Written as a commission.Taste the Nation with Padma Lakshmi
Starring: Padma Lakshmi
As the clock struck midnight on the 22nd of September, 2020, men across the country tuned into brand new adult streaming service HuluX in their millions as its very first offering of original programming, a special adult edition of cooking show Taste the Nation with Padma Lakshmi
, went live. The service had been available for download and subscription for the past week and those who had dug deep into their pockets to pay its extortionate monthly fees were treated to a close up shot of the titular host as she stood centre stage in a brightly lit studio.
“Hi,” she said as she addressed the camera. “Welcome to a special episode of Taste the Nation
The camera cut to a long shot, revealing a number of males of wildly differing appearance lined up behind her. Her buxom frame had been stuffed into an elegant, though distinctly form-fitting white designer dress. Shiny locks of jet black hair hang gracefully over her bare shoulders, her beautiful face coated, dabbed, powdered and otherwise adorned with a host of expensive cosmetics.
“Now, the eagle-eyed amongst you will have already noticed that the set up for this episode is a little different from the regular series, and for that there is a very simple reason. This episode of Taste the Nation
will be very different to any you’ve seen before, and in today’s show I’ll be getting a rather more...shall we say, intimate
taste for all the wonderful things this great nation has to offer.
“Lined up behind me are representatives of all fifty states,” the camera took a pan of the row of men stretching across the rear of the stage, “each one armed with a mightily large penis that I simply cannot wait
to get a sample of. That’s right, guys. Over the course of the next two and a half hours, I’ll be tasting the cocks, cum, and God only knows what else, of every man on this stage, and I for one could not be more excited.”
The director cut to close ups of some of the men, the wily grins stretching across their faces suggesting that they were every bit as eager to get started as the host.
“OK, let’s get on with the show. Now, fifty men is a little too many for even an experienced cocksucker like me to handle. At once, anyway. So I’ve divided these guys into four groups.”
One of the cameramen followed Padma across the stage to where a large map of the United States was pinned against the wall.
“Northwest, Southwest, Southeast and Northeast,” she continued, pointing to each area with the tip of a yardstick. “Now, of course, there are two states that don’t fit into these categories, the freak states as they’re sometimes known, so I thought I’d go ahead and take care of them first. These men have flown all the way from Anchorage and Honolulu to be here today, so welcome to Taste the Nation
, Alaska and Hawaii.”
In lieu of a studio audience, Padma was forced to applaud the two men herself as they stepped out from the line and made their way to the front of the stage. Hawaii was a bald, bronze-skinned man of an almost impossibly large build. Looking like he was dressed for a luau, his ultra-chiselled form had been squeezed into a Hawaiian shirt and board shorts, beach sandals smacking against the floor as he crossed the stage. Alaska’s representative was a half-Inuit man of a similar complexion, whose own light brown skin looked to be relishing a rare emergence from under the fur of his parka. The Los Angeles climate was far too warm for his usual get up, but feeling naked in less than two layers, the Anchorage native was wrapped up in a Nordic-style woollen sweater and a pair of black jeans.
“Hi, guys,” she said, beaming a gorgeous smile at them as they approached. “Great to have you here. Now, you guys both love getting blowjobs. Isn’t that right?”
The camera cut to both men as they nodded enthusiastically.
“What’s it like up in Alaska?” asked Padma. “Do you get a lot of head up there?”
“Well, there isn’t a lot to do up there, and when the options are that or ice fishing, most women leap at the chance! And let me tell you, nothing warms you up better than a hot, wet mouth around your rod.”
“OK, and how about you?” Padma added, turning to face Hawaii. “You must fill up a lot of mouths out there in the Pacific.”
“Oh, yeah! I work at a luxury resort and you wouldn’t believe the effect the sun and sea have on the visitors from the mainland. As soon as they touch down on the island, they’re practically itching to get a taste of the local delicacies. And when they see this stuffed into a pair of speedos,” he declared, gesturing down to the massive bulge practically spilling from his shorts, “it’s usually the first thing they order!”
“I’m sure it is,” Padma replied, looking like she was pretty keen to get a taste of it herself. “OK, let’s get to it, shall we?”
Not wanting to go another single second without a penis in her mouth, Padma lowered to a squat between the two men, stroking the decent-sized lumps swelling in their groins.
“Right, let’s see what we’re working with here.”
She turned towards Hawaii and tugged down his board shorts, his flaccid, though immensely lengthy cock uncoiling and flopping down almost to his knees.
!” she exclaimed, her voice carrying an excited purr as she gazed at the trunk of meat swinging between his thighs.
Without a single other word to either her studio guests or the audience at home, Padma gripped Hawaii’s heavy, drooping cock, gaped her lips apart and fed it inside. Wrapping her lips around the swollen, bronzed bellend, Padma bobbed and dipped at Hawaii’s groin, stroking his girthy shaft and feeling it grow in her hands. Inch by inch, his rod disappeared, growing fuller and harder by the second until his surging arousal was throbbing against her tongue.
Drooling eagerly over every stretch that came her way, Padma left a sticky mess of saliva in her wake as she swallowed his shaft. Nearing the base in a matter of moments, Padma clasped his meaty thighs, lips puckering at his groin as she took him to the hilt. Cussing loudly in his native tongue, Hawaii looked down with gaping eyes as the Indian goddess guzzled his meaty pole, expelling its length in a spray of spit.
“Wow!” she exclaimed, desperately gasping for air. “That’s quite a mouthful.” She turned towards Alaska, looking up at him with her seductive hazelnut eyes. “What have you
got for me, huh?”
Licking her lips at the sight of his bulge, Padma hurriedly unbuckled his belt, whipping down his jeans and undies in a single motion. Now utterly rigid, Alaska’s spear vaulted from his pants like a jack-in-the-box, his bulbous brown head nearly smacking the TV MILF in the face as it popped free.
“Damn!” she gushed, clutching the prick at the root and inspecting its girth. “The cold weather certainly didn’t shrink this one up, huh, guys?”
Placing her hands on Alaska’s thighs, Padma took the crown into her mouth, lips roaming along the shaft as she bobbed her pretty head. Sucking hungrily at his turgid pole, Padma doused Alaska’s shaft in a coat of spittle, thick drops dripping from the underside and trickling down her chin as she blew him. Spans of veiny meat quickly came and went, fingers digging into his thighs as her pouty red lips inched towards the hilt.
One final plunge and the whole thing had gone, his bulging head gliding past her tonsils and into her gullet. Holding it inside for as long as she could, Padma pushed against Alaska’s thighs, expelling his rod from the depths of her throat. Spit rained from the shaft and her lips in equal measure, soaking into her dress and practically baring her breasts through the silky fabric.
“Ooh, wow!” she purred, gripping both poles and giving them a stroke. “These are some big cocks you have here, guys.”
Both dripping wangs pointing at her face, Padma gripped them at the root, taking Hawaii into her mouth and sucking him deep before swiftly retracting and switching to Alaska. Padma’s glossy, dark hair swished across her shoulder blades as she switched from one large cock to the next, releasing each one with a loud *POP* as she swallowed up the other. Both of the light brown dongs leaking profusely, twin rivers of precum trickled across her tongue, merging as one and flowing into her throat.
Keeping Hawaii between her lips, she reached up and stroked Alaska, his spit-slathered pole twitching in her mits as she jerked it off. Swollen head throbbing against her tongue, Hawaii placed a hand at the back of her head. Gently guiding her along his twitching pole, that fat, monstrous girth vanished between her lips. In a matter of moments, she’d choked it down once more, drops of his sticky jou dripping down into her tummy as its meaty thickness stretched her throat to its limits.
Ejecting Hawaii in a further sluice of spit, Padma turned back to Alaska, gleefully sucking down his own lengthy rod with equal aplomb. Lips roamed along his shaft, leaving behind thick trails of slippery, wet saliva as they honed in on the base. Hands moved to Hawaii and furiously beat his meat, twin brown cocks throbbing in her mouth and paws alike as she sucked and stroked both poles to the point of near eruption.
Releasing Alaska one final time, Padma looked up at both men. Saliva smeared around her mouth and lipstick smudged along with it, she cupped their balls and fondled them lovingly.
“Ready to cum for me, boys?” she asked, bookending her enquiry with a thirsty lap at each drooling tip.
“Uh huh,” the guys groaned in unison, both cocks trained on Padma’s gaping maw as they pulled themselves off.
Roaring at the tops of their lungs, both men erupted. Equally copious wads of gooey, thick cream blasted from their tips and pooled in her open mouth, nearly filling it to the brim as it churned away inside. Closing her lips, Padma’s mouth bulged with the sheer volume of spunk sloshing about within. Without even the slightest hint of a flinch, Padma swallowed, gulping down the strong-tasting splooge in a single hit.
“Mmm, yummy,” she purred, licking her grinning lips. “Thank you, boys.”
She grasped both poles once more, sucking out the last few drops of cum before sending the pair on their way.
“Two down, forty-eight to go,” she declared, smirking into the camera lens. She rose to her feet and returned to the map on the wall. “OK, now onto the mainland. We’re going to start with the top left,” she said, circling the area with her yardstick. “Where are my Northwesterners?”
Seven men stepped forward.
“Ah, there you are. Line up, gentlemen.”
The men formed a line across the stage. All were white, except South Dakota, who was Native American.
To a man, the line dropped trou, their six white, and one red cocks shooting out in perfect unison.
“Ooh, nice!” said Padma, raising her eyebrows to the camera. She squatted before the first man in line, looking up at him as she gripped his pole. “I’ll start with you. Let me guess. Washington?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Washington replied. A tall, skinny relic of the grunge era, he looked like he hadn’t cut his hair or changed his clothes since the early 90’s. His jeans and flannel shirt were heavily ripped, his black Converse All-Stars a loose stitch away from falling apart at the seams.
Padma parted her lips and steered his dong between them, swallowing a hearty portion of this long, thick trunk right off the bat. And once it was in, she didn’t look back. She gripped Washington’s hips, digging her neatly manicured nails into his flesh as she worked her pouty lips along his junk. Gazing up at him with her deep brown eyes, Padma lovingly worshipped every inch of that vanilla rod, guzzling noisily at the shaft and drenching it in spittle as she went.
Reaching between his spindly legs, Padma caressed his balls, rolling them around in her palm as her lips drew nearer to the base. Sucking up the last few inches, Padma’s lips pressed against his groin, those big, swollen balls squished up against her neck as she throated his massive stock. Slurping greedily and sucking hard, Padma’s mouth formed a vacuum around Washington’s long flesh monument, from which no molecule could possibly escape. Swollen head buried deep in her esophagus, Washington’s prick throbbed and spasmed in Padma’s mouth as she sucked mercilessly at his girthy shaft. Balls churning in her claw-like grip, Washington let loose, nutting copiously down the tunnel of her throat.
“UHHH!!!” he bellowed, looking to the heavens as he started to spurt.
Hands gripping the back of her head, Washington pinned her face to his crotch, keeping her in place as he voided himself inside her. Padma sucked at his rod as he continued to spew, his underside pumping against her tongue as ounce after ounce of burning hot splooge was siphoned from his sack. Firm grip loosening at the back of her head, Padma retracted that lengthy fuckstick from her chest, swallowing down the last few drops of spunk as they dripped into her mouth.
“Phew!” she said, panting heavily as her airways were finally cleared. “You really needed to blow, huh?”
“Uh huh,” Washington groaned, still quivering from the force of his eruption.
“I hope everyone cums as much as you,” she declared, giving him a cheeky wink as she moved onto the next man.
Next in line was South Dakota, and Padma squatted at his feet, looking up at him as she took his cock in her hands.
“What about you?” she asked, cupping his swinging red hangers in her soft, lotioned hand. “You got something in here for me?”
Padma angled his cock upwards and dipped down to get at his balls, his tall skin toten pole rested against her face as she sucked on one of his nuts. Slurping at it insatiably and coating in spittle, she quickly switched to the other, that fat Native cock throbbing against her nose and between her eyes as she gobbled at his balls. Both orbs now thoroughly drenched, Padma licked slowly, teasingly along the underside of his shaft, her skilled tongue trailing over every throbbing vein and pulsing capillary as she journeyed to the peak.
Tonguing at his tip and lapping up the precum, Padma fed his bulging, round head into her maw, tickling his underside with her tongue as she guided it in. But, while his Cascadian counterpart had been more than happy for her to take the reigns, the Native Midwesterner was having none of that. He gripped two handfuls of her shiny black hair and bucked his muscled hips. Holding her head firmly in place, her throat squelched as he pumped into her mouth.
* UK! * GURK! * URK! * GAK! *
Padma placed her hands behind her back, leaving herself entirely at his mercy, staring up at the Native stud with sharp, unblinking eye contact as he bucked into her face. Those now thoroughly spit-soaked nuts swung back and forth, smacking against her throat like spunk-filled wrecking balls. Ten and plus inches of thick, vein encrusted prong mined into her oral cavity. His leaking red bellend glided past her tonsils like they weren’t even there, that long red pole sinking into the furthest reaches of her throat with each unwavering plunge.
Saliva rained from the shaft each time he pulled back, a thick, sloppy mess dripping from her chin and forming puddles on the studio floor. Tears trickled from her eyes, leaving long, twin rivers of mascara that trailed down her cheeks. Balls brewing each time they clapped her gullet, South Dakota’s eruption was close at hand. Pulling out of her drooling mouth, he stroked his spit-slicked cock at a ferocious speed.
“Open,” he said simply, prick pulsing in his hand as he beat himself off.
Pointing his winking tip at her slick, red tongue, he emitted a deep, deafening roar and blasted all over it. Waiting until each drop had finally been spewed, Padma closed her lips and swallowed his load.
Carrying on down the line, the gorgeous host knelt before representatives of one Northwesterly state after another, sucking each one dry and collecting his seed in the pit of her belly. Able to switch seamlessly between dominance and submissiveness at the drop of a hat, Padma alternated between attacking their rods with a viscous intent and offering up her mouth as a slippery, wet socket to pound incessantly and blow their loads inside.
Finally, and with no fewer than eight gloopy wads swimming about in her tummy, Padma knelt before the last man in line, desperately in need of a ninth. Representing the state of Oregon was a thirty-something bearded hipster from Portland, wearing faded black skinny jeans and a grey and white flannel. Padma tuggled down his pants and his dick sprung free; that thick rod jutting from his groin like one of the felled trees his home state was so well-known for.
It was the biggest cock of the bunch- twelve inches at least. Maybe longer. But Padma wasn’t deterred by its phenomenal size. Quite the opposite, in fact, and as she gripped the pole at its girthy root, she crammed it into her mouth with considerable aplomb. Tongue lapping at his underbelly, she greedily fed it inside, stretches of vein-coiled flesh vanishing between her lips as she guided it in.
Looking up at him as she worked his rod, Padma stared a hole through his bearded frame, the longing for his meat burning in her nut-brown eyes. Inch after inch was sucked up inside her, the Asian beauty giving each span a hearty soaking as she fed it between her lips. Yet another swollen crown prodded the back of her throat, globs of prespunk dripping down into her already very full tummy as it slid down her esophagus. Padma coughed and gagged but didn’t expel, the Asian host force feeding herself that thick, long staff like it was her last meal.
Edging ever nearer to the plume of his bush, Padma stared defiantly at those last few remaining inches, determined to fit them in her mouth with the others if it was the last thing she did. Reaching around behind him, she clasped his ass with her sharp, clawing fingers, using his backside for leverage as she pulled herself in on his pole. Another inch vanished. Then another. Then another; her well-kept nails nearly breaking the skin of his buns as she sucked up that schlong. Mouth spluttering and chest heaving, that final stubborn inch wormed its way inside, feeling the sticky embrace of the host’s drooling mouth as her full set of lips smooched his hairy groin.
“Oh, fuck!” he bellowed, eyes practically shooting from their sockets as the Indian beauty ate his fuckstick whole.
Grinning around the cock as it throbbed between her lips, the hairy hipster’s unbelieving swears music were music to her ears as she swallowed his turgid length. But she wasn’t done yet and as Oregon’s big, heavy balls smooshed against her chin, Padma poked her tongue out from beneath his pulsing underbelly and lapped at his swollen sac, drawing a chorus of rousing murmurs from the rest of the line. Delighting in the impressed coos, Padma gobbled ravenously at his thick, pulsing tube, eager to add another load to the already potent mixture swashing about in her stomach.
She sucked hard and didn’t stop until every drop in those fat, bulging balls had been successfully drained. Volley after volley of fiery hot jism spurted down her gullet, joining the eight others now bubbling away in her belly. Retracting his schlong in a slushy wave, the studio floor was now something of a slip hazard as ropes of spittle gathered in large pools across the stage.
“And that’s nine,” she declared, grinning triumphantly as she wrenched his prick from the depths of her gullet. “OK, thanks, boys.”
The guys tugged up their pants and returned to the rear of the stage.
“Wow! Nine guys already!” Padma exclaimed, looking into the camera lens as she rose to her feet. “Doesn’t time fly? But don’t worry. I still have plenty of the country still to cover and lots of dicks left to suck. Speaking of which, let’s move on, shall we?”
She returned to the map on the wall, wielding her trusty yardstick once more as she addressed the nearest camera.
“OK, so we’ve been to the Northwest. Now we’re gonna head south. As you can see, there are a few more states down there, so I’m really gonna have my hands full. Literally. And with more guys for me to take care of, things are gonna be moving a lot quicker. So make sure you keep up,” she said, looking directly into the camera lens.
The cameraman wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or to the guys jerking off at home. Most likely, it was both. Padma returned to centre stage, looking back at the row of studs and beckoning them with her hands.
“OK, Southwesterners, come get me.”
Like sprinters at the starting pistol, the ten men practically hurtled from the blocks, racing across the stage and surrounding the Asian MILF in the blink of an eye. As well as outnumbering their Northern counterparts, the Southwestern studs were also a great deal more diverse; the deeply varied group boasting nigh on every skin tone and ethnic background imaginable among their many ranks.
Oklahoma was Native American. California was a Chinese-American from San Francisco. Both New Mexico and Texas were Hispanic- the former a shaven-headed, heavily tattooed gangster from Albuquerque; the latter a mustachioed, slick-backed Mexican from San Antonio, who didn’t speak a word of English.
“I think this dress has been on long enough now, boys, don’t you?” asked Padma, tugging at the fabric of her designer gown.
The guys obviously agreed as in a matter of moments the expensive garment had practically been torn from her frame and tossed aside like a piece of trash. Hands of varying shade roamed excitedly across her voluptuous body, pawing at her large breasts and squeezing her juicy ass. And Padma was quick to reciprocate, finding two huge crotchal bulges and giving them an excited stroke. Quivering at the size throbbing in their pants, Padma dropped to her knees, aching for a closer look.
“Mmm, come on, boys. Show me those cocks!”
Belts were unbuckled in lightning quick speed, pants dropped and kicked aside. Soon cocks were ringing her from every angle. An army of thick, veiny poles; stiff as a board, pointing at her face like arrows. Arizona’s long vanilla rod hung invitingly before her. She gaped her lips apart and steered it inside, taking him to the root right from the off. Quickly locating two others, she gripped them firmly and started to tug, syncing her strokes flawlessly with the long, deep pulls of her lips.
Tube pulsing in the depths of her maw, Arizona gave an appreciative moan, delighting in the airtight suction the orifice provided. Releasing his prong with a pucker of her lips, Padma turned to New Mexico, leaving behind thick strings of spittle as she took a quick breath and guided him in. Choking him down without a moment’s hesitation, he too felt the soft embrace of her pillowy red lips pressing against his groin as she took him down her throat.
Continuing around the circle, Padma swallowed up each man in turn, giving him a sample of her talents, before moving onto the next. The proud owner of a seemingly endless oral repertoire, each and every suckjob she performed was as different and varied as the men she rewarded them to. Some she sucked slowly, affectionately; wetting their shafts and stroking them tenderly. Others she choked down with malicious intent, tonguing at ballsacks or squishing them against her throat. While for more still, she simply knelt in front of, jerking hands otherwise occupied as she parted her lips and presented her mouth for fucking.
Soon, strands of saliva were stretching in every direction, connecting her full set of lips to thick, girthy cocks and big, swelling balls alike. Those not enjoying the hot, wet feel of her mouth or the perfectly timed strokes of her dexterous hands tugged themselves off as they awaited their turn. Though after a while, their patience started to wear thin. Before long it was something of a free for all, and soon hands were gripping the back of her head and turning it in all manner of different directions. Her lips were guided from one slab of meat to another; antsy Southwesterners interrupting a plethora of blowjobs mid-suck as they pulled her towards them and filled her face anew.
Having gone a full five minutes without his cock in her mouth or a hand on his balls, Nevada was growing particularly impatient. Unwilling to wait even a second longer, he gripped a fistful of the host’s shiny black hair and gave it a tug. Expelling Oklahoma in a sluice of spit, Padma yelped as her head was pulled back, leaving her sultry brown eyes staring up at the ceiling above. But the Indian beauty didn’t object to this rough display of vicious manhandling. In fact, she actively enjoyed it and happily stayed in that position for as long as her suitors would allow. Displaying a litheness and flexibility that looked beyond her advanced years, Padma limboed between Nevada’s thighs, gaping her lips apart as he dipped his nuts inside.
“Yeah, suck those balls, baby,” he groaned, stroking himself off as the Asian goddess guzzled his swelling scrotum.
She reached up blindly for a pair of cocks, pawing urgently at thin air until her hands were filled with meat. Veiny slabs slapped down onto her palms, her three primary pleasure givers were now very much occupied. However, for a woman of such a shapely build, there was always room for more. Leaning back as she was between Nevada’s thighs, her ample bosom was thrust out before her, tits already slick from the showers of spittle raining down upon them since the start of the show.
Quick to seize upon them, California took hold of both tanks, burying his cock in the chasm between. Moulding the pliant brown flesh with his fingers, he wrapped her juggies around his shaft, sawing his dick betwixt and between. Jiggly flesh sheathing his sword to perfection, the Asian stud fucked her heaving chest, dribbling pink bellend soaring out from between her cans and prodding her in the throat with each pass.
Heavy balls now utterly drenched, Nevada retrieved them from Padma’s maw, moist sack now dangling in her face as he replaced it with his cock. Squatting above her kneeling frame, Nevada thrust down into her upturned face, wet, sloppy balls slapping against her forehead as he plunged into her mouth. Sinking to the hilt, he held it there for as long as she could handle. Soggy balls squishing against her nose and restricting her breathing, the strong musk of sweaty skin tickled her nostrils. Placing a hand around her throat, Nevada could feel his dick throbbing away inside. Finally, he pulled out, a torrent of saliva pouring down onto her face as he retracted.
Similarly, California pried his cock from between her tits and another man replaced him, wrapping them around his pole and plowing away until his heart’s content. And on and on it went. From here on out, Padma was taken mercilessly from all sides. Dicks pulsed and pounded in the grip of her hands. Countless dongs were slapped down between her boobs, the ceaseless throbbing of their shafts against her skin drenching her pussy until it was leaking over the studio floor. Cocks were sunk down into her mouth, a legion of multi-toned helmets tickling her tonsils and soaking her face as they withdrew. Scrotum after scrotum submerged between her lips, each heavy sack dangling so far down her throat that she could feel their balls churning against her tongue.
Finally, and with each man brewing a batch that could give a Texas Longhorn a run for its money, Padma’s buxom body was evacuated one last time. The men gathered around her and pulled themselves off; a throng of twitching bellends poking at her face as they stroked themselves towards completion.
“Mmm, have you got lots of cum for me, boys?” she asked, gazing up at them with her beautiful brown eyes, cupping various pairs of the large, stewing gonads as they swung between their thighs.
Some offered grunted words of affirmation. Others simply carried on jerking, happy to let their impending eruptions do the talking.
“Come on,” she demanded. “Give it to me. I want it all in my mouth,” she declared, parting her lips as wide as they would go and pointing helpfully towards her gaping orifice.
One by one, they started to cum. Colorado was first to go off, resting his pounding pink bellend against her lower lip and jetting a fiery burst that shot from his slit like water from a hose. Next came Texas, hollering in Spanish as he doused her tongue with a second helping. Third was Nebraska and as he added his wad to the already deep pool of murky mixture swimming about in her mouth, thick drops of cum spilled out from between her lips and trickled down her spit soaked cheeks.
Gargling with the semen gathered in her maw, Padma closed her lips, gleefully swallowing all three loads. Eager not to waste a single drop, she scooped up the escaping seed, swiftly returning it to its rightful place. Gulping those down too, and feeling the semen shandy merging with the rest deep down in her tummy, she parted her lips in wait of another. Two more spunky cocktails later and Padma had slugged down all ten loads, giving her a grand total of nineteen now simmering away in her gut.
“Hmm, did you enjoy that, guys?” she asked, running her tongue across her lips. “In case you haven’t work it out by now, I fucking love
sucking dick! But it’s not just cocks I’ll be getting a taste for today, as this next group of guys are about to find out.”
The men rejoined the others at the back of the stage as Padma’s naked frame sauntered back across to the map on the studio wall.
“OK, so we’ve taken care of the West. Now it’s time to move cross-country.” She slid her yardstick across the giant map. “The East. Southeast, to be specific. Let’s see. How many Southeasterners do we have here today?”
A group of men stepped forward and Padma counted them.
“Ooh! Twelve!” she cooed excitedly. “Must be my lucky day. OK, guys. Line up for me, please.”
The guys got in line, this second band of Southern studs hailing from possibly an even wider range of ethnic backgrounds than the one that had preceded it. Several were black; Georgia a two-bit thug from Atlanta, Louisiana an aspiring jazzman from New Orleans. Florida was a sunkissed Cuban from Miami. With his calf-high boots and ten gallon hat, Tennessee looked as though he’d quantum leaped to the studio from 1882. While Arkansas, Missouri and North Carolina were about as redneck as it got. Mullets, mesh hats, tank tops. The whole nine yards. Under different circumstances, this group of Southerners might not have seen eye to eye. But all twelve men were happy to set aside any differences they may have had for the good of the common goal- giving a gorgeous TV MILF a bellyful of batter.
“OK, boys,” said Padma, strolling along before the row of studs. “Drop those pants.”
Drawstrings untied and belts unbuckled, waistbands were quickly lowered, unleashing a dozen of the biggest dicks that side of the Mason-Dixon line. However, large as they may have been, those thick Southern dongs were almost ignored altogether as Padma circled around behind Georgia and squatted at his heels.
Placing her hands on his muscled black buttcheeks and prising them apart, Padma looked straight into the camera lens, winking naughtily as she addressed the audience.
“Yeah, that’s right, guys,” she said with a grin. “I like licking ass too.”
And with that she dove in, tongue outstretched as she buried her face in his crack.
“Oh, shit!” Georgia exclaimed his voice carrying a deep ghetto twang as the Indian beauty immersed herself in his stripwaxed rear.
Suddenly, a young and rather nervous-looking PA approached her from the side of the stage. Walking gingerly to avoid slipping in the numerous puddles of spit lining the studio floor, he stopped beside the busy host.
“Ahem...Miss Lakshmi,” he said, his soft, cracking voice drowned out by the loud guzzling of Georgia’s butthole.
“Miss Lakshmi,” he repeated, still to no avail.
Keeping his distance, and careful to avoid the stray drops of cum splattered across her skin, he stuck out a timid finger and poked her on the shoulder.
“Yes, what is it?” Padma snapped, prising her face from that jet-black rear and looking at him irately.
Georgia’s asscheeks were still pried apart in her hands, his sphincter already slimy with saliva. Without saying a word, the PA handed her a very large wine glass that sparkled in the studio lights.
“Oh, yes,” she said. “I almost forgot. Just ‘cause I’m not sucking these guys’ dicks today, doesn’t mean they won’t be shooting their loads, and hopefully when I’m done they’ll have a nice treat waiting for me in the bottom of this glass. Here you are, honey,” she added, handing the glass to Georgia. “Don’t miss.”
The PA made himself scarce as Padma stuck her face back in Georgia’s ass, quickly picking up from where she left off. Holding the glass at waist height, Georgia pointed his tip at the rim, stroking his dick as she lapped at his anus. Spreading his buns a little wider, his asshole split open. Padma promptly jammed her tongue inside, bobbing her head and probing deep. Georgia’s dick started to throb in his hand as he pulled himself off, his bulging, coal-black head twitching violently inside the rim of the glass.
Releasing her grip on one of his cheeks, Padma reached under and started fondling his balls, feeling the almighty wad of spunk brewing inside. Georgia had been on the verge of eruption since minute one of the expert rimjob and those silken paws clawing and squeezing at his gonads proved to be the final trigger. Wringing those plum-sized orbs like a wet sponge, Padma coaxed a thick wad of gloopy, off-white splooge that gushed from his tip, splashing against the side of the glass and collecting at the bottom.
Panting heavily as she finally emerged from between his buns, Georgia passed the glass onto North Carolina, his slimy issue now pooled neatly in the bottom of the bowl. As the long-haired hick took the glass and held it to his groin, Padma knelt behind him, clawing at his hairy white buttcheeks and spreading them wide. Clearly lacking a little in grooming etiquette, North Carolina’s crack was as hairy as they come. So hairy, in fact, that Padma could scarcely see his sphincter through the dense brown forest sprouting from his crevice.
But the Asian host didn’t complain and stuck her face in that overgrown keister all the same, wispy hairs tickling her face as she burrowed in deep. Fighting through the thick foliage, Padma eventually found his anus, sticking out her tongue and lapping at it voraciously. Sinking in further, Padma’s wet tongue slithered its way into his rectum. Bobbing her head at a savage pace, she tonguefucked his untrimmed rear, sweaty ass hairs brushing against her cheeks each time she plunged inside.
“Yeah, lick that fuckin’ ass, darlin’!” he groaned in his predictably white trash voice, Padma’s skilled tongue sinking into his darkest recesses.
Clasping the glass at the stem, North Carolina stroked his Dixieland dong, keen to add a second ingredient to the soupy concoction rapidly pooling in the bottom of the bowl. One final jab of her slick red tongue and he did just that, the fluid level in the vessel rising dramatically as he fired a second gooey wad deep into the rounded bowl.
Padma continued down the line, squatting behind each man in turn and sticking her face in his ass. Mississippi. Kentucky. Florida. Alabama. Representatives of every Southern state experienced the wondrous delights of her tongue in his rectum, tip wagging about so deep that she could have checked their prostates. Some were white, some were black. Some hairy, some smooth. But regardless of the colour and whatever it looked like, Padma immersed herself in its dingy depths all the same.
Tossing more salad than the guests on her regularly scheduled programming, she accumulated load after load of bubbling jism in the oversized wine glass as it was passed from man to man. It only took six loads to fill the glass to the top, and with droplets of splooge almost spilling out over the rim, Padma put the vessel to her lips. Taking a small sip, she left a thick semen moustache across her upper lip as she savoured the salty taste.
“Mmm,” she purred. “That’s just delicious.”
Wiping her mouth, Padma tipped her head back, pouring the contents of the glass straight down her throat.
“Ahhh!” she hissed as she savoured the refreshing mouthful, sticking out her tongue to show that it had gone.
Licking up the murky residue smeared across the edge of the glass, she gathered the seed on her tongue and swallowed that too. Returning the glass to guy number seven, Padma got straight back to work. Asses were spread, sphincters were licked and loads were blown. By the time she reached the end, the glass was almost filled to the brim once more. She knelt behind Louisiana, split his coal-dark butt cheeks and burrowed her way inside. Clearly a stranger to the ways of the waxing strip, the jazzman’s wiry, Afro-like ass hair scratched against her face as she tunnelled in deep, sticking out her tongue and plunging it into his rectum.
But this time she didn’t stop at just tonguing his asshole. Reaching a hand around his jet-black behind, she told hold of his long black cock, gripping it hard and giving it a stroke. Working her hand from tip to base as she continued to rim him, Padma proved to be every bit as accomplished a trombonist as the man himself. Tip pointed at the rim of the glass, Louisiana’s prick pulsed in her soft brown mit; the tugjob/rimjob combo sending his loins aflutter. A few more strokes and his dick erupted, topping up her beverage with one final helping. Fetching the glass from her latest victim, Padma held it up to the camera, the sparkling vessel filled with the slimy sauce of six fat sets of balls.
“Bottoms up,” she said with a smirk, raising the glass like she was giving a toast.
Putting it to her lips, she chugged down the gloopy mixture like a sorority girl at a kegger, feeling the heat of the soothing, warm seed slide down her throat and into her tummy with the others. Feeling a little full from the thirty plus loads splashing about in her stomach, Padma opened her lips and let out a cute, little ladylike belch.
“Whoops! Excuse me,” she said, putting her fingers to her lips and blushing a little.
Returning her tongue to the rim of the glass, she lapped up the remaining spunk until it was sparkling clean.
“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I make that thirty-one. Thirty-one delicious loads swimming around in my tummy,” she declared, rubbing her taut midsection. “I’ve always got room for more, but I think it’s about time I took some on this face of mine. What do you think?”
Rising to her feet and crossing the stage, she returned to the map on the wall one final time.
“Now, we’ve clocked up a lot of road miles on today’s show. We’ve been from Washington, down to California, through Texas and all the way over to Florida. But there’s one part of the country we are still yet to explore. The Northeast. Yep, up there by the Great Lakes. A lot of states in that part of the world. Nineteen, to be exact. Which means a lot of cock for yours truly. OK, let’s do this thing.” She returned to centre stage and dropped to her knees. “Boys.”
The nineteen remaining men stepped out from the row and marched across the stage. Surrounding the kneeling host, they formed a circle some three studs deep around her naked frame. Vastly outnumbering the first band of horny blowbangers, this final group was quite possibly the most diverse of the bunch.
Pennsylvania and Illinois were Asian, New York and Connecticut Latino. Indiana, Michigan, Ohio, Maryland and Delaware were black men from the inner cities. Minnesota was a devastatingly good-looking Norweigan with long blonde hair and a Viking beard, Wisconsin an equally blonde, though distinctly less good-looking German. New Jersey was an oily-haired Italian with skin like a ripe orange. Massachusetts was a fiery-haired Irishman, Maine a sauve, stubbly-faced Frenchman.
The men stepped forward and closed in tight, thick bulges pushed into her face from every conceivable angle. Belts were loosened and pants were lowered, their wild, fleshy beasts released from captivity. Padma scarcely had time to take in the sheer quantity of meat on display, before Maryland’s strong black hand was gripping the back of her head and pulling her towards him.
Lips gaping wide, her mouth was steered to his dark, jutting groin, impossibly thick black cock thrust up inside and sealing her shut. Coughing and spluttering around his monstrous girth, Padma sucked him down, taking his tar-black rod straight to the balls. Wrists grabbed and pulled in different directions, her hands found two more pricks and jacked them furiously. Soon, cocks were jockeying and jostling for position all around her, each one vying for the attentions of her slick, wet mouth, or silky, soft hands.
Releasing the dick from the confines of her throat, Padma barely had a chance to breathe before her head was grasped and pulled towards another. Strands of black hair spilling through his fingers, Connecticut gathered them in his knuckles, holding her tight as he bucked his hips. Throwing himself into her with sharp, powerful strokes, his thick Latin dong bore mercilessly down her stretched out gullet, his huge, weighty balls thwacking against her neck. Hands reached out and grabbed hold of Minnesota and Iowa. They may have been from the flyover states, but Padma certainly wasn’t ignoring their cocks. In fact, she was caressing each throbbing pipe with a deftness of touch that was second to none, fingers roaming from tip to base at optimum velocity.
Wrenching himself free, Connecticut turned her head to the right where another fat cock was ready and waiting. Though not content with merely wetting his dick, Massachusetts squished his balls against his veiny underside and sent those in too. Gaping her lips as wide as they’d go, his bright orange pubes tickled her upper lip as every inch of his oversized genitals were thrust up inside. Swollen head prodding at the back of her throat, her mouth bulged as those large, hairy balls were stuffed into her cheeks. Prising his junk from her drooling trap, slick drops of spittle trickled from his shaft and sack in equal measure, soaking his hand and dripping down onto the studio floor.
And so it continued. Before long, Padma had worked her way around the entire circle, giving each and every stud in attendance a taster of her oral abilities. Some were about her age, some ten years younger, some twenty, some thirty. But regardless of their age and whatever they looked like, she worshipped their cocks with the same brand of loving attention all the same. Shafts were swallowed, dicks were throated, balls gobbled and squeezed. She sucked, slurped, drooled, slobbered, drenched, slathered and sucked some more; vanishing dick after dick between her plump red lips with minimal fuss or effort. Countless hands gripped her head, using her jet black hair as a set of reigns as they pummeled her pretty mouth.
Head pulled back, Michigan pried his long black prick from between her lips, having just jackhammered it down into her throat for three glorious minutes. Moving in close, three other men flanked her from every side, wielding their cocks like truncheons and whacking them against her face.
“Mmm, yes! I fucking love that!” Padma squealed as a troop of bulging, round helmets rebounded off her face, leaving further spatters of saliva and precum across her already thoroughly smeared brown skin.
Keeping her in the same position, New Hampshire moved down to her heaving chest. Clutching her tits and sculpting the jiggling flesh with his hands, he laid his pipe in her caramel gorge. Swathing his shaft with her milky mounds, he sawed his cock between them like a master craftsman. Meanwhile, as Michigan stepped back from behind her, Indiana was quick to take his place. Cock in hand and stroking it vigorously, he dipped his weighty balls into her mouth. Heavy nuts stewing against her tongue, Padma guzzled at his bulging black scrotum, suckling at each of the cum-churning orbs like they’d been glazed in honey.
But it didn’t end there, and soon cocks were assaulting every inch of her upper body. They were in her mouth, her hands, between her tits- anywhere they’d fit. More were prodding her cheeks, smacking against her shoulders and playing her head like a bongo drum. One man wrapped strands of hair around his shaft, leaving behind gooey globs of precum as he stroked his dick with her shiny black locks.
At some point, a large white ottoman had been wheeled out onto the stage. Where it had come from or who had brought it out, nobody wasn’t quite sure, but they hoisted Padma aloft and carried her over to it all the same. Dropping her down on the leather furniture, the men formed a circle around it. Laying out on her front across the snow-white surface, Padma reached back and gripped her expensive heels. Parting her lips and sticking out her tongue, she presented each man with a sopping, wet duct to pass around and plug full of cock.
Wisconsin went first; the Aryan stud using her now thoroughly disheveled locks as a set of handlebars as he steered his cock inside and pummeled ferociously. * AK! * GURK! * UK! * UK! * UK! * came the sounds from her mouth as her throat was impaled, thick, gooey strands of spit leaking out and down onto the ottoman. Tears welled in her eyes, laying claim to the last of her mascara and dislodging her false lashes.
“Yeah, take it!” he growled, drilling his torso into her face and clapping her throat with his nuts. “Take this fucking cock!”
The viciousness and brutality of his rampant face fucking truly knew no bounds, and each relentless plunge sent his huge, pulsing crown tunneling down her esophagus and caused her chest to heave. But that was only the beginning, and as Wisconsin hammered away at her pretty red mouth, a line of studs stretched across the studio floor, each one ready to run a train on the Indian host that would transport her halfway around the country and back.
Wisconsin retracted and another man entered, packing her face and pounding away like a man possessed. West Virginia. Vermont. Delaware. Representatives of nigh on every state in the Northeast quarter took a turn in her mouth, crown after crown soaring into her darkest reaches as she was passed back and forth from one man to the next. Though some weren’t content with merely fucking her throat, and before long body parts of every type and variety were getting thrust into her gorgeous face. Balls were stuffed between her lips, cocks slapped against her skin.
At one point, New Jersey backed up towards her, fisted a pawful of hair and almost yanked her head from her shoulders as he pulled her face into his crack. Gripping hard at her messy black locks, he slid her face up and down his stripwaxed crevice, and had it not been for the thorough cleanse he’d given himself before the show, the orange-skinned Italian would have been using her skin like a sheet of toilet paper. Swiping her nose through his crack like an AmEx card, the facial abuse continued until a string of impatient hollers signalled to him that his time was up. And as New Jersey departed, two others were quick to greet her, a pair of dripping pink bellends pointing at her face.
“Think you can fit two in there, baby?” one of them asked, grinning down at her maliciously as he gripped his twitching pole.
Without awaiting an answer, both men steered them forward, their cocks like a pair of missiles as they zeroed in on their target. Crossing at mid-shaft, the girthy twin dongs filled her mouth to capacity, cheeks bulging as the fat, swelling crowns were crammed into her face. Running her tongue over every stretch of shaft its somewhat restricted movement would allow, Padma let out a low, throaty groan as the pair of pricks throbbed in her drooling mouth.
And on and on it went. The wild mass blowbang had long since overran its intended duration, and still showed no sign of slowing down. Men pulled out and others went in, dicks coming and going until Padma had sucked and slurped, lapped and tongued her way around all five Great Lakes and halfway down the Atlantic seaboard. But it didn’t stop there, and as the last man finished pounding her dribbling maw, she rolled over onto her back and the cycle continued.
Laying across the leather ottoman, Padma’s head hung upside down over the edge, locks of glossy black hair trailing down to the studio floor. Cocks ringed her closely once more and the Indian beauty was quick to accommodate as many of the wagging spears as she could manage. Maine and Pennsylvania stood on either side and were promptly treated to a pair of handjobs. Ohio climbed aboard and buried his dick in her rack. New York squatted before, cock in hand as he drove forward, stuffing it into her kisser and plowing away like his life depended on it. Gripping her throat, he felt it bulge as his spicy Spanish sausage soared down her esophagus.
That was four; a valiant effort if ever there was one. But it still left fifteen men, gathering around her with little intention of merely awaiting their turn. Pricks were slapped against her arms and midriff, flinging globs of precum this way and that. The producer had given the guys strict instructions not to stick their dicks in the host’s pussy. But he hadn’t said anything about fingers. With this in mind, New Hampshire knelt between her splayed legs and rammed two digits up her cunt, fingering wildly until she sprayed like a firehose.
This idea had clearly gone over a storm with his Northeastern chums, and soon enough, nigh on every one of them had fingerfucked her squelching twat, not stopping until her sizzling girlspunk blasted across the studio floor. Two more stood on either side and held onto her legs, gripping her tight, less her writhing and thrashing disrupt the ceaseless pounding of her sloppy, wet sleeve.
And it worked like a charm. Indeed, the oral assault went uninterrupted and didn’t let up for a single second. Cocks came out, others went in. Heads bore into the deepest parts of her gullet. Sweaty sacks squashed against her nose, dangled in her eyes and cannoned against her brow. Thick layers of slop dripped down her face and into her hair, taking what little remained of her makeup and dignity along with it. Balls were crammed in her mouth. Ass cheeks were perched on her face, her long, wet tongue sinking into one male rectum after another.
The oral train chugged along on an endless loop; the mass blowbang continuing for such a length of time that the producers and camera crew were starting to wonder if it would ever stop. The host clearly had a voracious appetite; one which looked like it may never be sated, no matter how many cocks she sucked, asses she licked or balls she fondled. Finally, and with every conceivable blowbang record well and truly smashed, each set of nuts was stewing with a burning wad that was just itching to be released.
Clambering down from the ottoman, Padma knelt on the stage floor, a gang of Northeastern studs surrounding her and stroking themselves senseless. New Jersey placed a hand at the back of her head, tugging at her mess of hair and roughly pulling her towards him.
“You want this, bitch?” he snarled through his thick guido accent, pumping his rod like a madman.
“Yes, I want it,” Padma groaned. “Gimme that load! Drench my fucking face!”
No further encouragement was required. Whacking away like a horny teen, New Jersey’s throbbing, ticking time bomb of a penis detonated in an explosive blast, semen spouting from the tip in great volleys that plastered her flawless features. And the first pole had scarcely ceased its boundless spewing before another was firing along with it; a long, slender yellow one, as Illinois stuck his mighty Asian cock in her face and doused her with a potent blast. Both sets of balls successfully emptied, the two men parted, making room for another. Black cock twitching in his big, strong hand, Michigan unleashed an endless stream of jism that splattered across Padma’s face in a long, thick stripe, streaking her flesh from hairline to chin.
From here on out, they came thick and fast. Dicks erupted and ball sacks were drained. Maryland. Pennsylvania. Iowa. Connecticut. Rhode Island. Everyone of them stepped up to the plate, jacking it wildly and making a contribution to the collaborative expressionist painting quickly forming on her smooth brown skin. There was spunk everywhere- streaking across her lips, coating her cheeks and brow, and dripping from her nose and chin.
Thick wads were fired across her eyes, instantly glueing them shut. Now where the guys were aiming their goop was anyone’s guess, and indeed, she’d been covered in so many loads by this stage that room for more was wearing a little thin. But not to worry- the men simply pointed their dicks at her tits or hair and left them there instead. Globs of cum collected on top of her head, wobbling about in thick, gooey clumps. Long lines of the stuff ran down the strands of her hair. While more still slopped out from the valley of her cleavage and ran down over her abdomen, her skin and stomach lining all that was stopping it from merging with the leagues of splooge sloshing around her gut.
Eighteen down and Padma was caked; soaked in splooge from the groin up. But there was one more still to spew. Indeed, Wisconsin had been yearning to void his balls all over her since the moment his pants had dropped and as he stepped up before her, pulling his prick at a mile a minute, Padma decided to give him a little reward for waiting so patiently. Wiping the spunk from her eyes, she stuck her middle finger between her cum-streaked lips and sucked it clean. Gazing up at him seductively, she reached around behind him, pressing her finger against his butthole and thrusting it up inside.
“Oh, FUCK!” he cried, knees nearly buckling from underneath him as her painted tip sunk into his rectum and jabbed at his prostate.
“Mmm, come on, baby,” she cooed, licking her lips as she fingered his ass. “Give it to me. Gimme that fucking cum!”
Beating furiously, he let loose, hitting her full in the face with one final load of searing hot seed. The last but by no means the least, Wisconsin’s blast was quite possibly the warmest, gooiest and most powerful of the lot; the almighty wad gushing from his tip like a burst water main. The thunderous gout plastered her already cum-drenched face, coating every stretch of skin yet to be doused and plenty more that had.
By the time he was done, every inch of smooth brown flesh had been painted a creamy white, the Indian host wearing a shawl of splooge that almost entirely covered her hair and face and stretched right down to her chest. Eyes sealed shut once more, Padma looked up in the direction she believed a camera to be, purring contentedly as fifty loads of semen, one for each year of her life, caked her gorgeous face and swam in the pit of her tummy.
“Well, that was fun, wasn’t it, folks? I hope you guys enjoyed this special episode of Taste the Nation
. I most certainly did. Join me next week when I’ll be taking a break from tasting the nation to taste the entire world! I’ll see you then.” Winking one spunk-coated eye at the camera, Padma looked up at the throng of men still gathered around her. “OK, who’s still hard?”END