Copyright © 2012, Surt, ALL Rights Reserved.
Knowledge of prior Tabootopia chapters is not essential for this story but it is recommended. Anyone involved in anything sexual is at least eighteen-years-old. Feedback is always appreciated and replied to. Thanks for reading and enjoy! 🙂 The Celebrity Templates are:
Amanda Bynes is Regina Cestin
Kirsten Davis is Claire Cestin
Madeline Zima is Vivian Keentucker
Brenda Song is Soyo Banks
Tracy-Ann Oberman is Vera Banks
Susan Sarandon is Miss Bolovey
Bebe Neuwirth is Ruth Vanderbosch
Erin Sanders is Kelly Vanderbosch
Chisato Shoda is Yukari Takahashi-Kwon
Shohreh Aghdashloo is Farah Azim
The founders of Tabootopia had small ambitions. All they wanted was a place where like-minded people could live and find peace — while also having rampant amounts of sex, of course. Their idea become reality and that reality grew to be larger than they could ever dream of: Modern Tabootopia has six million residents, five distinct sectors, and growing larger by the day. And the best example of how far this nation of incest has come is the sprawling urban metropolis of New Babylon: The Blessed Sinners’ Playground!
Getting to New Babylon — and in particular the city’s university — was the goal of five particular teenagers, all of whom were from the suburban Tabootopia town of Our Haven. We join these teenagers as they all go to declare their entry into the university via the official Our Haven registry official, Farah Azim.
Now Farah, who was also a high school teacher, had to juggle her new responsibilities with her demanding day job, which wasn’t problem as she was more than accommodating to every prospective student that came her way — no matter what hot, sticky situation she would be in when the kids came-a-knocking. Indeed Farah embodied the true spirit of Tabootopia because despite all her responsibilities, duties, and work, she always found time to have some good ol’ fashioned, down and dirty sex.
We join Farah on this hot Sunday morning, inside her house, with the aforementioned teenagers sitting on her living room couch, happily waiting as Farah finished up her Sunday morning ritual…
“Ohhhh yes darling, yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes!” she moaned from out of her bedroom, her raspy, deep, seductive voice a soothing and erotic tune that floated in the air and went into the teens’ chests, Farah’s pleasured moans a high-powered wakeup call to their respective teenage libidos.
“Ohhhh! Ohhhh! Wonderful, oh so, oh, hmm, slap my behind, please, please.”
Whack! Farah’s husband Jean met with his wife’s request.
“Oh!” she squealed, “Oh my dear, excellent. Oh one more, please, please…Oh!”
Seated on the living room couch, excited, short, slim, Swedish student Björn was letting his natural inclinations take over.
“Hmmm! I like, I like! Her voice, umm, sounds so much, ahhh, deeper, deeper from behind the door, yes!” he said as his hand reached down his skinny jeans.
Seated next to Björn was his friend Daniel, a mocha-skinned, plain-faced, dark-haired American teenager. Daniel nudged his masturbating chum on the shoulder.
“Björn, you know I’m okay with whatever weird things you do, but Kelly is –“
“Björn! Stop it!” interrupted Kelly, the petite, bespectacled girlfriend of Daniel. “Don’t beat off when I’m sitting right here.”
“Oh I’m sorry; this is just, umm, special circumstances. I think, I’ll, umm, go nearer to the door,” Björn stood up, walked nearer to where the action was, and spotted that the adjunct bedroom door was wide open. He looked inside.
“Sami!” said Björn.
“Hey Björn!” replied Sami, son of Farah, “What’s up, man? Come on in, join me, you can hear more from this room.”
“Oh thanks, Sami!”
Now with room on the couch, Kelly had a request for her boyfriend:
“Daniel, nudge over.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because!” she titled her head to the left, pointing out the two Sapphic lesbian teens that were kissing and groping each other with a fiery, red-hot passion.
Daniel nodded knowingly. “Why? They’re such nice girls.”
Daniel was immediately contradicted when the girl on top, a tall athletic Korean-American, grabbed her lover by the neck and screamed into her ear: “Say you’re my cunt-sucking bitch!”
The other girl smiled and shrugged. “You’re MY cunt-sucking bitch!”
The top-girl grinned, then rolled her hand into a fist and punched her lover’s vagina. The two engaging in this fisticuffs/lesbian lustfest were, of course, Tammie Kwon and the well-chested, frowny teen that is Regina Cestin. The two quickly refrained from violence-based sex and went back to exploring their bodies, their hands cupping each other’s breasts, Regina’s red lips smacking against Tammie’s thin velvet mouth, their sweat and saliva mixing together into a tasty cold drink known as Unfiltered Curious Delight.
Meanwhile, knowing she had a full day ahead, Farah looked to the finish bostancı escort line. “Oh yes dear! Yes! Yes! Hmmm, my behind, please slap it, please, please, please, put it in deep, yes… oh! Oh! Thrust deeper, please, ohh… Ohhhhh!…yes! Ahhh! I’ve-I’ve been such a bad girl: please, slap my bottom, please.”
“Oh you’re such a naughty, naughty girl!” shouted Jean. “You need another spank!” Slap, whack, slap! Husband Jean spanked and groped his wife’s butt.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes darling, oh dear, oh, ohhh, hold me, hold me, I, oh, oh, OH!”
Regardless of what everyone else in the house was doing, they all stopped, listened, and felt it: this house was floating in the symphonic sounds of Farah and Jean’s tantric lovemaking; the manic grunting and soothing groaning engulfing the thoughts and moods of everyone involved, growing bigger, brighter, as they went faster, faster, faster!…And then…silence. The same eerily calm silence one hears before a lighting strike. Then, a second later…the thunder arrived: The house shaking, the grunting turning into growling, the groaning becoming shouting, the bed frame ramming against the wall with a shattering wallop, the bedsprings being crushed into small metallic fragments, the very floor trembling, all from under the dominant mountain that was this earth-shattering, cross-continent, boundary destroying, early rising, hot, sticky, wood knocking, grass wet, down and dirty, how it’s done, how it always has been, and how it always will be, from Mesopotamia to Tabootopia, it’s Sunday morning — and Mom and Dad are fucking.
The parents went at it with a furious pace, Jean slamming himself in with hard, deep strokes, Farah’s groans tinged with twitching yelps, this proud mother openly and willingly submitting herself to her man. This passionate lovemaking furore only lasted for mere seconds, the end signalled by a loud, deep, cavernous moan from the distinguished lady:
Everyone heard it, everyone felt it: Farah’s moan echoed deep within everyone’s chests, going right into their souls, this cry signalling the finish of the couple’s early morning weekend special.
After Farah cummed, the teens remained silent, unmoving, having just got a lesson in what constitutes a really healthy breakfast. After that momentary silence, Farah took some deep, deep breaths, and then addressed the waiting teens with a timid hush:
“Give me a moment please; I just need to freshen up.”
The teens quickly cleaned themselves up, got seated, and waited as Farah got dressed.
Björn rushed out of Sami’s room, pulling his pants up as he sat on the couch. “Umm, ahh can’t wait to see her!”
“Me too, me too!” said Daniel.
“Eww, Daniel,” said Kelly, “That’s gross: she’s old enough to be your mom.”
“I wish!” he said in all sincerity.
Finally, she came. First, peering open the bedroom door, then, slamming her bare feet against the wooden floor, her wonderfully curvaceous body covered in a shimmering black robe, her olive skin radiating with an after-sex glow, her raven hair a wild sexy mess, her thick legs dripping with remnants of her husband’s climax, and yet, still, she exuded effortless grace as she walked over to the seated group, she, the age-defying Persian beauty that is Farah Azim.
Farah sat across from the prospective students, put on her glasses, grabbed the nearby clipboard, and spoke in her unmistakable raspy accented voice.
“Good morning everyone, I apologise for the delay,” she paused to wipe some cream off her lips. “Ah, let me see,” she looked at each student, pointing with her pen as she went along from left to right, “Tamara Kwon, Regina Cestin, Kelly Vanderbosch, Daniel Nova, and Björn Jakobsson. That’s everyone, so, hmm, you five will make this journey together?”
“Yes,” they said.
“Using which means of transport?”
“An RV,” said Daniel, “Tammie, Regina and Kelly’s families brought it together.”
“I see, hmm, spreading the costs, yes, that’s quite smart. All right, let me get through this legal disclaimer.” She spoke quickly: “All Our Haven students who wish to join our university must go through a journey, a journey which has been deemed necessary. They will go through their hometown of Our Haven, towards Gaudium, and through the unexplored region of Tabootopia known only as Sector Three. New Babylon University is not responsible for any danger and possible harm to participants of this journey. Only students who produce a token which proves completion of this journey will be allowed into our institution…Any questions?”
“Nope,” they all said firmly.
“Good, now please hand me the forms and it will all be finished.”
They each grabbed their official declarations and signed them with no hesitation. Then, just as they were all finished, Sami came tearing out of the hallway, rushing into the living room.
“Hey everybody!” he was clad only in his small tight boxers, his body covered in sweat.
“Hey Sami,” replied Tammie. ümraniye escort bayan “You look fierce, that body looks tight.”
“Thanks, been using those tips you told me.”
“You know him?” asked Regina, she surprised that her girlfriend was actually on friendly terms with someone other than her.
“Yeah? You thought I had no friends? Bitch: you gonna pay,” Tammie dove into her lover’s lips, they casually making-out, lost in a trail of wet lesbian delights.
Sami turned his attention to his mother: “Ohh, you were so good with the sex, if-if you don’t mind me saying. The spanking was so hot, too. I jerked off a lot, Mom.”
Farah nodded uninterestedly. “Hmm, hmm, good, good boy.”
“Hey, Sami,” said Daniel. “You coming to New Babylon University, too?”
“What? No way! Actual school work? Screw that, I’m going to be a bitch-boy! Yeah! There is this agency that wants small, youngish-looking hairless guys, and all these guys do is pleasure older women! I love older women — no offense, Mom,” he said as he winked at her. “This agency freaked out when they saw me, they said I’m perfect for them; they’ve never seen someone my age with a body like this! See? No hair at all!” He rubbed his hands over his lean chest. “Look how trim I got, some light definition right here. This is what I was born to do: being a bitch-boy! Yeah!”
Kelly was at first weirded out by this near-nude sweaty tanned boy, but found his 5’3 frame unimposing enough to give her honest opinion.
“You’re tiny, ya, you’re a cute kid, you got the whole ‘touch me, it feels wrong but it feels good’ vibe going on. You going to be wearing that stuff over there?” she said referring to a pair of oversized sunglasses and a bright purple baseball cap.
“Yeah, gonna look so cool in that.”
Kelly shook her head. “No, no, this, this right here? Works. Keep it simple, that’s how you should play it. Hmm, if you want an outfit, I say go with a simple dress shirt, plus some slacks, tight slacks, let them wanna grab you, want to touch you, hold you. Yeah, that will work, you got the body to pull that off.”
Farah nodded happily while checking off the forms. “I’m so proud you found your purpose and direction, Son.”
Sami smiled while pointing at his crotch. “Proud enough to… finish me?”
Farah put down her clipboard, took her glasses off, and sighed. “…Hmm, I have a minute or two, but I’m only rubbing you through those little shorts, let your ejaculation go in there so the floor won’t be a mess. Come on, come now.”
He ran over to his mother, put his crotch on the armrest, and shivered like a naked wet Eskimo with a cold.
“Ohhhh! Mom! Ohhhhh, come on, come on…please! Ohhhh, Mom!”
Farah put her delicate hand on her son’s rubbery penis, the red-hot cloth fabric immediately filling her hand with exuberant boy sweat. Farah squeezed her son’s crotch, giving the gentlest of happy tugs, making a delightful rubbery squish as she clasped on tightly.
“Ahh! Ahh! Mom!”
His mother’s fingers started their play: Her hand twitched digit by digit, poking, prodding her son’s cloth-covered instrument. Farah played her son like a flute, fingers in, out, giving her son both hard and soft pokes and prods. This intensely powerful pressured-filled taboo pleasure was making little Sami sweat machinegun bullets, his mother with her fingers around the trigger, squeezing his full, locked piece.
“Ah! Ah! AHHH! Mom!”
Inside Sami’s shorts, the heat was beyond intense, the waves of scorching warmth having made his swollen instrument diamond-hard, it glistening and positively boiling as his mother kept her thunderous pace going.
“Mom! Mom! Mom!”
Farah went faster, using her wrist to add more torque. Then, her thumb came into play: first, she ran the end of it down her son’s piping hot shaft, then, got it to the top, using the tip of her thumb to gently tickle her son’s foreskin.
“That good?” she asked.
He could only nod.
“Good, good boy.”
Farah added another dose of taboo delight: with her thumb on her boy’s tip, she twirled it around, twirling her thumb in a soft circular motion, spinning, spinning it around, adding more pleasure to his already-overloaded system, churning her boy’s cum into a thick, hard cream.
“Mom! Oh Mom, Mom! Mom!”
Sami felt his whole body reaching a fever pitch, his sweat so profuse that it made the floor damp. He felt like his chest was about to burst from the vast incestual bliss, his mother’s ever-expert hand lifting him to a new, chilly plateau.
“Mom! Mom! Oh my God! MOM!”
As much as Sami enjoyed his mother’s hand tricky, as much as he loved every bit of it, from the spongy-soft sounds, to the gasps of his seated friends, to his mother’s overwhelmingly loving caress, yet, despite all the immense delight, he was unable to hold back any further, his legs buckling, his heart feeling like it was about to explode into a million little pieces.
“Mom, Mom! I can’t kartal escort — uhhhh!”
Sensing the kill, Farah increased the pressure, turning up the heat to fiery, inferno-like levels, going harder and harder with each passing second: harder, faster, harder, faster, harder, faster.
For the finish, sexpert Farah clamped down hard on her boy’s cock, and squeezed, squeezed with all her might, remembering a little trick her Iranian mother had taught her: Farah placed her thumb over the tip of her son’s cock, and pushed down hard on his foreskin, forcing back his bubbly release.
Farah made sure to hold on tight, very tight, digging her nails into the cloth, pushing her boy’s limits to the most perverse levels. She looked at her son’s face to see if he was ready: he was: his face was beetroot red.
“Okay, Sami, hold still.” Farah shook her boy’s penis, using all the power of her motherly might. Due to her decades of experience, she could feel her son’s cum rising to the surface, knowing blast off was coming hard and fast — but, ever the professional, Farah wanted to add a little cherry on top: She puckered her lips and planted the softest of kisses on her son’s rock-hard cock.
“OHHHHH, MOM!” he screamed outloud as every fibre in his body rumbled with massive tremors of delight.
“Okay Sami, here it comes,” she looked in his eyes, gave him a warm smile, and then, let go as it came roaring out of his trembling body.
Like that, Sami’s light red shorts had just added several shades of black. He stepped back, his breath slow, his knees weak, his penis twitching like an escaped salmon.
“Hmm, anytime dear,” Farah grabbed her son by the back of his neck, gently pulled him down, and planted a tender motherly kiss on his cheek. Farah then turned Sami around, and slapped his bare back.
“Go on now, take a shower.”
“Okay, Mom…okay.” Sami stood there, frozen, stuck in a sexified state of mass pleasure.
Björn stood up, stiff as a plank. “Umm, ahh Sami, may I join you? Miss Azim, I really want to, umm, talk to him about this, ahh, experience he just had. May I, please?”
“Please, please, feel free,” she replied.
Just then, Farah’s husband, toned, hairless, grey-haired, tanned, Frenchman Jean, rushed out of the bedroom, completely naked.
“Farah!” he held her shoulders, kissed her on each cheek, got on one knee and kissed her mature ripe lips.
“My love, the sex was magnificent, as always,” he gave her another loud, wet kiss on the lips, “Hmm, I’m so lucky to have you. You, you are so smart, so sexy, such a magnificent woman.”
Ice Queen Farah blushed like a prepubescent school girl. “Hmm, thank you so much, thank you.”
Jean smiled, kissed her again, held her hand and peppered it with kisses. “Hmm, if only you weren’t so busy, oh my love, we’d be in the bedroom all day, all night! — Oh, company? Hmm, of course, of course a gorgeous woman like yourself is with gorgeous boys and girls, yes.” Jean then spotted his stepson. “Ah! Sami, my boy, you masturbated?”
“Mom, Mom did me…it was…amazing.”
“We’re going in the shower,” said Björn.
“I’ll join too, come, let’s go!” he stood up, put his arms around the boys and walked with them to the shower.
Farah looked happily at her son and husband. “Hmm, I am so blessed, so blessed…You kids are more than welcome to stay, please make yourselves at home, but, if you’ll excuse me, I have some more business to attend to,” she stood up and went to her bedroom.
Kelly, having just seen all that, felt a tad bemused.
“Daniel, I’m okay with sitting next to these two passive-aggressive lesbians, and I’m fine with having seen a mom jerk off her son…But…did I just see a naked Frenchman take a Swedish and Iranian boy to the shower with him?”
“What? That’s new to you?”
One month later…
It was the day before the group of five left Our Haven and went onward into the greater areas of Tabootopia. It was a nice sunny morning, with four members of the group dubbed ‘The International Lovers of Sex, Style and Sleep’, Regina, Daniel, Kelly and Björn, along with friends of the Inter-Lovers, Vivi and Soyo, all sat around a table, eating breakfast at a trendy diner.
“I’m so sad you’re leaving,” said a sad, pouting Vivi. This tall, brown-haired, sweet-faced, adorable teen cutie was wearing a long white t-shirt which had “I Hug Babies” written in bold black lettering.
“Yeah, Regina, wassup with you bailin’ on us!?” asked Soyo, a short, tanned Asian girl that was wearing a tight grey dress, she masking her sadness with her loud New Jersey attitude.
Regina replied with a shrug. That part of her routine was still intact, but, during the month, her look had gone through a radical change: gone was the long brown hair, plain shirts and mom jeans, this new Regina Cestin was much more stylish: she had a cropped jet-black hairstyle, wore figure-enhancing tight black tank tops, plus, the piece de résistance, she had a lace red thong peeking out of her chic blue jeans.
“You know, you can come with me,” said Regina with a little added huskiness to her voice.