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From: "Bradley Stoke" <bradley_stoke@hushmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Vagina Dialogue (FF) (Bradley Stoke)
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{ASSM} Vagina Dialogue (FF) (Bradley Stoke)

Title: Vagina Dialogue
Author: Bradley Stoke
Keywords: FF
Short Summary: Both Natasha and Julie love the taste of vagina.


[This story has been previously published on Ruthie's Club
(www.ruthiesclub.com) where it was edited by Nat (Father
Ignatius) and illustrated by Djinn.]



Story: Vagina Dialogue (3,743 words)

Both Natasha and Julie love the taste of vagina. In fact,
it's Julie's greatest passion. As the two indulge in a vagina
dialogue, Natasha finds out more about the woman whose bed
and snatch she is enjoying.


For More : /~Bradley_Stoke




	Vagina Dialogue
        ===============

"You love the taste of cunt, don't you?" Natasha remarked.

Julie removed her tongue from the thick lips and folds of
her lover's vulva, and smiled at Natasha, a thin trail of
saliva on her chin.

"Yeah! Nothing beats it! It's got the best taste in the
world."

"And my pussy? How's that compare?"

"It's good! Amongst the best. You've got a world class clit
and I love the taste. No pussy-farts either!"

"You don't like a burst of beaver wind?"

"Smells better than the toilet whiff of a pucker-hole," Julie
admitted, "but it's not what I like best about a cookie."

"You're a bit of a connoisseur, aren't you? How long have
you been the expert?"

"Ever since I first looked up 'vagina' in a medical
dictionary. The labia minora and labia majora. I know all
the terms." Julie gazed up at Natasha who lay on her back,
supporting her weight on her elbows. "You like fingers in
the box?"

"I like a bit of fisting, but not just now. I'm not lubed
enough."

"Pity," said Julie, who nonetheless squeezed in a third
finger to add to the two already inside Natasha. "I give
good wrist. Nice and thin, see!"

"Very nice."

"You don't shave, but you've got a nice trim beaver.
Reminds me of the first few I knew. No thatch to hide the
golden valley. A few strands and sometimes a soft down:
not like the muffs I mostly get to know these days."

"You started early, then?"

"Soon as I could. I always wanted to taste and smell
another girl's quim. Your own is never enough. However
much you diddle, what you get pasted on your fingers is
never as rich as the taste of coochie on the tongue. First
time was simpler than I thought. A girl's knickers come
down more easily than I'd feared. And the mound in the
cotton seam was only a hint of the beauty inside the tight
panties. I'd read D. H. Lawrence's poem and I'd always
liked figs. I didn't expect a fanny to taste like one, though it
does a bit sometimes, but the old goat was right. A cunny's
just like a ripe fig, except it's not got the seeds. That is
unless you've added to the flavour with a bit of fun from
the fruit bowl."

"You mean, courgettes and carrots and the like?"

"Sometimes a banana. Even a cucumber. Sometimes, a bit
of improvisation in the kitchen beats a mail-order dildo or
vibrator, even if the fruit's a bit riper than you thought and
it falls apart in the grip of passion."

"Is it only minge you crave?" Natasha wondered, arching
back as Julie eased in her last finger and pushed a wedge of
fingers backwards and forwards in her increasingly
lubricated orifice.

"What could be better?" Julie asked, as her tongue lapped
on Natasha's clitoris.

Conversation stalled as the two lovers became more
physical in their affection. The only words expressed were
short and generally fairly descriptive as their bodies
entwined, while their fingers, tongues and vaginas battled
together.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," Natasha gasped.

Julie's cries were more guttural and more often than not
muffled by her lover's vulva.

At last, but not for the first time that evening, Natasha
reached a climax. The vowels of her cries stretched out and
were clothed in a faint growl. Julie's own vocal
contribution resembled more the sighs of the dying, though
when she collapsed it was with a huge grin on her face.

"Nothing could be better," Julie finally answered, as she
licked the juice off her slim wrist.

Natasha was grateful that her lover wasn't one of those
women who insisted on wearing bangles or rings that could
leave a girl sore for days to come. Not to mention those
little cuts on the lips that bloodied the urine if you weren't
too careful.

"You've never been tempted to the dark side?" Natasha
wondered.

"Yeah. I've tasted dick. Haven't we all? Men are led by
their balls and they can never say no. But however tasty the
sausage or stiff the salami, it'll always be second-best to the
joy of what's between the curtains. And, anyway, the one-
eyed snake is quite simply the best a man can offer. The
rest of a man's body you can keep. They're just meat-
machines with a one-track mind. My doorway's open to all
for anyone with the right key, but I prefer a porthole in
exchange for my own. On a bad night when there's an itch
that needs scratching, I'll take a man in preference to
flossing with an electric muff-brush, but if there's pussy on
parade I'm in there! I want my tongue on the button and my
fingers in the pocket."

"You're not a cock connoisseur?"

"When you've tasted wine you don't willingly go back to
shandy."

"If only all women felt that way!" Natasha sighed
regretfully.

"More are tempted by the tender sex than you'd imagine,"
Julie boasted. "But I guess it's all a matter of taste. Meat
and two veg make a filling meal, but I like a salad bowl
with fish dressing. When I'm lying on the beach, it's always
the camel toes that catch my eye. I've never gone for the
Lycra bulge. And for me, a good twat is just the best thing
on a good package. I just melt like ice cream on a topless
beach. All that nipple! Not to mention: thigh, navel, neck
and tootsie. What can a woman of taste and discrimination
do, but want to taste the goods on show?"

"Is it always easy for you?"

"Don't you find it so?"

"Not always," Natasha admitted sadly. "Sometimes my
heart goes where there's no hope for satisfaction. There are
more women I've loved than there are women who would
ever love me."

Julie kissed Natasha affectionately. "A looker like you!
You've just got to take the risk. Those little minxes that run
scared? All they need is the right persuasion. You've got to
be ruthless. And anyway if you want to taste muffin,
sometimes you have to focus on the target and disregard
the packaging. The best minge doesn't always come with
the best presentation."

"I could never have sex with someone if I didn't appreciate
their whole body."

"Then you've missed out on a lot. There's as much variety
between the legs as the rest put together. I love the lips.
The outer ones that part and the inner ones that shudder.
The long clits, the short ones, the stubby ones and the fat
juicy ones. And the hair! Who'd believe that so many
beavers were so bushy? I like a fumble in the forest.
Fingers in the bush, tongue on the button, and nose in the
bouquet. Beats finger-fucking your own box."

"So how do you choose the women you go after? Is it the
smell? Is it the smile? Is it something else?"

"The eyes are what tell you whether you're beating a path
to an open door," Julie said. "At least that's what I used to
think. Maybe I'm led by my nose. They say you can smell
sexual desire even if you don't realise it. But I admit I like a
bit of a challenge. That girl at the club last week.
Remember her?"

"The one I saw you go off with at the end of the evening?
The short mousy one with glasses?"

"Yeah. She said she'd only gone to the Cupid's Alley
because her friend was gay, but you could see she was
curious. When I got chatting with her, she kept squirming
like she was really uncomfortable. But I could see she
wanted to know what pussy hair tasted like between her
teeth. It was the eyes, I think, but maybe it was the scent. I
don't know. But to get to know her better I had to keep
telling her I wasn't really interested in getting to know her
that way. I said I just liked a chat. I even said I wasn't really
a muff-diver. Just bi-curious."

"A bit deceitful, don't you think?" Natasha remarked.

"You're such a moral Minnie!" Julie laughed. "Anyhow, it's
not like I'm butch or anything. Most people think I'm as
much a cock-fancier as any girl of the straight and narrow
persuasion. The guys at work all assume it's a man who
tickles my tonsils on the bedsheets. So, little Daphne
thought I was a safe proposition. And, when her friend
went off with Annie and left her behind, and I suggested I
go back with her in the taxi... well, she was eager."

"Already?"

"Well, eager for a friendly face in the testosterone-soaked
streets of Ealing. No one wants to be heckled by a moron
in a baseball cap and trainers," Julie said with a chuckle.
"So, we got on a taxi and I persuaded Daphne to invite me
back for a coffee in her flat in Tooting Bec."

"And was it just a coffee?"

"Anyone fuckoffee?"  Julie joked. "Well, there was coffee.
But there was also the wine she had in the fridge, and I got
her talking about her friend, who's a girl who really knows
the ropes, and she started going on about how she
sometimes wondered what it was like, you know, being a
lesbian or whatever..."

"It's not all a picnic, you know," Natasha remarked.

"Hey! Eating out in the open air beats everything!" Julie
smirked knowingly. "Anyway I soon got round to saying,
you know, that being sort of uncertain, which was a good
tactic, that I often wondered what it was like myself, and
what was it like to kiss another woman. And she sort of got
round to thinking that maybe just kissing wasn't such a bad
idea. Although she'd probably not guessed how easily a bit
of pecking becomes real tongue action and not just on the
mouth..."

"She went all the way?"

"It was a bit of a struggle and there was nearly a whole
bottle of wine needed to reduce those inhibitions, but yeah!
She went all the way. But it was me who did the hard
work. I tell you, though, it was worth it."

"It was?" gasped Natasha, who was stroking the outer lips
of her vulva in guilty arousal.

"She had a real bush. It came almost up to her belly button
and right over her inside thigh. And within all that hair was
the cutest little thing. Those lips had hardly seen any action
to speak of. They were smooth and undamaged. Those
inner lips had never been nibbled, I bet. Her little button
was almost impossible to prise out, but I got my tongue
under it and it swelled just like her puffy nipples. She had
that strong smell I like, as well. Raw and pungent. She
wouldn't put her face in my toy box though, but I could tell
she liked the feel in her own pleasure chamber. She gasped
just like a little girl. Brought back memories of my
schooldays in the girls' loo, I can tell you!"

"She turned a hundred and eighty degrees, you think?"

"Scarcely. She got all weepy and angry afterwards. I had to
get another taxi home. But I'd had my fun."

"Was it fun for her?"

"What a question!" Julie said with mock indignation. "It
was worth it, though."

"Are all your conquests like that?"

"Not the easy ones. Usually a night at the Cupid's Alley or
the New Inn on a Friday or the Crescent Moon is a bit
predictable. There's a lot of pussy on the prowl and it
doesn't take much effort to snaffle snatch. But it's always
better when it's not a foregone conclusion. The fur tastes
better after a bit of a fight. The best is when it's
unexpected. Like at work, for instance."

"At work? You mean at the office? Are there a lot of
lesbians who work in advertising?"

"There are certainly a lot of women who work in the biz.
There was a gorgeous one who worked in the section that
deals in those wanky three inch by five ads for newspapers.
You know: those ads for machine tools and language
guides. Fuck knows what a babe like her was doing in the
most unglamorous niche in the industry..."

"As opposed to...?"

"I work in television advertising. The fucking creme de le
creme. Only the top-paying clients come my way! Anyway,
she was one of those girls who don't know how fucking
gorgeous she was. She dressed like she'd only ever bought
her clothes from Oxfam and she never wore make-up. But,
fucking hell, she was the head-turner from heaven. And
believe me, I was in there straight away. Of course, I've got
an edge on the men when it comes to top-notch tottie. Men
are just fucking useless. They're more expert with dogs
than with the real deal. So, it was easy for me to become
like her best friend at work. Every lunch break, every
fucking coffee break, even the bloody loo breaks, I was
there."

"She sounds very nice," mused Natasha enviously.

"Soon we were going out together in the evenings.
Cinemas, wine bars, even the fucking opera. She likes all
that shit. The things you do for love! She fancied herself a
real aesthete. But it wasn't her views on fucking Puccini or
Verdi that I was after. And eventually, after longer in the
wine bar than she generally liked and a few girlie kisses, I
got her knickers down. Fuck! She was nervous. But I
pretended I was just about as green as her. I guess she
wasn't able to recognise the signs, even when I met an old
girlfriend at the Covent Garden Opera House of all fucking
places."

"So did she like it?"

"Not as much as me, that's for sure. And the one time was
all she wanted. Our friendship at work just came to a
sudden death. At least she didn't slap me like some
ungrateful bitches have done. But that hole of hers was
well worth the digging. Not much hair, and what she had
there was as blonde as what she's got on her head and
straight over her shoulders. A lot more curly and wiry,
mind you. And her clit was a gem. Not too long, but easy
to get at. Parting the ways was harder. Fucking Moses had
it easy! These lips were a real struggle to get into, but the
tongue as always smoothes the path. She'd had boyfriends,
she said, but none of them spent much time down there. I
guess she let their willies do all the work. I'm sure she
liked it, but she never let me stay down long enough."

"Did she taste any of what you have to offer?"

"Sadly not. She nibbled my nipples, chewed on my tongue
and stroked my bush, but she wouldn't bring herself to
reciprocate in kind where it really matters."

"Sometimes it works better when you skim the surface
rather than dive in deep."

"You think so?  I prefer a bit of real action. The best sex is
when the woman you're with knows exactly what to do
with her hand and mouth. Mine's a pussy with a real war
record. I've had some of the best tongues in the business
inside these lips."

Julie opened wide her legs and stroked the gash inside her
labia. She let her middle finger curve inside and gasped
with the excitement. Natasha watched, but didn't touch,
although it was obvious that there'd be no resistance if she
did.

"What do you think of my little treasure?" Julie asked.

"I'm not as expert as you," Natasha admitted. "I've known a
few, you know, but often it just doesn't seem right to spend
so much time down there. I think there's so much more
than a vagina to a woman."

"Maybe," Julie mused, but clearly not convinced. "I like
mine. When I'm lonely or between long-term lovers, I give
it as much attention as I can. Apparently, there are women
who don't masturbate at all. Poor dears! They don't know a
fucking thing."

"I've had lovers who've never done that. It's weird. All men
do it, I hear, but women... Perhaps it's the company they
crave..."

"Fuck that! But no way is solitaire as good as a game for
two. Or even three or four."

"You've done that?"

"Often. Or as often as I can. Two tongues on a tootie is like
double the pleasure. There was another girl I made love
with who was a bit unsure. But me and Nessa, we worked
together on that one."

"Nessa? She's the tall girl with the short hair, isn't she?"

"Once she shaved it all off. Tongue on scalp, slit sliding on
stubble, it's fucking magic! I fucking love her. And we've
made love more often than rabbits in the spring. But we
both had the hots for Harriet. You know her? A femme
from the Cat's Cradle who used to live with Sylvia?"

"I know Sylvia. She's as butch as a motor mechanic can be.
But Harriet...? No, it doesn't ring a bell."

"Well, Harriet thought of herself as strictly a one-woman
woman. But when Sylvia started to play the field, we could
see that Harriet didn't like it one little bit. You'd love
Harriet if you knew her. She's a bit like the tottie you
tickle. Slim, petite, and with more freckles than the stars at
night. So, me and Nessa, our minds were like focused the
same way. But rather than fight, we worked together. I did
the moves, while Nessa stayed in the background. She
knows I'm the one with more of the charm that sways the
uncommitted. I made a note of Harriet's habits and made
sure I was the one at the bar when she bought the drinks. It
wasn't long till we were seeing each other in other places
than the usual clubs. She kept on saying she was still
faithful to her butch belle but with Sylvia doing the rounds,
it was obvious she wanted to demonstrate that two could
play that game. What she didn't expect was that three can
also make a parcel."

"You mean: you and Nessa?"

"Of course. It was what we agreed. I'd got Harriet down to
her bra and stockings, when, as we'd planned, Nessa made
a show. And by then, little Harriet was pinned down. She'd
gone too far by then, having swigged enough of my
whiskey, not to accept the inevitable when Nessa slipped
off her jeans and blouse. And Harriet's minge was a jewel.
I don't know what Sylvia used to do with the girl, though I
can guess having had my own taste of her technique, but
Harriet's lips have seen action. She might've been a one-
girl girl, but she's known more fist than a velvet glove. We
both got our fingers well inside. In fact, we got as far as
two fists in at the same time. That was a fucking first!"

"Sounds painful."

"I'm not sure she really liked it either, but when it's two on
one, it's difficult to say no. And she shaved it as well. A lot
of femmes do that. More fucking feminine, I guess, though
I suspect it's something to do with that sub-dom stuff a lot
of them are into. It's like a femme wants to be more a girlie
than a straight sister could ever be. But there's a difference
between playing the game as to having it for real. And I
can tell you, whatever we did to little Harriet, it was
definitely for real!"

"It sounds a bit cruel," sighed Natasha, moving slightly to
one side on the double bed she shared. "Exploitative, in
fact."

"She loved it! Well, she squirted like a cow giving milk. I
got a bit of cunt juice right in my eye. But once was
enough for her. And it wasn't long after till she left Sylvia
for good, not that the butch bitch noticed. She's got into
other stuff than just minge. And I've no idea what's
happened to Harriet. She doesn't go down the Cat's Cradle
any more. Or anywhere else as far as I know."

"Perhaps group sex isn't what she wants in her love life."

"Well, pity her."

"So, there's been quite a few women you've seduced in one
way or another?"

"Seduction's what it's all about!" Julie boasted. "The chase
and the pursuit is what make it all worthwhile. And with
the rewards on offer, you can't help but binge on what's in
the sweet shop. The girls I've known. Fuck me! (And,
please, I mean that literally). There was Donna from
Marketing at work. Slim and silky. And her vertical smile
was a grin as wide as you'll ever see. She even had one of
those weird porn star pillar-box pube shaves; although she
said it was just to keep her bush under control. She was a
girl who found a new lease of life. I felt like fucking Santa
Claus: bringing her the best present a girl and her snatch
could ever hope for. If only all girls saw it that way."

"Are any of your conquests less than enthusiastic about the
Sapphic option?"

"I've had some slap me. One really lay into me when she
woke up after a night of too much wine and, as far as I was
concerned, not nearly enough sex. I had bruises on the
shoulders and breasts for weeks after! Most women are just
a bit confused if they hadn't known what a girl can do for
another girl before. Okay, it's good to go for a woman who
knows the game and plays by the rules, but if you really
want to savour cunt you've got to play a wider field. I'm a
woman who knows what she wants and I'll do whatever's
fucking necessary to get it."

"I see," remarked Natasha, who looked distinctly
uncomfortable as she spread out on her lover's cotton
sheets.

"So what do you think?" asked Julie, with a self-satisfied
smirk.

"You're a woman who seduces other women just so you
can taste fanny butter. A woman who mostly loves women
for the taste of quim."

"Yeah?"

"I think that it's you who is the real cunt!"





For More : /~Bradley_Stoke

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