Thirty-Five Years
Brings Déjà vu to Reality
By H.G. Hunt
Chapter 16
In seconds the two women had positioned themselves on the
blanket; crotches pointed menacingly towards each other.
Lips in their full puffy glory from all the delicate
‘handling’ they’d been subjected to; aligning as they inched
together. The previous hours had certainly contained a fair
share of excitement, lust, combat, and effort. But now as
their glistening pussies loomed large in each other’s
sights, there was no illusion that the cunt-battle about to
commence was anything but the main reason the two ladies had
met today, and the main reason the onlookers and
participants alike were nervously expectant about what was
to now commence.
Lisa’s pussy; ah, what a glorious ornament; her slit had
long since parted and her inner lips, full, moist, pink, and
shiny were exposed to the air, each tender flap poised to
accept and then challenge her rival’s cunt-weapon. The lower
region was parted more than her upper flaps, exposing the
bright crimson entrance to her inner folds, the love tunnel
more than ready to swallow anything that might try to invade
the intimate space. If one’s gaze were to follow the path of
her labia minora upwards from the southern confluence, one
would notice their wing-like flaps, parted a bit and splayed
outwards to the side, daring an invader to attempt an
advance, ready to pounce and pinch any foreign challenger.
And as those inner lips worked north towards their upper
merging, her clitoris bulged upward and outward like a fist,
angry, full of venom, ready to pounce and attack at all
times. Her dark hairs stood guard all around the perimeter,
like an army of pawns on a chessboard, willing to sacrifice
themselves if necessary to protect the castle inside.
The view in the opposite direction inspired a mixture of
both awe and arousal. Lisa wasn’t intimidated by the sight,
but she surely recognized a well-equipped feminine crotch
that didn’t seem awestruck by the view of her own pussy.
Jean’s hairy crotch sprouted her own phalanx of
soldier-hairs, lighter in color, but equally long and
dangerous, ready for both attacking instructions as well as
defensive maneuvers. Her outer labia, like Lisa’s, were
already unglued from each other and open to allow easy
access to her waterlogged inner lips. Following those lips
skyward one would be impressed with their firmness and
symmetry, less wing-like than Lisa’s, so not as extended,
but instead, appearing almost muscular, like taut ropes
ready to snag any enemy that dared encounter them. At her
upper labia nexus a bulging clit pulsed visibly with energy.
The shape of her clit was like that of an elongated circle,
ovoid, half an inch above the surrounding tissue,
reminiscent of the peen of a hammer, ready to smash any
measly challenger to its domain.
And with that, the two women and their most precious
genitals came together in the most intimate encounter yet.
The sound of soupy tissues wetly colliding reached
everyone’s ears. The electric shock of their sensitive
organs embracing sent wave after wave of shivers through
both women. Jean let out gasp after gasp and Lisa couldn’t
help but grunt her deepest throaty “Uuhhh! Uuhhh! Oohh!”
Lisa had to close her eyes as the sensation of discovering
Jean’s protruding lips and clit overwhelmed her tactile
senses so much that any visual stimulation would have
overloaded her circuits, possibly even busting a breaker.
She managed to survive the first shuddering seconds, her
cunt jerking in spastic movement, no rhythm present,
learning the rubbery texture of her enemy, pressed so firmly
into her pussy.
Hardly aware of Lisa’s reaction, Jean, for the first time in
over 35 years, rewarded herself with the ecstasy of
pussy-sharing bliss in much the same manner as Lisa. Jean’s
gasps required deep staccato breaths, her tits rising and
falling 25 times in just a few seconds as the royal
sensations surged and surged from deep in her groin towards
every perimeter part of her body. She might have passed out
from the pleasure, had it not been for the automatic jolts
of oxygen provided by her gasps. Her eyes rolled back in her
head, her lids, like Lisa’s, closed by no conscious intent.
The soaring sensations exceeded any physical joy she had
ever experienced, leaps and bounds ahead of even her first
encounter so many years ago in that tiny dorm room. But it
wasn’t an orgasm. It was more of a blissful indoctrination
into that realm of unfulfilled lesbian lust. That lust had
remained dormant for so many years, with the exception of
the shared fantasies she and Brent occasionally replayed.
But this, THIS, was magnitudes in excess of those verbal
fantasies. It was real, close, personal, heavenly, and at
the same time full of anger, menacing, and supremely
motivational. It would have been hard for the thoughts that
flooded her brain to have words associated. The thrill of
that first contact sent her hips rocking involuntarily.
Initially that rocking and thrusting motion was a response
to the autonomous nervous system seeking reconciliation with
its desire for sexual fulfillment, but as the initial
overpowering sensations subsided a bit, the clarity of
thought began to return to Jean’s mind, and the purpose of
their meeting this warm summer day returned in focus.
“Now you know what a REAL woman’s pussy feels like!” Jean
spouted her first challenge of the post-pussy-lock era. She
tried to make it sound threatening, but her ragged breathing
and tentative delivery gave away the pounding excitement
coursing through her veins.
“I feel it now and I’ve been feeling it for my whole life,
bitch. You’re the one who needs to learn the lessons from MY
queen pussy!”
Back and forth the banter continued as their hips responded
to the intimate interaction with purposeful grinding and
twisting. The delicious confluence of their juicy pussies
promoted an even greater assertion of their gushy
lubricating productive capabilities. Wet slimy goo surged
from Jean’s inner folds, to be met head on by an onrushing
torrent of vagina-liquid courtesy of Lisa’s almost
Niagara-like flow. The two competing lubricious rivers
smashed together at the lippy conjunction of their cunts. It
was the twat-juice equivalent of the Nile smashing headlong
into the Amazon. The overflow ran down their legs, between
their ass cheeks, and pooled on the blanket beneath them,
soaking through to the beach sand underneath, and creating a
puddle in the blanket nearly eighteen inches across. Such
hormonal-rich response to the sexy stimulation must have
been a record for women past menopause. Neither lacked a
milliliter of juice as even their cunt-warming fluids
competed. The slippery surfaces could glide and slide
against each other with the ease of a sharp axe plowing
downward through a bucket of melted butter.
As their pussies made “acquaintance” the raw emotion of
their purpose re-established itself in their thoughts.
Lisa’s tactile nerves were on high alert and sending
messages of pleasure swelling through her system, but her
enmity for Jean and everything about her managed to rekindle
itself after a few moments of lost focus. She felt that
surge of adrenaline and motivation telling her to fuck the
living shit out of Jean and make her scream her orgasmic
surrender. While the hip gyrations and thrusts were more
instinctual than plotted out like a blueprint, there was
nevertheless a clearly driven method to her actions. Aware
only that Jean was a woman like herself she presumed her
arousal responses must mimic her own and she fucked
accordingly. As she twisted from side to side she felt her
inner lips push and pull against Jean’s firm cunt-outline.
Lisa’s flaps worked themselves between Jean’s lips and with
a careful slithering staccato rhythm peeled those minora
outwards, opening up that delicious avenue where that river
flowed towards her own plush orifice. With Jean’s lips
stretched wide Lisa twisted her lower torso at a slight
angle and pasted her own splayed opening up against Jean’s
pink cunt-hole. The delicious sensation of her inner cunt
walls plastering themselves around Jean’s folded innards
made her feel as though she were swallowing Jean’s cunt
inside her, as a Venus fly trap ensnares its prey. “Fucking
Awesome!” Lisa thought to herself.
With her cunt-hole plastered tightly against Lisa’s
counterpart, Jean gritted her teeth and wiggled her crotch
in anger, bent on pleasuring Lisa’s cunnie with every soft
fold she possessed. Wiggle and thrust, wiggle and thrust,
wiggle and thrust; her gyrations were out of rhythm with
Lisa’s staccato humps. There was no synchronization of their
movements. Clearly at the moment there was a competition to
try to create the wickedly pleasurable sensations in their
foe that would force her to accommodate the rhythm each was
trying to establish. This went on for several minutes;
grinding, splaying wider open, lips tangling, peripheral
hairs snagging each other once again and yanking against the
differently-shaded enemy hair. The hairs that snuggled up
against labia and perineum had not been involved in their
earlier twisted pubic hair encounter, but now they were
intimately involved with the war that waged between their
legs. Jean rejoiced every time she felt her hairs wrestle
with Lisa’s dark fur, each yank that produced a pin-prick of
pain she knew was causing similar sensations in the
sensitive tissues surrounding Lisa’s pussy. Each little
shared jab of pain was just a further acknowledgement of the
shared sensations and the duality of their pussyfight. Jean
felt all those tugs but her focus was on the battle between
her cunt-hole and Lisa’s wide open maw. She felt Lisa’s
flaps snake outward beyond her own lips and try as she might
she couldn’t get her inner lips to encircle Lisa’s distended
labia. As much as she would have liked to swallow Lisa’s
cunt deep inside, she was forced to try a different tactic.
With no mutual rhythm established, the antagonistic movement
of Jean’s downward bending torso was apparent to Lisa. She
felt the upper regions of Jean’s slit twist inside her
widely splayed pussy, to be shortly followed by Jean’s hefty
engorged clit punctuate its presence with a deep hump and
bump. Now, for the first time, the two hot women engaged in
a little mutually acceptable rhythmic pumping. Jean pressed
her clit in and out of Lisa’s hot hole, and Lisa used her
lips to twist side-to-side, pressing inward on Jean’s sloppy
turgid tool. The wetness of their encounter was not
subsiding at all and the slippery fucking Jean gave Lisa
sounded like boots getting yanked out of muddy ground. The
slurp, slurp, slurp of each brief disengagement echoed
across the cove, to be followed by the grunts and moans of
both women as their cunts meshed in close battle.
With Jean’s clit fucking firmly into Lisa’s lower slit, the
two women attached quite opposite interpretations of the
same events. Lisa felt like she was absorbing the essence of
Jean deep inside her as any woman would accept a man’s cock,
giving her a feeling of power over Jean. But Jean’s mind ran
counter to that and she felt like her clit was an invading
army, pummeling deep into enemy territory, flushing out
enemy patrols with every thrust. So even though one woman
was “getting fucked” and the other was doing the “fucking”
neither felt anything but the most confident about the
actions.
In fact, Lisa even adjusted her legs wider apart, opening up
her avenue even more for Jean to ram her bulging clit inside
her opening. Jean shifted upward as Lisa’s legs came apart
and with a caustic remark, “Good girl, open your pussy wide
so I can fuck you silly!” she raised up into a seated
position astride Lisa’s crotch. She immediately let the
added power of gravity provide extra oomph in her downward
thrusts. Her hard clit and wet lips began pummeling Lisa’s
cunt with wicked thrusts and slithering penetrations. The
feeling of power swelled in her head as she relished the
dominant position. “Take that bitch!” Jean planted her
bulging clit right at the base of Lisa’s equally tumid
joystick-clit. She snarled and bared her teeth at Lisa as
she angled her clitty at her enemy’s counterpart. The wet
gooey appendages sizzled with erotic pleasure as they
tangled in between their tightly pressed cunt lips and furry
mounds. Jean grunted as she attempted to punish Lisa and
turn Lisa’s clit concave with her own (in her mind) dominant
clit. Truth be told, there was very little difference in
size, firmness, or rambunctious behavior between their
clits. Lisa maintained a powerful thrusting and wiggling
action, even from her position beneath Jean’s hips.
“Fuck you, you slimy slut!” Lisa growled back, “I feel your
clit, but your little girly toy is in the wrong league if it
thinks it can handle my tool!”
For a minute or so the two women wickedly rammed their clits
together, each intent on punishing her rival’s most intimate
feminine ornament. Jean adored this moment; her lascivious
nature usually in the background of her personality was at
this moment the defining aspect of who she was. The arousal
she felt was incomparable. Nothing in her past, even that
long ago interlude with the same woman, then a teenager,
remotely compared to the lustful focus boiling inside her.
Her intense encounters with her husband were now most
definitely relegated to the back seat of her sexual journey.
On top of that she was winning! Lisa’s face contorted a bit
with some of their clit-banging encounters and she
recognized the staggered breathing of a woman whose arousal
was climbing towards that oh-so-pleasurable
point-of-no-return. She almost smelled the victory.
TO BE CONTINUED