Aaaaaaheeeeoooo! As his incredibly butch, copyrighted scream rang through the jungle, Tarzan swung from tree to tree along his carefully spaced liana route.
Gorgeous hairless pecs ran with healthy sweat, tightly muscled buns clenched and unclenched with the effort of swinging accurately but gracefully fifty feet off the jungle floor.
Aaaaaaheeeeoooo! Jane heard the call in the distance and called down to her child who was trying to rip Cheeta's nappy off.
"Boy! Will you please leave that chimpanzee's knickers alone. She's on heat and nobody wants to see that swollen, purple rear, certainly not the Hayes Office. Come up here and wash your hands, your father's coming home for lunch."
"Aaaaaaheeeeooo!" Jane's hubby landed with a graceful thud on the front porch just as Cheeta turned round and gave Boy a smart smack on the chops.
"Aaaaaaheeeeooo!" Boy screamed. "The fuckin' chimp socked me!"
"Serve you right, you little turd", shouted Tarzan, "she's got the star billing, not you. Snotty-nosed kids are a dime a dozen. There is only one Cheeta."
"Climb up sweetie," Jane called, "Mommie will kiss it better."
"I trust you are talking to the boy, not the monkey," Tarzan said in his haughtiest, Lord Greystoke manner, "Star billing or no star billing. It is exactly that sort of messy cross-species behaviour that has given the jungle a bad name."
Jane ignored this. "Will you both please wash your face and hands. Lunch is ready."
"Jane good cook, Tarzan hungry."
"Just a simple jungle luncheon:
Crepes Fourrees Gratinees
Homard a l'Americaine
Perdreaux Rotis sur Canapes
and a Souffle au Grand Marnier"
"Aaaaaaaheeeeoooo! Tarzan like."
Meanwhile Boy had climbed up onto the terrace and whined,
"I won't eat all that shit. I wanna hamburger."
Jane and Tarzan exchanged loving parental glances.
Tarzan said, "Whatever happened to all those wonderful kidnapping cannibals who only ate humans under ten?"
At the end of the meal as Jane sipped a coconut liquer and Tarzan inhaled the delicate fragrence of a banana brandy.
"Tarzan say, Jane exquisite Cordon Bleu cook. Tarzan lucky to have fabulous fuck who is good cook too."
Jane blushed prettily under her Max Factor 27 Tan, "Jane happy to have sole use of living proof that some muscle guys are lavishly hung."
"Jane will have to miss out on Tarzan's goodies for a few days. Jane must take Boy and go down river to the mission station."
"Why? Are the natives restless?
"Worse"
"Are murderous slave traders threatening our tribes?"
"Worse than that."
"Or is some frightful volcano about to cover the country in molten lava, burning all before it and opening huge crevasses in the ground, swallowing up hundreds of extras from Central Casting?"
"Even worse than that!"
"Tarzan is having Jane on. Maybe Tarzan has found helpless blond in pith helmet, about to be tied to a stake before starring in obscene native ceremony, blouse ripped open to reveal blond's costly lingerie."
"No. Tarzan only loves Jane. That is why Jane must take Boy down river. Tarzan must warn old friend prospector Fred in Mountains of the Moon."
"What is it? What is so terrible?"
"I've just come from up-country. The dreaded M'Goolu Goolu tree will flower tonight. Soon the great black male and purple female blossoms will open together. This only happens every century. The scents of pistils and stamens, the male and female organs, harmless by themselves, will mingle, and the M'Goolu Goolu scent will waft over the jungle.
Crazed by the aroma, every living creature will try to play doctors and nurses with every other living creature, irrespective of size, shape or common decency.
You must flee, take Boy with you. Get a change of your tiny, pitifully shrunken, suede two-piece costume from Wardrobe and get down river before the sun sets! The blossoms open tonight and then if we are here, we are fucked - literally!"
Jane had a horrific vision of some huge sex-crazed crocodile licking it's green and slimy teeth as it leered at her from the murky depths of the Limpopo. How horrible! It would be as bad as a New York singles bar.
"Boy! Boy! Put the monkey down. How many times do I have to tell you not to tease her when she's got the curse. Come on now, go get our paddles. Mommie is taking you down to the nice Mission."
"Don't want to go to the Mission. Father Upp is a dirty old perve. He's always putting his hand up my lap-lap."
Tarzan put his hand on his son's shoulder, "Believe me Boy, me Tarzan and me terrified! If you stay around here, you will pine for something as soft and gentle as Father Upp's ecclesiastical hand."
Jane returned, a change of clothing wrapped in a handkerchief, "Come on Boy, there isn't a moment to lose. Tarzan, if we take the canoe, how will you get down river?"
"I'll never make it. The blossoms will open at sunset. If I can get to the Mountains of the Moon at dusk, warn Fred, then we can barricade ourselves in the mine. Then we will only have to cope with very small creatures trying to - Go! Go! It is too terrible to think about."
Jane and Boy got into the ecologically correct elevator made of twigs and boughs and Minny the young elephant gently lowered them to the ground.
"Keep your legs crossed Minny," said Boy, giving her a pat on her virginal rump, "it's going to be a rocky night."
Making sure his wife and child were safely on their way to the river bank, Tarzan, pausing only to take an antacid powder after Jane's delicious lunch, swung off to the Mountains of the Moon.
"Aaaaaheeeooo! It's a good thing I have three hours before the tropical sunset occurs with dramatic suddeness, plunging the jungle into darkness, because I have to skirt the M'Goolu Goolu trees quite closely to get to the Mountains."
Meanwhile, Jane remembered she hadn't brought a single stick of make-up. Her personal make-up man had gone to his hairdresser's and what she had on, was running in the tropical heat of the set lights.
"Damn," she thought, "there is nothing for it but to go back and get my make-up case."
She turned to Boy, "You wait here by the canoe. I just have to go back for a minute."
His father's panic had got to Boy and shut him up at last. Nodding dumbly he sat by the water's edge, twiddling his toes on the water. His mother turned and hurried back towards the family penthouse, high in the giant Baobab tree.
Slowly the sky dimmed. A heavy tropical cloud? Failure of the studio lights? Jane looked up fearfully. Heavens! An eclipse of the sun!
Would the darkness sweeping over the jungle, trigger off the blossoms of the M'Goolu Goolu tree? As she ran through the trees, she could smell something strange, exotic, a bit like a mixture of "Chanel No 19" and something even sexier, "Opium" perhaps? Her senses reeled, her most intimate parts twitched. What was happening to her? She paused, panting. As she leaned against a tree, trying to catch her breath, Rani the house tigress padded up to her and gently taking her suede leather costume in her jaws, ripped it off Jane's body.
"Rani! What do you think you are doing?"
But Rani took no notice and proceeded to slip her rasping tongue between Janes thighs.
Jane screamed, "Ow! That's too rough. Stop it Rani, please."
But the lady tiger seemed encouraged by Jane's screaming and lapped all the harder.
"Oooo! A dykie tigress. I can't bear it." Jane slid to the ground, on her back, too weak to do anything but moan piteously as Rani really got into it.
Fortunately, just as Jane was about to pass out with horror and ecstacy, a troop of gingery baboons swung down from the trees. Attracted no doubt, by Rani's attractive black and yellow striped outfit, they proceeded to jab and jamb their baboon parts into any of Rani's available orifices.
Three or four squabbled over her other end, one holding the end of her tail and pushing it into his pal's rear while he was trying to get into one or the other of Rani's sacred spots, even though it was already occupied by other baboons all jammed in together. Even her sweet little tiger ears were attacked. With a quavering roar, Rani sank to the ground, too ocupied by the gang rape to worry about Jane.
Boy, sitting by the canoe and getting hot and sweaty, decided he might have a swim while he waited for his mother to return. Stripping off his little leather jock strap, he leapt into the river.
"Aaaaaaheeeoooo!" How refreshing and cool. If only the studio would let Jane have a young brother for him. It was dreary being an only child with nothing but stupid animals to play with.
Just then the sky darkened and he smelled a sickly sweet odour wafting over the surface of the water. The water boiled with the agitated thrashing of hundreds of little fish. Every inch of his skin, even between his smelly little buns, was suddenly being softly nibbled by schools of love crazed minows.
"Ah! The old man is getting soft. This is great. Beats wanking. Beats fucking boring old Cheeta's hairy ass."
But while he was treading water, his eyes closed with pleasure, there was a great surge in the water. It was Blongo Blongo the hippopotomus!
"Sheeit! What could he want?" Boy beat his father's 1933 Olympic record to the bank and lay there on his back, panting with fear.
The giant hippo slowly emerged. It ambled up the river bank until it was straddling Boy, a soupy look of affection in it's eyes. As the terrified Boy looked down under the muddy brown stomach he saw that a long, black fearsome pole of flesh was protruding from the creature's loins, twitching angrily and pointing right at his face!
"The only thing to do is relieve it as quickly as possible. Wait until I see my agent. This is definitely not in my contract."
So saying Boy grabbed the monster with both hands and started rubbing like mad. Loud hippo bellows of pleasure rang along the river bank. The giant organ throbbed and stiffened as Boy worked on it, tickling Blongo Blongo's balls with his toes for added effect. Boy was disconcerted to find that he was getting hard too, the weird lust being greater than the terror. Where might Blongo Blongo try to put his equipment if Boy didn't finish him off quickly?
While this loathsome scene was being enacted, Blongo Blongo's unweaned hippo child emerged from the water. Where was it's mother? Probably doing something unspeakable with the crocodiles which infested the river. The baby hippopotomus was too young to be affected by the maddening scent of the M'Goolu Goolu tree. But it was thirsty and hungry. It's short sighted little eyes saw something between Boy's legs which looked just like one of Momma hippo's big pink teats. "Supper!" Thought it's tiny hippo brain. " Just feel like a snack." Then it sank it's mouth onto Boy's hard-on and started sucking contentedly.
Aaaaheeeooo! Daddy hippo suddenly came. Boy turned his face away to avoid being drowned and the orgasm squelched all over his chest. Then he could feel himself squirting a hot load into baby hippo's mouth. Baby didn't seem to notice any difference and sucked on blissfully long after Boy finished until it was really agony for Boy but he was too frightened to move.
Finally he plucked up the courage to wriggle out from the awful cage of the hippo legs, panting with fear for his naked bottom, Boy ran to the nearest tree and climbed up a creeper until he got to a really high branch where he lay against the trunk, drained and exhausted.
Meanwhile, in another part of the jungle, once out of sight of the cameras, Tarzan was taking it easy, coming down out of the trees to stroll along the jungle path, nodding regally to any of his creatures he happened to pass. It was fairly dark on the forest floor so Tarzan didn't notice the eclipse.
The first intimation of danger was the changed attitude of the animals. Instead of respect, the King of the Jungle was getting some very strange looks. That boa constrictor he had just passed had jabbed it's tail up and down most obscenely. It flicked it's tongue in and out normally enough, but with a distinct leer.
He felt something dropping. Rain? Unfortunately nothing so wholesome. A troop of spider monkeys were having a circle wank over his head, smirking and chattering in a most disrespectful and lascivious way.
He sniffed as the sensuous scent of the M'Goolu Goolu tree hit his nostrils. Instantly the mighty sceptre of the jungle king stiffened and hardened, tearing a rent in his sweat-rotted loin cloth. He tore the useless garment off.
Panting with fear and excitement he still managed to think. "What sort of schmutter is Wardrobe using these days? Once I used to be able to wrestle a crocodile and still come out looking decent. Now a guy gets a hard-on and the whole scene has to be re-shot because his cock's waving around in the breeze."
"Aaaaheeeoo" He screamed at the monkeys, "Show a little respect."
Just then he felt a nudge between his mighty buns. They instantly tightened with terror. He looked around. M'Gumbo the Jumbo, drooling with love for his master, was trying to put his trunk between Tarzan's cheeks, exploring perhaps, a possibility for the Jumbo equipment to go the same way. Just then, M'Gumbo reared up on his hind legs, flashing something which jerked and throbbed as if it had a mind of it's own. So huge it made even capacious mother elephants flinch.
Quicker that when pursued by cannibals, quicker than when pursued by wild boar packs, even quicker than when pursued by autograph hunters, Tarzan leapt up a tree, just out of reach of the questing trunk.
As he hung there by hands and feet from he saw a hive of bees hanging from the same branch. They didn't seem to be affected by the sexual madness sweeping through the jungle. Not yet.
"Just as well," thought Tarzan. "Drones only do it once. But they really sink it in. I don't fancy being gang raped all over by ten thousand bees. Whatever happens I must not climb any higher and disturb them."
Looking down he saw M'Gumbo had rolled over onto his back, his enormous ears flapping gently, his trunk curled up, a blissfull look on his face. What was going on?
Then he realized that the leering boa constrictor had caught up with them, wriggled lecherously up one of M'Gumbo's rear legs and stretched it's boa constricting mouth around the end of M'Gumbo's giant dong.
Meanwhile, the snakes tail, which had so rudely gestured at Tarzan, was slowly being inserted somewhere just under the elephant's own tail. No wonder M'Gombo had surrendered his plans for Tarzan. He was having a much fancier time than the puny Lord of the Jungle could offer.
"Now, if I can just quietly slither down, away from these bees, while elephant is busy, I can make a dash for the Mountains of the Moon."
But it was not to be so easy. Ambling along the jungle path came Teeta the giraffe, eyes glazed with love for her Jungle Lord and eighteen inch long tongue slavering at the sight of his beautiful bottom hanging from the tree branch like two ripe melons.
"Oooh. This is terrible. But I dare not climb higher. Whatever Teeta does can't be as bad as those stinging bees."
So he just had to hang there trying not to cry out and disturb the bees while Teeta lovingly slurped most of her tongue into his cringing behind. As if this wasn't enough, a large green tree frog hopped onto his stomach. "Quite an attractive reptile really", thought Tarzan, making the best of a bad job.
Which was just as well because what had attracted Kermit was that Tarzan, in spite of, or because of, the large giraffe tongue massaging his insides, was still flaunting a really King of the Jungle sized erection.
Kermit opened a mouth as big as the whole front end of his body and engulfed the head of Tarzan's dick, trying to swallow it all. But before he got very far there was a slip and a slither and another reptile, this time an egg-eating snake, hung down from the branch above, snapped up the green frog, flicked it over Tarzan's stomach into the jungle with a contemptuous twist of it's body, and settled it's expert mouth where the frog's had been.
"Don't fight over it fellas," Tarzan thought, "although this guy makes a living at giving head to eggs. This should really be the best."
Then he had an alarming thought. Didn't the egg-eating snake have a tiny sharp tooth which it pressed into the engulfed egg, breaking it's shell and avidly swallowing the gush of yolk and white?
Aaaaheeeooo! Yes it did! The prick of pain and the feeling of the Giraffes tongue slithering around brought the Lord of the Jungle to an enormous climax. The love-smitten snake got it's gush of egg white, plus a drop or two of blood. Teeta nearly got her tongue squeezed in half, and as he let go, Tarzan let go, falling onto the giraffe's back and then tumbled onto the ground.
Picking himself up, he staggered off towards the Mountains of the Moon. Fortunately the eclipse ended, and with the sunlight, the dreaded M'Goolu Goolu blossoms snapped shut, cutting down the scent so that the beasts of the jungle were content to make lascivious gestures at their Lord, winking and beckoning lewdly.
A black panther, embracing the large mother of a group of pink piglets, thrashed his tail and licked his whiskers as the piglets screamed with fright. The mother sow, Tarzan noticed with some approval, had enough shame to lower her eyes as he loped past. Perhaps the scent was slowly dissipating and the animals were coming to their senses.
Finally he made it to the foothills of the Mountains of the Moon. All he had to do was pass through the mountain band of shy, elusive gorillas and he could climb up to Prospector Fred's mine. How had Fred fared during the eclipse, he wondered.
Aaaaaheeeooo! He called to the gorilla band who had brought him up before he succeeded to the earldom and was merely The Honorably Cecil Greystoke. Out shambled his adopted uncle Erff, his blood cousins Frrrk, Bggggr and Slrrrp. Slrrrp pointed to Tarzan's unclothed middle.
The gorillas had always been fascinated and respectful of Tarzan's good-sized parts, so huge compared to the tiny equipment of the much larger apes. Tarzan looked around for a large leaf or something to dress in, but there was nothing but the sparse-leaved bushes the gorillas had been feeding on.
Just then, the sun set. Tarzan looked wildly around for an escape route. This could be a really guilt-laden session. Incest. Well sort-of. Broken bones maybe. They never knew their own strength when they got excited. The familiar sickly smell of the M'Goolu Goolu tree wafted across the mountain side.
His foster relatives looked at him with a mixture of lust and affection as they grabbed him. Uncle Erff held him from behind, nibbling his ears and moaning gorilla love phrases.
"Tarzan hunky nephew. Tarzan's buns two dreams of delight. Tarzan relax. Urff promise to take it out if it hurts."
What he was poking into Tarzan's cringing bottom was not as large as the giraffe's tongue but rock hard and no fun at all.
"Aaaaheeooo!" Tarzan screamed, "Take it out Erff, you promised."
But like most promises given under such circumstances, this one was broken and Erff just kept going, grunting with passion and sticking his tongue into Tarzan's ears.
Slrrp was crouched in front of him with everything Tarzan owned sucked into his mouth and being tossed around by Slrrrp's tongue. The other two relatives Frrk and Bgrrr, who had always been very dear, very close friends, had their huge thumbs and forefingers delicately pinching each others' minute cocks, which they rubbed with the expertise of long practice. Meanwhile they munched happily at the Lord of the Jungle's fabulous, award-winning pectoral muscles, teazing his nipples with their tongues and slobbering in a disgusting way all over his hairless flesh.
"One good thing about the M'Goolu Goolu scent," Tarzan thought resignedly, trying to relax on Erff's dick, "it brings everybody on so crazily that they come quickly."
Sure enough he could feel himself hardening further in Slrrp's mouth, his orgasm starting somewhere near where his adopted uncle was rubbing against his prostate. Uncle's's panting increased, his huge hairy arms squeezed him tightly around the stomach. "They definitely don't know their own strength," Tarzan thought, hardly able to breath. The panting had spread to the nipple twins and they were making thrusting movements with their hips as they brought each other closer and closer to climax.
"Go easy on those nipples, fellas," Tarzan managed to wheeze, "No biting, please" Slrrp wrapped his huge ape arms around Tarzan's thighs, prodding somewhere between the Lord of the Jungle's calf muscles with his tiny ape penis as he buried his muzzle into Tarzan's crotch.
Aaaaheeeooo! Everybody came in a screaming climax and the whole sweaty, messy, furry, gang-bang fell over in a panting, sloppy heap.
"It's nice to know you folk still love me," Tarzan said when he got his breath back. "But now I must climb up the mountain to see what has happened to Prospector Fred. I fear deeply for his safety."
Tarzan turned, and with his satiated relatives trailing behind him, started the long climb up the mountain. When they got to the prospector's cabin they saw that the only door was open. "This is bad," thought Tarzan, "Fred has been caught by surprise. God knows what horrendous sights will affront our eyes."
Inside the cabin all was in disorder. Chairs were knocked over, smashed glasses littered the floor. But what was most bizarre, the whole place was filled with ostrich feathers. They were on the table, in the sink, with even the odd plume floating in the air.
They tiptoed into the only bedroom. Here the chaos seemed muted, sparse, as if the battle had reached some sort of armistice. On the bed lay Prospector Fred, eyes closed, grey walrus mustache and huge hairy belly trembling in time to the deep snoring emanating from his famous, rum soaked, purple cauliflower nose.
Lying with it's head on Fred's chest, long gorgeous eyelashes closed also in deep sleep, one wing draped protectively over Fred's head, was a large ostrich it's huge naked legs wrapped around Fred's. But obviously Fred had not given up his virtue without a tremendous struggle. The ostrich was almost completely plucked bare. The feathers littering the cabin must have been pulled from it's body while the rape was taking place.