Cultural Shock - Sex Stories

Cultural Shock

... up and down, slurping as much of the digit as

my tongue could reach until it discharged a few squirts against the roof of my mouth. I swallowed politely, then did the same with all the other fingers and all the fingers of my classmates. A line formed to suck and masticate my nipples when I was working on the last one. I had a big, saliva-dripping mouth on each breast and it still took hours to get through everyone. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the Romian greeting. They will need to understand someday that it feels demeaning to Earth women.

The lesson was all in Romian even though I was told the teachers knew rudimentary English. The only reason I knew they were talking about human nutrition was because of all the pictures of hamburgers and pies that came up on the screen. I was too full of greeting milk to find any of them appetizing. In the middle of the lesson, a few English words took me by surprise and I realized the teacher was talking to me. “Enter and exit connected. True or False?” He was pointing at his mouth. That’s how I understood he was talking about the digestive system being one long passage.

“Technically yes... True.” I nodded to make sure I was understood. “Amazing. How long? Number.”

“I don’t know exactly... Very long,” was my answer, and I zigzagged a finger across my abdomen.

“Amazing. We measure.”

“I don’t see how you...” but then my mouth froze. I couldn’t finish my sentence. I hate when they take over my body like that with ...

... telekinesis or brain wave remote control or whatever, especially without asking. It’s one thing to use it to guide me to through their maze of a school, but forcing me to strip in the front of the class then bend me over a glass desk crosses a universal line in my opinion.

Their fingers extend. I didn’t know that. I wish I never knew that. The tip of a finger (I’m so familiar with their shapes by now that I can tell you it was the index) circled my anus while the thumb and middle finger spread the cheeks of my pale butt, coating the apprehensive rim with their wetness. It really sucks to be completely aware of what is happening to you but unable to show the slightest resistance or even say no.

When the teacher thought my butt was ready (as if it could ever be ready for something like this), he plunged inside like a burrowing worm. I felt every inch of that long, reverse trek through my digestive system. I felt him struggle to expand the entrance of my small intestine, to round difficult curves, to penetrate sphincters that weren’t used to things coming from that side. Every time he would tell me “Amazing,” as if this was a fun learning experience for both of us.

I refused to believe the human body allowed a foreign object, especially one so thick, to go all the way through. That was until the glossy fingertip popped out of my throat, ejaculating... well not ejaculating but, you know, finger-discharging a whole cup of salty yolk.

“Amazing. Both ways?” He gave me back ...