Thirty-Five Years
Brings Déjà vu to Reality
By H.G. Hunt
Chapter 17
Sometimes that wonderful ethereal sense of well-being and
joy seems to last forever, when its true duration is really
just moments, a fleeting glimpse of that almost spiritual
transcendence few are fortunate enough to obtain. Jean was
enraptured in that feeling at this moment. But that was all
it was; a moment, a glorious moment to be sure, a couple of
minutes in real time. Lisa’s psyche, unbothered by Jean’s
top down thrusting and clit-jousting antics was not unaware
of her own ascending arousal, but she retained a semblance
of control of her chemical and neurological responses, the
vino notwithstanding, as well as a supply of energy with
which to counterattack. She did.
Their gyrations and movements around the cove, atop the
blankets covering the pure sandy beach, had taken them near
the northern edge, quite close to where Lisa had tossed the
bottle of wine a short time earlier. She took the
opportunity she had been scheming towards since just before
they clinched up. She recognized the focus Jean maintained
on her pussy grinding and with a firm gathering of muscular
resources she discharged Jean from her top position with a
quick shove. Jean fell backwards at an angle, momentarily
stunned and confused, her pussy continued to grind the
emptiness of the summer air as if on autopilot, even as
Lisa’s pussy was a few feet away. Lisa reached off to her
side about a foot and her hand gathered in the wine bottle
that she’d tossed aside earlier.
As quickly as a jungle cat might attack its prey, Lisa
twisted around and immediately a new element had joined the
fight. The bottle, in Lisa’s deft fingers, took keen aim at
Jean’s pink lips, and finding them parted in moist
readiness, slid several inches inward with the utmost ease.
“Oh, FUCK!” Jean gushed with an expiring breath. Her moment
of elation was gone and the stark reality that this fight
was still being contested re-formed in her consciousness.
“Feels good, doesn’t it whore?” Lisa purred her
arousal-intending words close to Jean’s ear. Her hand
cleverly spun the bottle in arcs, pivoting the inner narrow
end in pressure-circles several inches inside Jean’s
accommodating pussy. Three or four spins of the bottle later
Jean let out her “Ooohs,” and “Aaaahs,” confirming for all
the pleasure she received from the impalement. Now it was
Lisa’s turn to feel the euphoria associated with her power
and control, even as her own lust-crazed libido was able to
regroup on the down slope. Jamming the long smooth glass
bottle further and further into Jean’s cunt gave Lisa an
exquisite sense of jurisdiction over her rival’s responses.
Lisa’s own cunt remained juicy and tingling as she made Jean
squirm with pleasure with the wine bottle gently, but
menacingly, being forced deeper and deeper inside her
well-stretched cunt. The shoulder of the bottle pressed her
lips wider and wider apart as the tip approached the deepest
recesses of her cunt.
“Mmmmmmmm. Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu.”
Jean’s lips revealed how perfectly pleasurable and joyous
she felt as the object spread her lips further and further
while pushing deeper and deeper into her inner sanctum. The
pain of stretching and impalement was infused with pleasure
and she felt her hips arch upward towards the sky, her knees
splayed wide sideways, allowing all to see the smooth glassy
insertion and how much of the bottle she was swallowing with
her glistening cunt-lips, now being pulled inward with the
friction from the dark green bottle. Seven inches turned to
eight, eight to nine, nine to ten, and the wide shoulder of
the bottle was now fully inside Jean’s accepting cunt. Lisa
wiggled the bottle gently so as not to rip Jean’s innards
apart, and feeling some resistance, slowly pushed deeper the
weapon she relied on to push Jean over the edge. Eleven
inches; she felt firmer resistance from the depths of Jean’s
cunt and she now proceeded to fuck her, first slowly, then
faster and faster. She used short staccato strokes, keeping
the wide shoulder of the bottle inside Jean’s squirming body
with every stroke. Ten strokes, twenty, thirty… then a
hundred and Jean rocked her hips against every single
stroke. “Oooooooo.. I Loooooooooooove that.” The rhythm was
perfect. Lisa, it seemed, had found Jean’s weak spot. The
sunlight reflected off the slickly lubricated bottle with
each out-stroke. The bottle plundered Jean’s cunt to
marginally deeper depths with nearly every thrust. Lisa now
only had the bottom three inches of bottle to hold onto as
Jean took another inch. The label on the bottle disappeared
inside Jean’s distended pussy, stretched magnificently by
the alcohol vessel turned dildo. Lisa didn’t say anything,
but let a sly smile creep across her face, alerting the
small crowd to her revived fortunes. Surely Jean would be
sent into orgasmic bliss at any moment.
Jean begged her “Fuck me. Yes! Fuck me more, more, more. Oh
God! Fuck me with that thing.” Jean really loved to fuck and
the erotic thrusting and acceptance of that big cock-like
phallic bottle in front of all these people and under Lisa’s
obvious growing confidence was just perfect. She really did
love the feeling. It was delicious and made her feel most
feminine to have that toy sliding so deeply in and out of
her pussy. The fact that she was still in a contest had not
eluded her but she determined that as pleasurable as the
fucking was, she needed to turn the tables on Lisa. Lisa was
very preoccupied with the squirming and ramming of the
bottle and, even though her left hand tweaked Jean’s nipples
from time to time while her right did the heavy work with
the bottle, she was not prepared for the offensive to be
taken back by Jean; that is until Jean made her move.
Lisa, like Jean, was sweating from both the exertions and
the warm July weather, but also from the effects of the wine
that she had consumed. She reached to her forehead to wipe
away the beading and at that moment Jean grabbed her wrist
and pulled her onto her back beside her. Lisa’s fingers
slipped off the bottle and it came squirting out of Jean
onto the blanket. Jean rolled atop the reclining Lisa.
“Would you like to get fucked now?” It was a rhetorical
question, and Jean didn’t plan on giving Lisa a choice, but
it wasn’t with a bottle that Jean intended to fuck her.
Lisa’s head spun at the turn of events. She tried to push
Jean off, but with the combination of long exertions, the
impact of the wine, and Jean’s 20-pound weight advantage,
Jean would not budge. Lisa’s legs were apart and Jean
reached back and with her arms looped under her knees pulled
them up high towards her shoulders. She looped them over her
shoulders and with all her weight pressing down Lisa could
not muster the strength to unseat Jean. In Lisa’s mind, for
the second or third time she harbored a moment of doubt. How
hard she really tried to unseat Jean was a question she’d
have to answer for herself. In any case, Jean found Lisa’s
pussy perfectly placed to receive a good fucking. Jean’s
tits hung down and slapped Lisa’s gravity-compressed breasts
with every gyration. Jean slid her furry pussy downward
across Lisa’s puffy lips, feeling her course hair
re-encounter Lisa’s dark fur and wet cunt. The saturated
pubes of the two women were so slick with juice now that
they did not snarl and entangle as before, but instead just
matted down and added a layer of bristly friction to their
conjoined pussies.
Up and back, up and back, up and back; Jean rocked her hips
to force her upper pussy region between Lisa’s lips. Their
clits made re-acquaintance; similar to Jean’s position
before the bottle interlude. Jean pushed her heavy hips down
hard into Lisa. Both women were aroused. Lisa had felt her
arousal slowly ebb while she pummeled Jean’s cunt with the
bottle, but it was now heading back in the other direction;
spiraling upward. Lisa ached to reverse the situation, but
she also felt the ache of unproductive sexual release. The
ache meant that her desire for release was now competing
equally with her desire to overwhelm Jean. She tried to push
that ache into the background, but just as she tried, Jean’s
wet firm clit banged into her own and the electric trigger
set off a jolt of pleasure radiating through her.
Jean couldn’t know what Lisa was thinking right now but she
knew that there needed to be resolution and she was prepared
to bring it to that point right now, even if it meant her
own erotic discharge would be precipitated before Lisa’s.
She used her hips to screw downward, forcing her clit to
push circular paths all around Lisa’s wiggling pussy,
focusing 90% of the time and motion on Lisa’s clitoris. The
wet confluence of their sexual organs sent shockwaves of
pleasure spurting through them both. Lisa shuddered at the
escalating pleasure, hating and loving it at the same time.
She tried to push Jean off, but again, due to her diminished
muscular strength, and her increasing focus on release, she
didn’t manage to succeed. Jean recognized the effort, and
wordlessly, responded. She stared down into Lisa’s eyes.
Their gazes met. Jean’s smile met Lisa’s smile. A moment of
déjà vu hit them both. The two humping wildcats were near
the point of no return. They were at exactly the same point
in their battle that had been interrupted by Wanda so many
years ago. This time there was no Wanda. No one was going to
break the spell. The difference this time was that Jean was
atop Lisa, not the other way around. It was only up to them
who would fall victim and who would conquer. The recognition
hit them both and their hips responded. They began humping
each other like furies. Lisa couldn’t get Jean off of her
but she could furiously grind and jam her pussy at Jean,
aching and willing hard to make Jean cum.
The sounds of smacking bodies resounded across the cove. The
odor of their juices that had been present all along grew
exponentially. The total center of their beings belonged in
their sexual organs. Their pussies humped and banged and
ground into each other. Lisa pushed her clit at Jean every
time she felt the confluence of their now maximally engorged
love-horns. Jean’s top position gave her more of a sense of
control than Lisa felt. She pounded down, down, down, down
into Lisa. She felt her arousal surge, but when she watched
Lisa take three successive sucking breaths, between “ooo,
ooo, oooo’s” she knew Lisa was close to the edge.
She answered her own question of 5 minutes earlier, “You DO
want to get fucked now don’t you! That ‘a girl. Lisa likes
Jean to fuck her.” She spoke of herself in the third person.
“Come on girl, come for Mama. Come for me. Come for me.”
Lisa heard, but she didn’t. It wouldn’t have mattered. She
had reached the precipice, the edge. She had no choice. Lisa
fucked back at Jean for sure. But it was Lisa who now knew
she was really the one GETTING FUCKED. And it was
soooooooooooooooo delicious. “Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! I’m
coming. I’m coming. I’m coming.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.”
The shouts peeled across the cove. Lisa’s shuddering and
spasms gave unchallengeable evidence that her orgasm had
exploded through her body. The two women madly humped each
other. Jean gritting her teeth as she forced as much effort
as her body could muster to ensure that Lisa’s orgasm was as
ferocious as possible and also to convince her that it was
SHE, JEAN who had forced that orgasm from her rival. Lisa’s
shivering orgasm stretched from seconds to a minute and she
still thrust her pussy against Jean’s pounding clit. She
felt Jean’s hard acorn pummeling her clit with pleasure that
felt like a series of tsunamis washing over her, around her,
and through her. Her knees went weak. They no longer pushed
against Jean’s shoulders, but relaxed back, acknowledging
with her body language the submission to Jean’s sexuality
that was now apparent to all.
They remained linked at their pussies for three or four more
minutes. Jean let Lisa’s knees slide outward and back to the
ground. Jean lay atop Lisa, their skin tingling with mutual
pleasure; Lisa’s pleasure from the satiated fulfillment from
her volcanic orgasm; and Jean’s from the sense of power and
victory she had earned from the sexy woman beneath her. Her
own arousal was not gone, but in this moment her orgiastic
threshold had not been crossed and she felt that threshold
ebbing slowly from the “almost there” status that she had
felt just as Lisa crossed it.
Jean stared at Lisa. Their eyes met again. The thoughts that
they shared right now flowed like two streams between their
beautiful eyes. Jean bent down and kissed Lisa,
passionately. Her arms snaked around the back of Lisa’s neck
and Lisa’s reciprocated. Their mouths and tongues danced
together in a sort-of thank you waltz. The passion they had
shared so eagerly had been consummated in the only way it
could; one winner, one loser. But both resolutely affirmed
in their decision to make and take the challenge the other
so beautifully provided.
TO BE CONTINUED