Lara Lindstrom’s world was torn apart when she came home and found her husband Larry masturbating to a DVD of Deep Throat.
This might not seem such a cataclysmic event until you learn that Lara and Larry were stalwarts in the Flee from Filth crusade. When not praying for the souls of perennial perverts and maniacal masturbators they door-knocked to raise awareness of the threat of pornography.
Lara was very good at door-knocking. She was so sweet and charming. Women would listen patiently to what she had to say, whether they agreed with it or not, because they didn’t want to be rude to someone so good-natured. And those men who didn’t agree with what she had to say would still listen to her because she had rosy cheeks, a freckled nose, full pink lips, blonde pigtails and a shapely figure only partly hidden by her modest summer dress. They would nod in agreement as she told them that porn was the biggest problem in the world at the moment and they would shake their heads and tut as she explained that men who looked at porn sometimes demanded sex from their wives more than once a week, and all the time they were storing her up in their spank banks.
And Lara adored her husband Larry. Larry always wore suits and carried himself with great authority. It was he who had convinced her of the dangers of pornography and fired her up for the task of carrying this message to the world. She would often count her blessings that he had been there to save her from her base nature. For what else could explain the fact that she couldn’t actually see anything wrong with sex? It had to be explained to her that God thought it was dirty, and God knew best.
But then she came home to their apartment in New York City to find Larry with his pants around his ankles and his hand wrapped around his stiff cock. On their big screen television Linda Lovelace was doing an impersonation of Godzilla swallowing a submarine. Her lips were sliding down over a huge fat penis until they rested on it’s owner’s pubic hair. Larry was groaning as he stroked his prick.
“I don’t understand,” said Lara. “Won’t God be upset? Isn’t that dirty?”
“Oh, Jesus!” exclaimed Larry, desperately trying to shove his hard-on back into his underpants and find the television remote.
“I must be a really bad person,” Lara confessed. “Because that looks like fun to me. Both what she is doing and what you were doing.”
“It is fun,” Larry moaned. “That’s what makes it all so hard.”
“Yes,” agreed Lara. “I saw that it was hard.”
“I don’t mean that,” Larry tried to explain. “I had a lapse. One of the men on whose door I knocked repented of his sinful ways and insisted on handing over his pornography collection for me to destroy. But I couldn’t resist looking at it. And the devil possessed my penis.”
“Would it make you happy if I sucked on your penis like that lady was doing?” Lara wanted to know.
“Don’t even speak of such a thing,” Larry begged. “It would make me the happiest man in the world, for now, but I would burn in Hell later.”
“I wouldn’t want that,” Lara whimpered. “I want everyone to be happy. Why does God have to be such a bastard telling us we can’t enjoy sex as much as we want, like in those movies.”
“Blasphemer!” cried Larry. “I will never win this battle with the sins of the flesh if I have to live with a wife who would be willing to suck my penis.”
And so Lara, her mind a maelstrom of conflicting desires, ran off into the night. She walked and walked, all night long, and as the dawn rose the next day she realised that there was no alternative but to return to her home town of Pleasant Valley and the reassuring arms of her parents.
At first Clive and Karen Browne were happy to have their daughter back with them, even though they were unhappy to hear that her marriage was not going well. But, fairly soon after arriving back in Pleasant Valley, Lara began to exhibit some very strange and troubling behaviour.
One morning Gary Stewart, the owner of a the local bookstore, was distracted from his breakfast of bacon and eggs by a knock on the front door. When he opened it he found Lara standing there in jeans and a t-shirt and with a big smile on her face.
“Hey, Lara,” he said. “I didn’t know you were back in town. What can I do for you?”
“Gary,” Lara began, her face turning suddenly serious. “There is a serious problem in this world of ours. Do you know what it is?”
“No,” replied the mystified Gary. “What is it?”
“Not enough guys are getting their cocks sucked,” Lara declared.
“I beg your pardon!?!” cried Gary, looking over his shoulder and hoping that his wife was not in earshot.
“Not having your cock sucked regularly can lead to nervous tension,” Lara told him. “But don’t worry, I’m here to suck your cock for you.”
“You can’t do that!” he exclaimed, now sure that his wife would appear any minute.
“What’s the matter?” asked Lara, suddenly turning hostile. “Am I not good enough for you?” And then she slapped his face hard and kneed him in the nuts.
* * *
“This is just a phase she is going though,” explained Doctor Zeitgeist, the expensive psychiatrist hired by Mr. and Mrs. Browne. “Catching her husband masturbating after having been indoctrinated by him into a sex-negative ideology put Lara in what we call a double bind. She didn’t feel she could abandon what her husband had taught her to believe, and yet she couldn’t continue to promote it if she doubted his sincerity. Their crusade gave her a meaning in her life, but her sexuality also demands to be expressed. So now she has found a delusional escape route by turning sex into a crusade.”
“How can we get her to stop?” asked Mr. Browne.
“Oh, we mustn’t do that,” Doctor Zeitgeist warned him. “If we were to try to fight against her delusion she might become embattled and thus stuck in this phase of her recovery. For that is what it is, a process of working through her feelings as she moves towards a state of wholeness.”
“But she’s knocking on the doors of all of the men in town offering to s… er, orally service them,” pointed out a distraught Mrs. Browne.
“How have the men responded to this?” asked the doctor.
“So far, thankfully, they’ve politely declined her services,” Mr. Browne replied. “But she gets quite violent when they do.”
“This won’t do,” declared the doctor, shaking his head. “Only if she is allowed to carry out what she sees as her mission will she be able to move to the next phase of her healing.”
“Are you saying we should let our daughter suck the cocks of all the men in town!?!” cried Mrs. Browne, and then blushed a deep crimson when she realised what she had said.
It’s not so much a case of you letting her do it,” Zeitgeist responded, “as of the men of the town being persuaded to let her do it to them. This is a caring town. I’m sure that when it is explained to these men that it is for the girl’s own good they will be willing to surrender their penises into her mouth.”
* * *
“Hush now, citizens of Pleasant Valley!” yelled Mayor Bradley, as the public assembly burst into noisy uproar. “I know that this is a most unusual request. At first it may conflict with what you feel to be good and right. But a young woman’s mental health is at stake. You all know Lara, and I’m sure you care about her welfare as much as I. In the big cities people have become callous and cynical, but in small towns like Pleasant Valley the true spirit of community is still alive. And that is why I ask the men of this town, when offered an act of oral sex upon their persons from the charming Miss Lindstrom, to just say ‘Yes.’ And I would ask the wives and girlfriends of these men to remember that your men are not allowing Miss Lindstrom to gobble their seed because of any dissatisfaction with your own lovely selves but because they are true men of compassion who will not turn away from one in need, but rather open their pants, pull out their Johnsons and make a generous donation into her mouth.”
There was much heated discussion, but over the course of the hour-long meeting everyone came to accept that what the Mayor said made sense. They could see that, if they humoured Lara, eventually she would come back to the real world and either repair her relationship with her husband or find someone new with whom she could develop a healthy bond.
* * *
Three days later there was a knock on the door at the Stewart house.
Mrs. Stewart opened the door to find Lara smiling sweetly at her.
“Have you come to suck my husband’s cock?” she asked.
“Yes, Mrs. Stewart, I have,” nodded Lara. “I’m so glad that everyone seems to have grown to understand how important this crusade is.”
“I do suck my husband’s cock myself, you know,” Mrs. Stewart replied.
“And I’m sure you do a wonderful job,” Lara enthused brightly. “But I’m equally sure Gary – I may call him that, may I not? – can never have too much of a good thing.”
“Well, please do come in and make yourself at home,” responded Mrs. Stewart, as her husband came up the hall.
“Who is it dear?” he asked.
“It’s Lara Lindstrom, honey,” she told him, “she’s here to suck your cock.”
“I don’t know about this,” he whispered to her nervously. “Are you sure?”
“Now, don’t you be a stick in the mud, sweetie,” she scolded him gently. “You wouldn’t want to be rude, would you? So drop your pants and let the nice girl get to work.”
Nervously, Gary unzipped his trousers and let them fall to the floor. His cock was so stiff it was poking out over the top of his underpants.
“My, he is glad to see you,” his wife commented, smiling at Lara but then turning to Gary with a surreptitious look of reproach.
Gary made a “what’s a guy supposed to do when a hot chick demands to suck his cock” gesture to his wife as Lara pulled down his underpants and set his excited prick free.
“Gary’s not used to having someone so young and attractive pleasuring his penis,” his wife explained to Lara.
“Now, honey, you know I…oh, God…find you…oh, sweet Jesus…sexy,” he panted, as Lara licked the pre-cum off of the head of his cock.
“He really likes having his balls licked,” his wife told Lara.
“Oh, thank you,” Lara smiled, dropping down towards Gary’s scrotum. “I always love it when a man’s wife and I can work as a team.”
“And he likes it when I talk dirty to him,” Mrs. Stewart added.
Lara stopped sucking on Gary’s balls long enough to speak.
“I want you to screw my pretty little face with your man meat, you whore-fucking cunt,” she said politely.
“She’s good at this,” Gary’s wife commented.
“You join in too,” suggested Lara as she once more took Gary’s testicles into her mouth.
“Suck on my husband’s hairy ball-bag you dirty, filthy, crazy-as-fuck little psycho whore!” she screamed.
“Don’t overdo it,” her husband warned her.
“Just a bit of role-play,” she replied nervously, straightening her dress.
Lara slid her wet lips slowly down the length of Gary’s throbbing boner, quivering with the ecstasy of being the deliverer of a divine message.
“I’ll go and make us all a cup of coffee,” suggested Mrs. Stewart. “Do you have cream, Lara?”
“I do now,” Lara chuckled, allowing some of Gary’s cum to dribble from between her lips.
“You did that very well,” declared Gary, standing with a dopey smile on his face as his now flaccid cock dribbled semen onto the living room carpet.
“You were my number fifteen,” Lara explained proudly. “Next I’m off to visit Mr. Kramer down the end of the street.”
The three of them drank their cups of coffee and made polite chitchat. Lara waved goodbye to them cheerfully as they ushered her out the front door.
She knocked on the front door of No. 37, but it wasn’t Mr. or Mrs. Kramer who answered. It was their nineteen-year-old son Jamie who was visiting them for the college break.
“I’ve come to suck your dad’s cock,” Lara told him.
“He’d probably like that,” Jamie replied. “But he’s out of town on business for a couple of days. You might have to come back another time.”
“Oh,” Lara responded. “I don’t suppose you’d like to have your cock sucked?”
“Well, I don’t know,” Jamie hesitated. But then he remembered what his friends had told him about the extraordinary public meeting and the Mayor’s advice to the town. “Come on in. We can give it a go.”
“Shall we go to your bedroom?” Lara suggested. “You can lay down on the bed and be comfortable while I lick a really nice big jizz-spurt out of your prick. Sound good?”
“It sounds good,” he said, doubtfully.
“Oh, you’re a David Fincher fan!” cried Lara when she saw the big poster of a shirtless Brad Pitt in Fight Club that decorated Jamie’s clothes cupboard door. “I used to love all those films – Fight Club, Seven, Alien 3 – back before I got married. But my husband didn’t approve of anything but inspirational movies.”
Jamie lay back on his bed while Lara unzipped his jeans and pulled them, as well as his underpants, down his muscular legs. His cock was large, but it was completely flaccid.
“Not happy to see me?” teased Lara, flopping it back and forth.
“I do like you,” Jamie insisted. “Maybe it will come to life when you start sucking it.”
Lara took the fat sausage into her mouth and tugged on it gently with her lips. She rolled it around her mouth with her tongue. She tried licking his balls, and then she tried holding it in her hand and flicking her tongue quickly back and forth over the head. No reaction.
“Perhaps you should try thinking of someone else while I do it,” she suggested. “Or some fantasy, like being dragged into the girl’s locker room at college for a soapy orgy with ten cheerleaders. Something like that.”
“I’ll try,” he said, looking up at the Brad Pitt poster.
“Wow! That’s more like it,” Lara declared as his cock grew right under her nose. She happily wrapped her lips around it and began giving it a tongue bath.
“Mmmmmm, that’s nice,” sighed Jamie, patting her on the head. Now his eyes were closed and he was somewhere else.
Lara felt a great sense of satisfaction when she felt a shower of hot spunk bathe the back of her throat.
After that she and Jamie lay around talking and laughing
* * *
“A new phase?” Gary Stewart asked of his wife.
“Yes,” she replied. “I kind of thought she would go from the cock sucking phase straight to normality, but apparently not. Mrs. Turner rang me a couple of days ago and said that Lara turned up on their doorstep in the middle of the night and said, ‘I want to sleep in your bed tonight’. Of course they let her. Doctor Zeitgeist said we should go along with her regardless. She wouldn’t tell me what happened. And then Sally rang yesterday with much the same story.”
“Well, I suppose we’ll all just have to weather it,” Gary replied.
That night it was their turn.
“Is there room enough for three in your bed?” Lara asked as she stood on the doorstep in robe and slippers. “I feel kind of lonely.”
“Sure, honey,” replied Mrs. Stewart. “By the way, my name is Edith.”
“Gary and Edith,” sighed Lara. “My bestest friends in all the world.”
“It’s going to be a tight squeeze,” Edith warned as they entered the bedroom. “We only have a regular double, not a queen or king-size.”
“I’m sure we’ll manage, though,” Gary added.
“Let’s all sleep nude!” cried Lara. “It’s much more fun that way.”
“If you insist,” responded Edith, taking off her baggy pyjamas.
Lara slipped off her robe and lifted her nightie over her head, revealing her soft pale breasts with rosy pink nipples. Then down came her knickers to reveal a mass of blonde pubes between her chubby thighs.
Gary unbuttoned his pyjama top and shrugged it off, then pulled down his bottoms.
“Oh, surprise surprise,” his wife said sarcastically. “It’s Benny the Boner.”
“It’s biology,” Gary replied defensively.
They all climbed into the bed and pulled the sheet over themselves. Flesh was pressed closely against flesh. Edith was by the wall, Lara was in the middle and Gary was pressed up against her with his stiff prick wedged into the soft warmth of her arse-crack.
“I’ve just discovered something I really love!” Lara enthused. “Sucking boobies!” She launched herself on Edith and began sucking enthusiastically on one of her nipples and then the other.
“Errrr, I’ve never had a girl do that to me before,” Edith told her nervously. “I’m more into guys. Well, into my husband, that is.”
“Doesn’t it feel good?” Lara asked.
“Well, now that you mention it, it isn’t exactly painful,” she admitted.
“If you like that,” Lara enthused. “You’ll love this!” And she reached down and started twiddling with Edith’s clit. Then she slid a couple of fingers into the older woman’s pussy. “Liar! Liar! Pants on fire!” Lara cried. “If you didn’t like me sucking your boobs, you wouldn’t be so wet down there.”
“You dirty little bitch,” smiled a randy Gary. “I never thought you’d go for a bit of the old girl-on-girl action.”
“Don’t get so cocky,” threatened his wife, “or I might turn you in for a saucy little slut.”
“Fuck me, Gary!” insisted Lara. “Fill my horny little cunt with your hot spunk. Then we’ll see if your wife wants to lick my pussy juice off of your cock.”
* * *
It was only a week later that Lara turned up once more on Mr. Stewart’s doorstep. She was carrying some items in a plastic carry bag.
“Hi, Mr. Stewart,” she smiled. “I’m in a new phase now. I want you to drop your pants and bend over. Then I’m going to fuck you up the arse with this ten-inch strap-on while your wife takes a dump on the kitchen table.”
“I’m getting sick of these phases,” Mr. Stewart replied tiredly.
“Just kidding,” Lara replied, giggling. “I’m all better now. I’m getting a divorce from my husband. And I’ve found a new guy.”
“Really,” replied Gary with obvious relief. “Do I know him?”
“Jamie Kramer,” she sighed, romantically. “We really are a match made in heaven you know. We love so many of the same things…action movies…working out at the gym…Lisa Minnelli…cock-sucking…