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From: an338903@cris.com (Jackie)
Subject: REPOST: Dueling Clits -- Part 1/3b (mast, f/f, lingerie)
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>>> REPOST: "Dueling Clits" Part 1/? (mast, f/f, lingerie)

This story-series contains graphic descriptions of sole female
masturbation, strip-teasing in lingerie, and female-female loving. If
you are:

     a) Under 18 years old
     b) Offended by any of those graphic actions
     c) Feel these are against your Community Standards

Please STOP reading and IMMEDIATELY LEAVE and CLOSE
this file !!!!!

===============================================

Hi, again,

I hope you enjoy reading them. Any comments, pats on the back,
or criticisms will be *gratefully* accepted. Flames will be totally
ignored. Thanks.

                    Jackie

===============================================

           Dueling Clits ~~ Part 1

               (Copyright 1995)

  by Jackie ( an338903@anon.penet.fi)


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.


[continued in Part 2]



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