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Dueling Clits Part 1
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Dueling Clits
Part 1.
by Jackie ( [email protected])
I was about twenty years old before I realized that my clitty was so
unusual. I mean, how many girls get each other *very* excited to see
"how big" their clits get ?? Guys, may do that with their cocks, but
none of *my* girl friends did it with their clits *when* I was
growing up. I then found mine could grow, poking out a good inch,
BUT I have to be *super* excited for it to stick out that far,
looking just like a miniature cock, and feeling pretty hard.
Ever since I realized mine was different than most girls, I figured
there were other girls or women just like me, or maybe even
*bigger*. I would always discretely "check out" other girls/women
whenever they were naked, e.g.: beach or gym changing rooms, college
communal showers, or even girls on my college swim and soccer teams.
(I guess it's like guys checking out other guys' cocks, but not
nearly as much fun. Theirs sprout much easier than ours.)
The key is to find one that juts out from its hood like a *really*
plump over-grown corn niblet when it's *asleep*, then watch how it
mushrooms when passionately licked and nibbled. With older
girls/women, it's harder to discretely peek because their dense
growth of curly, fluffy pubic hair usually hides a clitty that's
even slightly longer in its sleeping state.
I've only ever found one other girl/woman with a clit almost as long
and fat, but have heard of other women with clits up to two inches.
When I was a senior in college (I won't say how long ago, but it was
before AIDS became a major problem), I became *very* friendly with a
girl, Valerie, who had a long and fat clitty. She was a slim girl
with muscular arms and legs, long brown hair, hazel eyes, and a very
seductive perky smile. Here's the story:
Coincidentally, we both were on the college swim team. One day in
the open-bay communal pool showers, I noticed that *her* plump
niblet was standing proud, well outside its fleshy hood, much, much
further than most other girls, or should I say, women. I might not
have detected it if she had a huge forest of brown curls, but she
kept her whole plump mound completely clean-shaven. (Maybe, she felt
it made her more aerodynamic in the water. It *certainly* made her
more aerodynamic to my tongue, but I'm getting ahead of myself.) Her
clean-shaven mound greatly accented both her pouty pink pussy lips
and that fat poking-out niblet.
After that fateful discovery, I made sure I was using the very next
shower-head whenever the team hit the showers. Valerie seemed proud
of her sleek body as she didn't wear a towel when entering or
leaving the showers. Luckily, we both liked taking long soothing
showers, so we were usually the last ones done. When all the other
girls had left, I could more openly, yet still discretely, watch her
soaping her young firm body.
At times like that, I must shamefully admit feeling like a traitor
to my gender, acting out the trait of guys that I dislike most
being controlled by that "stick" (although mine is much smaller)
between our legs.
Over time, I learned that Valerie had more good points than just a
potentially large clit. My heart confirmed that I was attracted to
her for more than just her fine body, but that didn't diminish the
effect her physical attractiveness had on me.
I intently studied her during swim practices, her lith body parting
the water, muscles straining as she glides faster and faster. On her
U-turns, that sensuous body became "one" with her thin tight
swimsuit, like a second very translucent skin every bump, valley,
and wrinkle, including her niblet, became completely visible.
As much as that image excited me, I still loved her best, naked in
the shower as drops of water cascaded over her whole luxurious body.
Even when not nearby, Valerie (or, at first, select parts of her
body) was now always on my mind.
After a few weeks of constant erotic torture, I began to fantasize
that it was *me* soaping her solid wet body in that shower. I face
her, my warm hands cupping her round buoyant breasts; the ridges of
both palms surfing over her long hard pink nipples; and finally, my
long thin fingers dipping between those puffy pussy lips,
repetitively rubbing, making sure both were absolutely, positively
squeaky clean.
Without a word, our wet bodies are slowly drawn toward each other
into a loving embrace. *We* are now "connected," our locked eyes
speak volumes, our touching flesh telegraphs tingles, and our mashed
lips transmit both warmth and desire, a dance of passion and of
sharing. Our pussys and legs intertwine, rubbing one on the other,
slowly at first, then ever more frantic as our passions build.
Abruptly, I stop and step back, surveying the pleading look on her
pouting face. My slippery wet body glides around her, then attacks
from behind. My large glistening breasts are now squashed against
her slick back, my curly blond bush is rubbing its hot female dew
against her firm round cheeks, and my firm engorged clit is now
nestled in the narrow crack of her firm tight buns.
Reaching around her, my magical fingers very lightly rub rich sudsy
lather over and over her elongated clitty's sensitive pink crown,
while I hotly kiss and nibble her shining neck and shoulders. Her
legs and thighs part even wider, flaring those puffy outer lips,
allowing me to do a much more thorough job. Her head arches back,
resting on my shoulder, with her mouth partly open, gasping heavily,
but otherwise not making a sound. (It appears she's not a loud
"moaner.").
Her hands reach behind and clutch my firm buns, pulling me even
tighter against her. This causes my pendulous breasts to slide
outwards, outside our bodies' edges from our sandwiched force, like
jelly oozing out between two tightly squashed slices of bread.
Finally, she relaxes both cheeks making that narrow crack grow much,
much wider, as those fleshy buns are forced outward again by our
sandwiched pressure. If my clitty was only an inch longer, I could
now easily slip it up her puckered rosette-shaped hole, like a long
skinny cock, making her thrash even more with unbridled pleasure.
Making a "V" from two fingers, I gently rub more warm soapy lather
up and down her clitty's long thick stem, as if "jerking off" her
narrow stubby cock. Each tender stroke makes it wildly jump and
jerk. Valerie now seems perplexed, she doesn't know whether to
arch forward, squeezed tighter against that mischievous hand, or
press back, firmly clutching my long wiggly snake between her buns.
Her dilemma is left unanswered as an ever louder chorus of
"oooooohs" and "aaaaaahs," escapes through tightly pursed lips, as
all her muscles tense and she rises toward an explosive finale.
Feeling her impending climax, I massage that naughty thrashing
clitty just a little bit harder, while lightly biting back and forth
across her twitching wet shoulders.
Suddenly, her body bucks and jerks in my arms, causing me to leave a
red welt on her left shoulder, while she grips my buns ever so
tightly. Holding her slippery body very snug so she doesn't fall, my
hot moist palms let those rock-hard nipples peek out through
grasping fingers until her violent gyrations slowly subside.
As her senses return and she regains her balance, I slowly and
lovingly back away, a broad smile on my face and the fingernail
gouges from her pleasure on my buns. Her satisfied, glowing body now
needs another warm soothing shower that I will let her take alone.
Returning from my fantasy, I remind myself why I have so envied her
compact, half-moon youthful breasts. They were just so, so ....
perfect. (She was only two years my junior, but looked much, much
younger.) Most of her breast flesh was a dark tan but around each
dark nipple was a small creamy-white triangle where her tiny bikini
top had just covered it. Standing back, each hovering breast looked
like a puzzle, a dark pink circle in the center of a white
triangle in the center of a tan circle.
Sadly, geometry had no name for my breasts. They were a full D-cup
since fourteen, forcing me to strap them in each morning in a tight
underwire bra for support. Even before they ballooned to their
current large cup size, they would noticeably sag. Now, they
definitely hang down, like two large udders. My last blouse was a
36L ("L" was for "long bust").
Although, their fullness bothers my back from time to time, my one
and only consolation is that guys (and most gals) have *never*
complained about their size or shape. They attack them like suckling
calves. My other problem is that between my blond hair and those
balloons, most guys believe that *all* my brain cells were used to
create my breasts leaving my head empty. They soon find out that
they are mistaken.
*Her* B-cup breasts though, float as if suspended in mid-air, hardly
even jiggling. She had no need for any support. Her dark pink
nipples were perfectly centered, always spiking out, *very*
prominent. Although I had never seen her braless when dressed, in a
tight white silky tee-shirt and *no* bra, she would cause even a
stone statue to jut out hard.
That semi-transparent tee would cling to her luscious body like a
second skin. Only slightly drooling, I can clearly see her dark
pencil-eraser size nipples vividly poking through, rising and
falling ever so little, in perfect rhythm with her breathing. Even
if threatened with obscene torture, I could *not* tell you if she
was smiling or wearing a skirt my eyes were glued elsewhere
(damn, that's my female testosterone again). If she ever arched her
back, those stiff fat nubs would blatantly thrust right through,
causing me to either faint from excitement, or attack that tight
tee-shirt with a vengeance.
After closely watching her shower for many agonizing days, I
concluded that she spent more time soaping those puffy pussy lips
than any other part of her young firm body. Every time she showered,
she soaped and rinsed them at least three or four times. Sometimes
her hand scrubbed lingeringly slow, other times blazingly fast with
her hazel eyes tightly closed, cute face now all scrunched up, and
firmly biting her lower lip. In hindsight, she probably climaxed as
I remember her slightly shaking, her chest all pink, before quickly
leaving with a flushed face.
Once, while her eyes were tightly closed and her hand feverishly
soaping each now-imaginary brown curl, I quietly dropped my soap
near her feet. Slowly and silently, I crouched down next to her, my
hand out-stretched to pick it up, but only waiting and watching. My
face was only inches from that whirring wet hand. I inhaled whiffs
of her pungent female aroma mixed with a "mountain fresh" soap
scent, becoming more light headed with desire.
I thought for sure she would swiftly notice my closeness, but she
was floating in her own sweet world. This angle gave me a perfect
view of her plump clean-shaven pussy being parted and stroked by
that devilish hand. I could vividly see her outer lips flaring from
those tender fingers; her clitty stretching out further, like an
awakening snake, as those fingers "accidentally" rubbed against it;
and finally see one or two gooey fingers dip into her heated love
tunnel. I was so close I could even hear the squishing as her
knuckles disappeared from sight.
I became hypnotized, my eyes glued to that blurring hand, now
knowing the intense arousal a voyeur feels. I wanted soooo much to
stick out my long fat tongue, licking her hot gushing juices as they
dripped from her pink lips, but that would have broken her magical
spell, and embarrassed *me* too much.
I just adored how her puffy pink lips flared, like blooming petals
on a tulip. At night, I constantly dreamed about softly parting them
with my stiff athletic tongue, then firmly licking her inner lips up
and down, darting that stiffness in and out, over and over, like a
snake on a heated hunt. I would let that long slender squirming
tongue deeply investigate her hot wet love tunnel, and even let it
tickle her navel from the inside!!
(Unfortunately, in those days, I was extremely shy. Even though I
could vividly fantasize about her and my affection continuously
grew, I found it very hard to openly express my feelings to her. I
always stayed silent and just peeked.)
This time though, her fat red clitty was sticking out over half an
inch, much more than usual, about as thick around as my little
pinky. *I* had to be very careful not to get too aroused myself, or
*my* monstrous clitty would also jut out, quickly giving my desire
away. It was a shame, they could not duel together, like miniature
swords, while our breasts, bellies, and pussys just caressed each
other, slowly melding together.
As soon as I saw her arch up on her toes, I bolted upright, not
wanting to be caught crouching down so very close. Almost
immediately, her sleek body tensed up even more, her pussy
ballooned out further, gobbling up more of that stroking hand. It so
wantonly ground her lips and huge clit against that wiggling wrist,
trying to reach that magical high. Suddenly, her sweating body
twitched two or three times, as if convulsing, and her chest flushed,
while a low guttural moan escaped her parted lips, muffled slightly
by the spray's loud noise.
Seeing her climax so hard, I almost reached out to steady her, but
stopped myself, as I didn't want her to know I'd seen. I spun around
with my back towards her, and continued rinsing. By the time I
turned around again, she was gone.
Etched in memory forever, as if by a hot branding iron, is the erotic
image of her firm wet body glistening under those shower lights,
so pure and shiny clean, except for a trail of hot sweet nectar
running down her still-twitching thighs. I can vividly see the last
drops of water hanging from each hard outstretched nipple,
patiently waiting to fall, while other drops of sticky sweet dew
hang from where her pussy lips have so grotesquely twisted and
stuck together.
Since those days, I have seen many young hot wet bodies, some
even more sensuous, but there was just something about her
fulfilled wet glistening image that I will never forget.
My favorite fantasy of her is still vivid in my memory. There, she
has given me permission to be her soft gentle body-towel. I begin
kissing and licking, er, drying, her warm wet sensuous body at her
nose, spiraling lower and lower, not stopping until I have
completely dried each of her ten toes.
She *forces* her body-slave to: bathe her neck and ears with my hot
tongue, making soft, then louder coos and moans rise from her
throat; suck every molecule of moisture from both protruding pink
breast nubs, making her shiver and shake from forbidden desires;
swirl my warm wide tongue in ever narrower spirals on her taut
stomach, finally dipping it deep into her navel, making her knees
open wide with joy; then feast on both now low-hanging pussy lips
until they are so red and puffy, almost totally dry (if that is ever
possible), finally bringing her to a bucking, thrashing, fireworks-
popping climax.
Not allowing her weary body any respite, I continue to feverishly
kiss and nibble down her still-trembling thighs and legs, ever
teasing, making every ounce of her total being beg for more. Mini-
cannons shoot off, bringing her closer and closer to a second
grand-finale.
Finally, I wetly and vigorously mouth each neatly manicured toe,
like a mini-cock, trying to make each one cum. I suck hard on
them, making slurping sounds, letting my tongue's firm tip caress
them as they slide in and out my hot wet mouth. This is causing
her to again quiver and shake, then her sweet pussy convulses,
gushing out more hot sweet nectar, her body jerking and bending,
her head thrashing from side to side, until those glorious rippling
sensations subside.
It might take days, or even weeks, and she still might not be totally
dry when I finish, but I'm sure every cell in her body will feel
absolutely satisfied, yet totally exhausted !! For now, with a gentle
kiss on each still-pulsating nipple, I quietly slink away as satisfied
as her, even though I never climaxed.
During our shower one day, Valerie softly asks me to soap her
muscular yet sleek back. She says she pulled a shoulder muscle
while swimming. Her request gives my whole body goosebumps,
my face brightly blushes, but then looking at the shower room
floor, I mumble "No" and a "stupid" excuse.
You must understand that my whole being would have *loved* to
do it, but *my* hands soaping (spelled "caressing") *even* her
back's firm tan flesh would have been just *too* much for me. I
feared I would lose my self-control and start actively soaping her
body in areas where she didn't want me to, maybe even rubbing my
slick soapy body lovingly against hers.
After my negative reply, Valerie quickly left the shower as though
embarrassed. I stayed behind, immediately regretting my words,
and now *really* all alone.
Just thinking about "what might have happened" really aroused
me. Closing my eyes, my face still in a pout, I found the soapy
palms and firm fingers of both hands lightly kneading my large
hanging udders with their rock-hard rubbery nubs. Soon, with a
will all their own, they began lifting and squeezing those huge jugs
in a much rougher, more vigorous manner.
Maybe, I was punishing my body for saying "No" to sweet, lovely
Valerie. My hands would shove my breasts together, then roll them
around, the silky soap suds acting as a very slick lubricant. Then,
they violently tug on my long hard nipples trying to stretch them
into tomorrow. The more I mashed, tugged, and rolled them, the
more rough attention my breasts desired. This "punishment" had
now blossomed into pleasure. My breathing became quicker and
more ragged, my body bucked slightly in anticipation.
I hesitated, looking around quickly to make sure no one else was
there. Satisfied, I slid one hand through my wet blond pubic curls,
down between my hot creamy thighs, finally, roughly rubbing my
pouting pussy lips with "V'd" fingers. "Ohhhhh ..... yessssss,"
*this* was just what my enflame body soooo desired.
Squatting down with my knees spread wide, my puffy pussy fully
flares and heated love tunnel opens, allowing even greater entry for
those stiff magical fingers. Soon, not only one, but two, then three
long rigid fingers were pumping in and out of my sopping hot
tunnel, plunging with all their might to push me over that
marvelous crest. My love tunnel muscles gripped those sticky
fingers, exacting as many sensations as possible while they
pistoned relentlessly in and out.
My other hand was still roughly tugging on my hard, rubbery
nipples, alternating between those two tortured sore nubs. Lifting
my hanging right breast to my soft moist mouth, allowed me to
vigorously suckle on that wanton, very needy nipple. My hot wet
breath soothed the hurt some, while that vicious hand went back to
pulling and tugging on my left nipple. My cloudy brain and
swirling senses were overwhelmed, receiving indescribable
sensations from all three areas of my trembling body at once.
Without even touching my now-obscenely bobbing clitty, my climax
continued building to a well-deserved peak. I cried out, "Oh God,
right there" to that empty shower room. Suddenly, my pussy lips
started contracting and my stomach began churning.
"Yeeesss, that's it, juuusst a little moorree." I felt a dull ache
growing inside my body. A flood of female "honey" began gushing down
onto that pistoning hand. Instantly, *every* cell began screaming
causing my whole body to jerk and thrash, at odds with my head
flailing from side to side. Wildly twitching, I lost my balance and
slipped to the floor, luckily, only bouncing on my buns. I must have
laid there for two or three minutes, a totally satisfied, still
twitching, lump of cells and nerves.
Finally, regaining my senses, I slowly staggered to my feet. My
legs were very weak both from squatting and the earth-shattering
climax. My body so needed another warm soapy soothing shower.
After that, still satisfied, I dried myself off and went into the
changing room to get dressed.
Dueling Clits
Part 2
by Jackie ([email protected])
I deeply regretted saying "No" to Valerie every single day. She
*never* asked me again to wash her back in the showers after
swimming. We would still shower together, sneaking peeks at each
other's wet curves, often using our budding bodies to tease each
other, but *never* say a word. Seeing her naked wet glistening
body *every* day kept me constantly aroused, my pink pouting
pussy always juicing at least a little. On days when I would often
see her, I *had* to wear a super-absorbent "pad" to prevent any
embarrassment. I knew that I had to do something, but what ??
*Every* night, my mind graphically replayed "what might have
happened" in the shower under that warm wet spray. My long
slender fingers pumped my over-heated furnace while my fat
thumb strummed my long, hard clit to earth-shattering climaxes. A
few times, I climaxed sooo hard, my roommate must have clearly
heard my muffled cries and guttural moans, if not some creaks
from my bed, as I wiggled and jerked my wide-open drooling
pussy toward sexual bliss. (Often, I was so desperate, I almost
wished *she* would come over and snuff out, with her mouth and
full moist lips, that raging fire between my twitching legs before
they melted from its intensity.)
When my roommate was gone overnight, the incredible stories my
five-foot body-pillow could tell. I often vigorously rode it,
deliriously imagining that the soft warm cuddly pillow were
Valerie. Our young nimble bodies would lovingly intertwine as
"one," a maze of firm sleek legs and hot wet pussys, together
making wild passionate love.
I would begin by: wetly kissing and nibbling my body-pillow's
imaginary neck, often letting just the tip of my firm moist tongue
tease a more sensitive patch; lovingly stroke her long silky brown
hair, deeply inhaling its fresh clean scent; and nuzzle her firm
pointed nipples, watching their wide pinkness scrunch up, begging
for a more vigorous sucking.
Pausing only for a moment, I would look up, gazing into her twin
glassy pools, as her increasing passion made ever more frequent
ripples. Nibbling on each breast's sensitive underside, her tense
body would shutter. Her stomach contracts and gently bucks,
taunted by the trail of warm wet kisses I left in my search toward
her hot passionate love-tunnel. By now, *I* am usually sooo close
to cumming that the lips in my fantasy never make it to that heated
fountain of desire.
My body now forces me to tightly hug that body-pillow, our two
over-heated pusses briefly beginning a slow gentle love; quickly
moving on to firmly push and shove; then lustily rubbing, our fat
elongated red clits dueling for ever stronger sensations; and at long
last, thrashing violently at each other until stiffening in an
earth-shattering climax. Drained and exhausted, I would collapse on that
soft now-damp body-pillow with a funny grin on my face.
Continuing to hug it tightly, I give a couple warm wet "thank-you
kisses", as I would have to the real Valerie. After every swift sweet
shuttering climax, I left my wonderful body-pillow "glowing" with
my warm loving perspiration and a large soggy wet spot where that
hot wanton pussy had gushed out its sweet nectar, completely
drenching it.
If my roommate came back soon after I'd finished, she would
easily smell my female scent by just walking through the door
the room permeates with the smells of hot sex and warm love.
A couple times, I even decorated that darling lovable "Valerie"
body-pillow with: a pink lacy bra whose cups I stuffed with socks
I would have used water-balloons with their tough pointed
nubs, but was afraid they wouldn't stand the vigorous activity and
I'd end up wetter than usual; a soft belt around its middle to make
a very slim trim waist; and lastly, even though Valerie kept her
pink pussy clean-shaven, I even went so far as to tie some rough
beaver fur from an old muff I found near that pillow's bottom to
make it "feel" more real.
Those over-stuffed bra tips would sternly rub against my own
hanging breasts with their erect nipples, while I humped that very
willing body-pillow. The rough lace tweaking my nubs and firmly
scraping my breasts, as I pressed harder and harder, would drive
me ever so close to a mind-numbing climax. With every harsh
caress, my own nipples would get more shriveled, both hard nubs
poking out still further, thereby getting harshly caressed even more
a vicious, but enjoyable, cycle.
At the same time as those over-powering sensations above, my
long erect red clit would constantly rub that stubbly fur, feeling
each individual beaver hair caress, or sometimes stiffly poke, its fat
bloated head, making it surge out well past its full one inch. What
might have been normally pain, was now the pleasure of coming
together as "one." As that naughty clit twisted and thrashed, it
would constantly try to poke a hole through that unfeeling fur into
the soft pillow underneath, straining to reach that imaginary
pussy's love-tunnel inside.
Very soon, I'd cry out, "Yesssss, right therrreee." Then, with a
final long, slowly subsiding, "Ohhhhhhhh," my poor body would
shutter and shake, twist and jerk, in the throes of final upheaval.
After each violent climax, both pink bra cups would be saturated
from my constant wet suckling and licking, and my chest would be
bright red from their scraping. Each climax would provide some
temporary, but wholly incomplete, satisfaction since my monstrous
naughty clit could never reach its moist heated goal.
After recovering from every almost-heart-stopping climax, I felt I
had the courage to plead with Valerie, "Let me wash your back."
Though, when we really met, I could never find either those words
or that courage. I noticed that she would even stall and dally if I
was late, so that we would *always* shower together. My body
could sooo very strongly feel the intense animal magnetism
building between us, but yet I still could do nothing.
Back in my dorm room, I would *again* practice those "five little
words" some more. I could easily speak them into a mirror, but
always upon seeing Valerie so naked in the shower, my firm
resolve would melt faster than an ice cube on a hot summer's day.
Just watching those large drops of spray racing down the apples of
her cheeks; over the ski-jumps of her round ample breasts; even
faster, down her firm taut abdomen; around the pool of her navel;
over her plump bare pussy mound; and finally, down the strong
solid muscles of her thighs and legs, left my mouth totally dry and
immovable.
Those lonely tears of spray straining ever so mightily to drop from
her pert nose; from her full pursed lips; from her hardened tube-shaped
reddish nipples; from her pink flared puffy outer pussy lips;
from each and every luscious body part, caused those well-practiced
words to flow into hiding, never having been said.
After a long month of daily torture and nightly shuddering
climaxes, I swallowed my fear and made an *extra* effort to
become friendlier with her. I was ecstatic because she cheerfully
responded. Soon, we were usually warmly chattering after swim
practices with broad bright smiles and gleaming eyes. Other times,
we would just silently look into each others eyes, letting our souls
telegraph both our hot, and tender, thoughts.
Now we would walk, sometimes very closely, to and from all our
classes. Every time her swaying hips would "accidentally" rub
against mine, my whole body felt mini-bolts of electricity. Each
and every pussy curl would spring out straight yearning for
attention. Once, I nearly died when her hand almost grasped mine
as we walked, but she seemed to change her mind at the last
minute, letting only our finger tips graze. Just from that brief
fleeting touch, I could intimately feel every tiny ridge on each of
those finely manicured tips.
We had become very good friends but *every* cell in my body
longed for our friendship to blossom into a completely fulfilling,
loving girl-girl relationship. Back then, I didn't know about
bisexuality or lesbianism, *but* I did know that I sooo wanted, no,
"needed," my Valerie. Again, I was afraid to make the first move
not wanting to ruin a friendship I had begun to so greatly cherish.
After being best friends for about three months, I finally was so
desperate that I had to try something, *anything*. I invited her up
to my dorm room Saturday night for some extra studying. This was
the first time we had studied in the privacy of my room. It would
be especially private since my roommate was gone for the
weekend.
Previously, we had only studied at the library among many other
students. She didn't know it then, but it was *her* I really wanted
to study very closely, my eyes acting as a microscope over
every inch of her beautiful, desirable body. I wanted to study:
every hair on her fluttering eyelashes, while I lightly kissed her
nose; every dimple on her cheek, while I kissed along the ridge of
her well shaped chin; every bump and mole on her neck and chest,
while I kissed all around her wonderful breasts . . . . "Oh, I just
*had* to stop thinking about it. I'd be toooo excited even before
she got here !!"
To help loosen any of her inhibitions, I bought a large bottle of red
fruity wine. I didn't know whether she drank wine, but I sure
hoped so. Most of the girls on campus would drink, but only a little
if they were with guys and trying to remain in control of both their
bodies and their guys. I *hoped* that Valerie would not worry
about her drinking with *me*.
That afternoon, I decided to take a leisurely bubble bath so my skin
would be "soft as a baby's bum" for Valerie. After unhooking that
cornflower-blue monster holder and letting those udders swing
free, I slid down my sheer matching panties feeling growing tingles
as those fingers only lightly grazed my sensitive thighs. I resisted
touching them any further, cause I wanted to be "primed and ready
to go" for my Valerie. Gazing at my naked body in a full length
mirror, letting my full milky-white breasts sway from side to side,
another surprise came to mind for Valerie.
Ample breasts bouncing, I ran to the bathroom and grabbed a pair
of scissors thinking, "I wonder what her reaction will be when she
sees my curly blond bush trimmed in a heart shape ??" After a few
minutes of snips, my bush looked pretty much like a heart. "Not
perfect," I thought, "but it would have to do. Actually, it looked
more like a broken heart my pouty lips providing a seeping
crack down the middle !!"
Now to finish with a razor and some shaving cream, but first a hot
wash cloth to soften that tender skin. After all, it was only used to
warm kisses, wet licks, and hot breath. A couple nicks and
"ouches" later, the heart was done. Time for the warm bubble bath
to sooth both it and the rest of my body.
Drying off after an hour soaking in the tub, it was time for a close-cut
pedicure. I meticulously dried each individual toe, then applied
a coat of bright red nail polish. I wanted each toe to be clean and
fresh smelling, just in case, Valerie was into "toe sucking." Only
thinking about it sent shivers down my spine. I hoped *so much*
that she enjoyed it, cause it excited me greatly to have each toe
vigorously tongue licked, then sucked, then tongue licked some
more, like each was a mini-penis waiting to explode.
Now, "what lingerie should I wear to seduce sweet Valerie ??" I
pondered. Finally deciding to put the emphasis on my breasts,
flaunting those two large gifts, I chose a very revealing sheer red
lacy bra and panty set. I always equated "red with passion" and
remembered that once or twice, I caught Valerie obliquely staring
at my large breasts while we were showering together. "Breasts,
that's the ticket," I thought.
I chose a red low-cut lace demi-bra from Frederick's of Hollywood,
which claimed it would lift and separate, adding a *full* cup size. I
bought it two years before to entice an old boyfriend. With a pair
of large Ds already, I really didn't need the additional cup size,
*but* I was doing whatever was necessary to seduce that "sexy
wench." Usually not my style, *now*, it was perfect.
It pushed together both large udders, mounding them in the middle
like rolling hills, almost spilling them out over the cups' edges. My
crinkled stubby nipples were just at the cups' top, one tiny-weeny
upward push on those breasts and those fat nubs would spring out,
quicker than a switch-blade knife, ready to be suckled. This style
also lifted them up on a platter, ready to be served, which I dearly
hoped they were. Finally, a front clasp allowed it to easily "pop"
off.
For panties, I chose tight red bikini-style that allowed some blond
curls from "my heart" to peek out on both the top and sides. They
were tight and sheer enough that Valerie could easily see my puffy
lips spreading wide behind that red veil. As I looked and turned in
the mirror, I also noted they didn't cover all of my plump
protruding mound, and not even a quarter of my rounded butt
cheeks.
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