The Life and CFNM Times of Herbert Smith Ch. 04

Outside on the patio something else was going on. A bunch of squealing young girls were masturbating Rapper Joe as he sat cross-legged on a lounge chair. Herbert counted seven of them, each with her hand wrapped around his big prick, stroking him furiously while the object of their attention was half buried in his mouth. Their mothers encouraged them with cheers and praise as they forced him to explode his hot semen into his mouth.

"Make him swallow all of it!" one woman cried.

"We're going to!" one of the girls replied, as she grabbed his huge ball sack and squeezed hard.

At that same moment, the man let out a huge groan and erupted into this own mouth. The girls screamed with laughter as they watched rivulets of sperm cascade down from his lips.

"Keep stroking his cock, Alice!" another woman said, excitedly.

At last the man could swallow no more and the girls directed the blasts of cum to his face, coating the entire area from his chin to the top of his head. After it was over the girls reacted as if they had won a great victory.

Herbert witnessed many more acts of sexual perversion committed at the hands of these wanton, but oddly enticing, dominant young females. Even Frederick and William had become the unwitting victims of their inventive sexual pranks; each used as nothing more than a source for their unending amusement. Every now and then a tremendous shout would arise from some part of the house as the men were brought to orgasm by some means or another. It was all he could do to keep his own composure.

And then, just as he was going to fetch himself a drink, a very large figure of a man, completely covered from head to toe in the wrappings of an Egyptian mummy, came striding into the main room of the house from the patio, where he was greeted by shouts and cheers from the women. Following close behind him was a crowd of young girls who had saw him approach from the front yard, all of whom were giggling and laughing uncontrollably.

He was extremely tall, about seven feet or so, and even in his odd costume, he bore the regal bearing of a king. But what had attracted everyone's attention was the huge appendage that protruded from his genital area. It was wrapped up in the same white linen as his costume and was fastened to his body by several Velcro strips. There were small slits in his face where his eyes and mouth should have been and around his neck he wore a necklace from which hung a silver ankh.

Herbert saw the man coming straight toward him and, seeing his stepmother and Iris not far away, shouted to them to get their attention.

"Who the hell is that?" he exclaimed.

As soon as Constance and Iris laid eyes on the man, they broke out laughing.

"Oh, my God!" his stepmother cried. "Look who it is!"

The crowd of girls swarmed around the giant man, both fascinated and delighted at both his height and the size of his encased member.

"Is that real?" Missy asked the mummy, pointing to his appendage.

"Yes, lady," came the deep-voiced reply. "It is real."

This caused all the girls to squeal.

"How big is it?" Gina asked him.

"Erect or flaccid?"

"Erect."

"Two feet long," he replied, as he stopped a few feet in front of Constance and bowed.

"Don't pester our guest, girls," Constance said to the excited crowd. "He will reveal himself to you in a little while. Now go back out onto the patio because that's where all the fun is going to start in just a few minutes. Go ahead. I'll be right there."

Amidst a chorus of moans the girls reluctantly did as they were told, their mothers reinforcing Constance's demands.

"It is so good to see you...er, but I can't see you my dear king!"

The giant man and Constance embraced and kissed each other.

"Now that I have played my little Halloween trick on the ladies, I think it is time I take off this mask."

Grabbing the top part of the costume with both hands, he yanked the headpiece off with one graceful movement, revealing a handsome man of about thirty-three years old.

"It has been so many years dear lady—so many years!" the king said, studying Constance's beautiful face.

"Too long. King Matumba, I would like to present to you my stepson Herbert and my good friend Iris."

"I am delighted to meet both of you," the man said, shaking both their hands very warmly.

"Herbert and Iris, King Matumba is the chief of the Maasai tribe in Kenya. He has been my friend for almost fifteen years. Is that right, King?"

"Yes, lady. Fifteen years this very day!"

"The King has graciously accepted my offer to come and entertain us."

"I think that's wonderful," Iris said to the King. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Yes, lady. A glass of cold water would be fine. Thank you."

"You came alone, as I instructed?" Constance asked him.

"Yes. No retinue this time. As you said, we cannot afford to draw attention."

As Iris left to fetch the water, Constance shook her head at the King and laughed.

"I had forgotten how bad your English used to be! But look at you now! You speak better than a diplomat!"

The King laughed heartily.

"Years of practice, lady. English is not an easy language to learn. But it is the language of the world—at least for today."

"May I ask how you two met?" Herbert said to the King.

"Your stepmother, gracious lady that she is, was part of a group of relief workers from your Red Cross who came to Kenya to help the Maasai people when we were fighting a war against a neighboring tribe. She saved my mother's life, and for that I am eternally thankful."

"It was the best thing I ever did with my life my sweet King," Constance said, taking his large hand in hers.

The King did not reply, but Herbert could see that his eyes had become a little misty.

As Constance and the King talked, Herbert learned that Matumba was a warrior prince, a leader among his people. He had been born into royalty but his father's role as tribal leader had been usurped by a ruthless cousin, who had the ruler executed clandestinely when Matumba was only a young boy. The young prince had been educated by foreign missionaries, and by the time he was twenty-one he had grown to his currently imposing stature, which was matched by his equally imposing intellect and captivating charm. In time, he made powerful friends who helped him to regain his throne, and for the past ten years ruled Kenya with justice and equanimity. Herbert liked the man immensely.

"Here's your water, King," Iris said, returning with a large glass in her hand.

"Thank you dear lady," he replied, taking the glass and draining its contents in one huge gulp. "Forgive me. This costume has made me very warm."

"Do you think you can keep it on for just a few more minutes?" Constance asked him.

"Yes, lady. For you, yes."

"Well then...it's time. Let's go out onto the patio."

"You're not going to tell me what's going on are you?" Herbert asked his stepmother.

"It's a surprise. Just come with me."

He knew that it was useless to argue with her. Once she had made up her mind to do something, she couldn't be talked out of it. He dutifully followed her, Iris, and the King outside on the patio where a crowd had already assembled. The large outdoor lights had been turned on, illuminating the entire area with a lurid glow. Once all the guests were comfortably seated, Constance addressed them.

"Some of you may know my special guest and some of you may not..."

"We know who he is!" Teri exclaimed, waving at the King from her seat in the front row. "Hi, King Matumba! It's so nice to see you again!"

Both Drew and Nicole waved to the smiling King, who returned their greetings by blowing kisses at them.

"But for those of you who don't," Constance resumed, "I would like to present to you King Matumba, Maasai warrior and professional entertainer!"

The King bowed respectfully as the applause washed over him.

"For our finale tonight, I have asked King Matumba, along with my stepson Herbert, to pay their respectful submission to all the wonderful Sisters, and soon to be Sisters, with the full relinquishment of their male seed. Each man will milk himself completely dry for our entertainment. Gentlemen, you may proceed."

Herbert and the King looked at each other as if expecting something more. But Constance simply took her place next to Iris in the front row of seats, smiling gracefully.

"Music, Fiona!" Constance shouted to her daughter who was already prepared for what was to come.

Fiona turned on the CD player and suddenly the air was filled with the raucous sound of a thumping tribal drum beat. The King, telling Herbert to sit down for the moment, took center stage and began to swirl around the patio as if performing some kind of ritualistic dance. He was graceful and captivating in his gyrations, which made all the women shout their appreciation. When several minutes had passed, the King returned to face his audience, rocking his hips back and forth, which made the cloth appendage bounce up and down and side to side.

And then the King began to remove his Velcro fasteners. First, the top portion of his costume came off, followed by the bottom, until all that was left was a black thong and his encased penis, still held fast with the Velcro strips. The girls were cheering him on wildly, while the older women applauded and coaxed him to reveal his cock to them.

"Take it off! Take it off!" the girls chanted.

Not one to disappoint, the King reached down and removed the last of the Velcro fasteners, revealing to his awestruck audience a humongous prick that, even flaccid, hung down to his knees. The women reacted with utter joy and laughter at the sight of the King's two-foot-long prick. Herbert stood with his mouth open when he saw the behemoth, realizing that his own astounding fifteen-inch specimen was no longer the big boy on the block.

"Fuck!" he said to himself. "He really is the king!"

He saw that Amy and Cecilia were laughing hysterically at the King's imposing prick, as, by this time, was everyone else. Now he understood why Constance wanted the big black man to entertain: he was going to provide the Sisters with a spectacular climax to the party, and Herbert was there for exactly the same reason.

"Now, now, ladies," the King began. "Calm down. I am going to show you something."

The King stood proudly in front of the young girls, most of whom had occupied the first few rows, and asked some of them to help him get erect. No sooner had he said this than six or seven girls came running toward him reaching for his monster dick.

"That's it my darlings," he said, groaning loudly at the intrusion of their hands upon his quickly stiffening meat. "Make King Matumba nice and hard!"

Herbert was amazed at how fast the King's tool became fully erect. Within a minute he was sporting a huge erection, and he asked the girls to sit next to him as he took his place on the patio floor.

"I am going to suck my own penis," he told the girls. "What I want you to do is to stroke it while I suck it."

The girls giggled loudly and readily agreed to help the King.

"Are you going to orgasm into your own mouth?" Elise asked the giant man.

"Do you want me to?" he asked her in turn.

"No. I want to see your semen shoot up into the air!"

"Ah!" the King exclaimed. "But do you speak for all the fine young ladies?"

"She speaks for all of us!" Constance replied. "Let's see those famous fireworks of yours baby!"

The King laughed as a multitude of hands grappled with his huge cock, forcing the head and then part of the shaft into his mouth. Several other girls in the audience ran forward to sit next to their friends, cheering them on and urging the King to swallow as much of his prick as possible.

Over and over the King's head bobbed up and down as his prick was force-fed to him by the excited girls' rapidly stroking hands.

"Aren't they just wonderful?" Nicole exclaimed, as she watched Sunday give the King's balls a powerful squeeze. "Milk him dry, honey. Get all the King's cream!"

Sunday laughed when she saw the King moan with pleasure, and repeated the same action over and over again, until the enormous orange-sized testicles began to fill with sperm, moving higher to cling to the base of his towering shaft.

After a full five minutes had passed, the King once again stood up, this time his cock jutting out in front of him in all its massive glory.

"Beat if off for us, King," Cecilia said. "Surrender your sperm to the Sisters!"

This comment was greeted with a huge roar of approbation.

"No!" Gina replied. "We want to jerk him off!"

Herbert chuckled. This was the first time that Cecilia had ever lost an argument, and it made him feel surprisingly happy.

"I will do whatever the young ladies want," the King said to the audience.

"Jerk him off! Jerk him off!" cried the girls in the audience.

With that directive gravely imposed, the King graciously offered his prick to the hands of the girls. Seven pairs of hands flew up and down his pole with amazing alacrity, each girl finding a spot, however uncomfortable, for herself amongst her friends. Within minutes the King's prick was dripping copious amounts of pre-cum, which made the girls excited because they knew that he was going to ejaculate very soon.

"I give of my vital juices to you, beloved Sisters, with all due humility and respect!"

It was the last thing the King managed to say, because he was now in the throes of orgasm.

Crying out some indistinguishable epithet in the Maasai tongue, the King hurled his head backward and thrust his genitals out at the audience. The girls shrieked with joy, knowing that they had conquered the big man's huge penis.

Just as he was staring to orgasm, Elise took her thumb and tickled the sliver of sensitive flesh under the glans, which action actually served to trigger the King's eruption. As the girl watched in fascination, a giant rope of sticky white seed flew out toward the audience at great speed, actually managing to soar high over the heads of the girls in the first three rows, landing in someone's lap over twenty feet away. The audience went berserk.

Enervated by their success and at the urging of the crowd, the girls pulled on the huge organ even more ferociously, sending rope after rope of the King's milky hot sperm high up into the air. And each time a new volley was launched, the girls laughed anew, as did their friends in the audience, following each creamy trajectory with absolute delight.

The mothers were no less astounded by the voluminous jets of cum being fired their way. Herbert noticed that all of his sisters, Constance, Iris, and even Cecilia, who normally was not easily impressed, were standing to the side and out of range of the King's spurting tool, but cheering him on nonetheless. He had to laugh when he saw Cecilia duck several times to avoid getting doused with the giant's milky offering. But the important thing was, the crowd was enjoying it immensely.

As the King's orgasm subsided, his youthful worshippers released their collective grip upon him and went to clean their hands of his sperm. The giant man was greeted with a thunderous applause. As he went to mingle with the crowd he was shown great affection by the grateful women, and he returned their courtesy by treating them in the same exact fashion.

Constance now indicated with a motion of her hand that it was now Herbert's turn to perform. He gingerly walked onto the patio where the King had just stood and began to stroke his cock. All the while the driving beat of the tribal drums continued to play in the background.

Looking at all the young faces eagerly awaiting his orgasm made him feel special. All those years he had spent thinking he was a freak, simply because of an incidence of nature, no longer troubled him. He looked around him and found a sea of smiling, encouraging faces, all of them accepting him simply for who he was, and it made him smile with satisfaction. He could no longer claim to be the guy with the biggest tool in the box; that distinction had now gone to King Matumba, who, with his twenty-four-inch penis, was unchallenged champion in the meat department. But it didn't matter. He was still going to deliver a monstrous cumshot—something the women would remember as being no less impressive that the one delivered by the seven-foot-tall warrior.

As the cheers from the audience filled his head, Herbert increased the tempo of his stroking and soon felt the semen begin its inexorable journey up the tube of his shaft toward its inevitable fate. To his right sat Constance, and next to her, grinning broadly, Iris and her mother. William and Frederick sat behind them shouting like maniacs, and behind them his stepsisters and Cecilia, all of whom were laughing and jerking their fists high in the air. Teri, Drew, and Nicole sat together on his left, Elise, Emerson Rose, and Sunday sitting in between them. And filling up the rear seats were the older women, the veteran Sisters who wanted their daughters to see his humiliation, his subservience to their combined will, by allowing them to sit as close to him as possible. These young girls, the next wave of the burgeoning Sisterhood Order, now stood up and cheered Herbert on. All of them had relinquished their seats and were standing so close to him that he could reach out and touch them. Seeing their beautiful faces, so young yet so impossibly adult in demeanor, made his prick dance with utter joy. The girls knew he was about to orgasm. They always did. It was something that all females could anticipate, and it made him want to comply. His sperm was theirs to command.

Feeling no shame, no embarrassment, no vague or negative emotion of any kind, he threw his hips outward in one, quick, violent motion as his prick released a torrent of creamy white spunk straight up into the air above his head. The pleasure was so intense that he nearly fell backwards, but he caught himself just in time. The crowd erupted with joy.

He studied the faces of the cheering girls standing only a few feet in front of him. They were talking dirty to him now, just as their mothers had taught them to do in order to heighten the male climax. They laughed, joked, teased, and stuck their tongues out at him—all with the distinct purpose of increasing the pleasure of his orgasm. And it worked.

Round after round of sperm flew out of his cock and up into the air, the creamy loads landing seconds later all around him and in the hair of the screaming girls. They did not run away or cry out in disgust. They simply enjoyed the feel of his cum as if they were standing in the midst of a summer rain.How different would it have been if these were the typical girls he had grown up with,he wondered. They certainly would never have come this far. But these girls were a different breed. They were brave and lusty. They were sexually aggressive. And seeing them play with his sperm once it had landed on their bodies drove him to even greater heights of sexual bliss. By the time his orgasm had ended, he had paid a distinct tribute to the Sisterhood by virtue of shooting the biggest load of cum in his life. And the women adored him for it.

For the next hour he and King Matumba surrendered whatever sperm of theirs was left to their cum-craving audience. Four times he and the King launched multiple shots of their vital juices into the air for the enjoyment of their female superiors. Their performance had been an unqualified success.

At the end of the night when everyone but only family and a few friends remained, Cecilia caught Herbert sitting alone on the patio lost in thought. It was almost 2:00 a.m. and he was just beginning to come to terms with the events of the day.

"You and the King were really great tonight," she said to him, as she took a seat beside him.