, twitching and throbbing, so tender and so sensitive that it almost looked s if to merely blow her breath on it he would spurt his juice everywhere. Laraloubaye squatted down in front of him, holding him up by his hips, and sucked her own juices off him.

Like all Zoue, Laraloubaye always had the urge to taste herself – especially off of the dick that caused her insides to liquefy so much. She could feel him getting ready to cum, but she didn’t want it in her mouth, She wanted his Nut in her.

Laraloubaye now moved to the various silk brocade upholstered beds, sofas, love seats and barka loungers that were ubiquitous in any temple antechamber. She cast her gloriously fleshy legs wide open – with her feet nearly touching her head (not bad for a woman of 508 years, Laraloubaye looked no more than 40 years of age), She fingered her cunt, pinched her clit, made her body jump some more with an orgasmic aftershock.

...left you hangin’?

Read more in part II – whenever I get around to writing it...