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.