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.