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it like that all the time," he laughed, and I was beaming. I considered that my first step in becoming an artiste. You have no idea how thrilling it was to feel his ball sack bounce against my chin. I considered it quite an achievement.

I was learning how a woman makes love to a man; how a woman takes care of a man; takes care of his needs; shows her appreciation for his manhood. Akeem Juma taught me how to keep a man from cumming for long periods of time.

Most Kenyan men are circumcised; he wasn't. Not that I knew the difference at that time in my life. Anyhow, when I was fellating him, my tongue played with his cockhead; swirled it inside his foreskin; nibbled on that foreskin. I'd heard it called ‘playing the skin flute.' I was definitely playing the skin flute, and I must say I was becoming a virtuoso skin flute player.

Let me make sure you understand, I was becoming a Fellatio Artiste. Anyone can learn to play the violin, I was learning to play a Stradivarius.

All the while telling him how magnificent his schlong was and how much it pleased me when he fucked me. I thanked him for letting me suck it. That was another thing Akeem taught me. "Wendy, always thank a man for allowing you such a pleasure. Thank him for the gift he deposited in hour mouth."

I'd found all these different words for cock, and used them. Akeem didn't care, although as he became more and more Americanized, he preferred big dick. In reality, as long as I let him put it inside me: in my pussy and in my mouth, it didn't make much difference to him.

In return when Dr. Juma fucked me, I was off the wall. He knew how to rub against my clitoris, which by the way I didn't know existed until then, in such a way that I was in an almost constant orgasmic state.

I should probably mention that Dr. Akeem Juma was fifty-one and I'd just turned twenty.

I graduated, but stayed at the university another year and earned my Master's Degree. All the while, Akeem and I were bed partners. We were rarely seen in public together. My lips, tongue and my throat were best friends with his schlong. My pussy, too.

I have to say that by the time I left, I was as proficient in the art of fellatio as anyone could possibly be. I rivaled those girls in the fellatio videos.

I went on to earn a PhD. in Shakespearean Literature and was hired by a university in California. While working on my PhD. I had little time for a serious relationship, but on occasion blew off some steam (pun intended). Clearly, I hadn't lost my touch. More than one of those one-night stands called me for a second date. A few I spent an entire weekend with. Sure, there was fucking, but I much preferred being on my knees.

Here's the other thing, I felt sorry for any future women in their lives. There was no way any woman, and I'm not bragging, could match the skills my lips, tongue and mouth performed. I was indeed an artiste.

I was too busy with school work and although my fellating turned them on like nothing before, I wasn't impressed with their manliness. For the most part, they finished too soon or the fucking wasn't of the standards set by Dr. Juma. Besides, although the acne cleared up, I was still short and round with small breasts. I didn't have all that many dates.

I'd only been on campus for a semester, starting my new job when Dr. Wu Wong came to my office. He was preparing a new translation of Hamlet into Mandarin and asked for my help.

We connected on Shakespeare right away; two weeks later, we connected in bed.

You'd think we had nothing in common. I was twenty-sixty; Wu was sixty. He was tall and thin; as you know I wasn't. Then there was the Chinese and American factor.

We connected because Wu Wong had the longest, fattest manhood I'd ever seen. Like I said, every culture, ethnic group uses different euphemisms for the male sex organ. Wu was from the Yi ethnic group in China.

Don't laugh at the alliteration, but Wu Wong's wang was a wonder. That was the common euphemism where Wu was from in China: wang. Not cock, schlong, big dick: wang.

After our first night together, where surprisingly old Wu fucked me twice and made me cum numerous times, in the morning I went down on him. I just had to after the way he fucked me. "Does Wendy Wilson want Wu Wong's wang?" He smiled down at me.

With his accent, it sounded even funnier. I wasn't laughing because I had a mouthful of Wu's wang. I don't think he saw the humor in what he said. Maybe something was lost in translation.

Momentarily I took it out, "Oh yeah. Wu, your wang made me feel like no man ever has. Let me show you how thankful I am." Since it pleased him, I started using wang all the time.

This fellatio artiste was in rare form. It helped that Wu's wang was like that famous statue of David, except erect. It was perfect when it stood tall.

By this time, I'd had cut and uncut ones; big ones, small ones, skinny ones and fat ones. I loved practicing my art form on all of them, but if I had a preference I'd choose uncut, long, fat ones. Wu had an uncut, long, fat wang.

I made love to it all morning. I was certain that he was shocked by my skill. When he filled my mouth with his man cream, I moaned loudly with delight. I moaned, "thank you, Wu. Thank you for the wonderful gift." Just like Akeem taught me.

We both taught on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and had office hours for students on Wednesdays. That left the rest of the week for fucking and fellating. In bed he might say, "where does Wendy Wilson want Wu Wong's wang today?"

I always and I do mean always giggled and answered, "Wendy Wilson wants Wu Wong's wang in her mouth. Wu, that's all I've thought about since the last time we were together."

I loved the sound of saying Wu Wong's wang. I loved fellating Wu Wong's wang.

He'd laugh, as I went down on him. "You know, it was just last night."

Don't think we didn't fuck. Wu was marvelous. Like Akeem Juma, he knew just how to move to make me cum.

Sometime later, at an appointment with my OB/GYN she explained that my clitoris was a little bigger and extended a little farther than average, and was much more sensitive than most. "Ms. Wilson, most women don't have orgasms during intercourse. It takes manual or oral stimulation for them to have an orgasm. I'd guess when you're engaged in intercourse; you have orgasms all the time."

I blushed.

"As your doctor, I'll tell you that's okay. As a woman I'll tell you that you're very lucky."

For the next two years, Wu's wang and my mouth and pussy, just like with Akeem, became best of friends. My orgasms were like lightning bolts when he fucked me.

It was a perfect arrangement: he insisted on fucking me all the time; I insisted on fellating him all the time. After all, I was now a fellatio artiste. I'm not a cocksucker and don't give blowjobs. I fellate and Wu Wong's wang was perfect for fellating.

Wu's wang may have been long and fat but it didn't take much practice before my lips reached his ball sack and his pubic hair was tickling my nose. "Like that Wendy. Show Wu's wang how much you love it in your mouth."

It ended because the Chinese government in Bejing called him home.

I was so disappointed. His wang was so much fun. I was certain that I'd be in for a long dry spell.

TO BE CONTINUED

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