Between Larissa's Legs Ch. 03

This story builds to a climax chapter by chapter. You will enjoy it much more and it will make more sense if you read them in sequence and save Chapter 5 for last.

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That was the beginning of the most intensely sexual period in Larissa's young life, when her handsome and rich boyfriend, who had already swept her off her feet, won her body as well as her soul through passion and physical seduction and carried her to greater and greater heights of desire and satisfaction.

She could not believe her luck! She had gone in four months from a lonely stay-at-home girl, attractive but frumpy and repressed, to a charmed life, out every night with this most glamorous and accomplished older man who treated her like a princess and expanded her horizons in every way. Yet, ever the realist at heart, Larissa could see problems in everything and she worried about three in this relationship: 1) should she move in with him? (and would he accept her cat?), 2) should she quit her job? (now that her boyfriend's law firm had finally got her bond-rating employer's business, it didn't seem like there was a conflict of interest anymore), 3) what was it all about, the thing with her twat?

Turner had taught her that word -- twat -- and had made her comfortable using it in casual conversation with him, along with crude words like quim, cooch, cunt, pussy, snatch, beaver, cooter, chach, poon, snatch, and vadge. She learned that because she shaved her fabulous vulva (except for the little triangle of hair over her pubic bone), it was a wugget. She learned the real names for her twat's most basic parts, like the fornix. She read up on the operation, care and maintenance of her clit. They needed an extensive vocabulary for her private parts because her twat had become a big part of their life as a couple and they often needed to talk about it.

Larissa knew that she was attractive, but not beautiful, in a sweet, brown-haired, skinny-body, small-busted sort of way. But she had always considered her private parts to be too big, ugly and dirty and so it was hard for her to accept that to someone else they might be beautiful and exciting. Turner seemed to find an entire erotic world in the pink folds of her vagina, the translucent texture of her elastic labia, the prominent mounds of her outer lips, and, above all, her long, thick, vibrant female member, a clit for the ages, resonant with eroticism, focus of her stimulation and his generosity, all to be finally washed and anointed with her abundant secretions that gushed forth and the sweet, clean, intoxicating odor of desire and satisfaction they brought forth from inside her.

Almost every time they were together, and always when she spent the night, Turner would conclude the date with an hour or more of pussy-licking, bringing her off again and again with his talented tongue and lips before finishing them both off with a deeply satisfying but ultimately anticlimactic fuck. Over and over again, but with infinite variations of subtlety, seduction, enticement, erotic progression, and poetry his mouth would end up between the huge outer lips on her prominent mound, licking her most sensitive parts, tugging on her long flappy labia, sucking the juices from her wet hole, lapping and drawing in her oversize clitoris, which became very large when she was aroused, which was all the time when he was orally pleasing her.

On weekends this could go on for hours. Turner would pleasure her in bed, by the pool, in his car when they were in a secluded spot, in hotel rooms when they went away for a long weekend, outdoors when they hiked up the mountain, on the loading dock in the back the museum of science and industry, and, once, in the back of a limousine that was taking them to a charity ball.

He almost never stopped until she had had at least three orgasms from oral alone, and then, rock hard, he would mount her and ride her to a final shared, usually simultaneous, orgasm that would leave her exhausted and him throbbing inside her, as his abundant semen squished and her pelvis quivered from the long, intense stimulation as his seed seeped out around his softening dick and spilled under them. That presented something of a problem in the limousine but it cleaned up ok in the end once the chauffeur got some paper towels.

Larissa didn't know which she liked better: the hours (literally) that Turner spent staring appreciatively at her exceptionally beautiful and large genitalia and pleasuring her with his mouth and taking his fill of her texture and warmth and wetness, or the final, ecstatic penetration after an excruciatingly long and intense buildup, ending in the gorgeous feeling of being filled by him and his copious seed.

But there was variety, too. It was not all the same and it never became boring. Very soon after they began their mutual adventure of exploring the capabilities of Larissa's wondrous vagina, Turner introduced his equally talented fingers to the repertoire. He did his first finger penetration after giving her a huge oral orgasm and while she was still foggy from her bliss he inserted first one, then two fingers into her. In her relaxed condition, she accepted them readily and marveled at how good they felt as they prodded and probed and tapped lightly on the little hard knob that she later learned was her cervix and with which they would become very well acquainted. Soon he was regularly plumbing her depths with his fingers and her ecstasy shot to new heights one night when he curled his fingers and caressed a spongy, squishy spot just behind her pubic bone -- oh did it feel good!

Soon he was spending as much time rubbing the pad of his finger on her G-spot as he was sucking her long, quivering clit and she learned how to slide into extravagant, satisfying, mind-blowing orgasms from either one. Sometimes she felt that he was training her, like a lion-tamer trains a big cat to jump through a hoop, and the thought pleased her because it meant that he was dominant, she was submitting, and she was learning, not only new tricks but a new way of relating to the world, through her body and through her emotions instead of with her intellect. In the privacy of their bed, she was more than happy for him to possess her and to play her body -- her vagina, mostly -- as if it were his instrument.

After teaching her about her G-spot, he spent more time on it and over a period of several weeks he would often spend a very long time just bringing her to her first orgasm with his fingers, massaging the outside of her vulva at the same time that he was stimulating her inside. It always felt good and she always came from it but one evening she had a new experience! He had taken an even longer time than usual and great care to build her up slowly and to keep her on edge for a long time -- she knew it was going to be a big one! But she was completely unprepared for the overwhelming, spasming, volcanic orgasm that came, accompanied by a long stream of fluid that came gushing out of her, over his hands and onto the sheets!

Turner had taught her to squirt!

At first she was humiliated! She thought she had peed herself! But Turner laughed and kissed her, first on the twat and then on the lips (when she tasted herself on his mouth, she tasted sweet) and told her it was ejaculation, just like a man! It felt so good! From then on, she loved doing it. It was something her body could do that was special!

Released from her hang-ups, finally accepting that her oversized genitals were not ugly, and newly aware that her body was really a remarkably refined and responsive creation capable of great joy and receiving great pleasure, Larissa was more confidant and relaxed and accepting of herself. She did not beat herself up anymore for her shortcomings, or compare her skinny figure or her small tits to other women she imagined were better looking. If she was good enough for Turner, she was world class, became her attitude.

She still did not like to wear a bathing suit in public or around other people, however. The outlines of her big mound and cleft and the bulge from her oversize labia were too obvious under the fabric, and because the rest of her was skinny, her visibly female attributes were even more exaggerated. She got a bikini just to wear around him, nobody else, but that was a waste of money, because she was quickly made naked soon as they were alone. So it did not take long after their first copulation for the lovers to spend most of their time together nude at his home. This made it all the easier for Turner to turn her on and initiate yet another oral-genital makeout session, whenever either of them felt the urge.

Larissa experienced one sexual breakthrough after another, and they all involved her pussy! After teaching her to squirt, Turner was now inserting more fingers. He had mastered the skill of twiddling her clit at the same time that he rubbed her G-spot and even managed to get his tongue almost an inch deeper into her by pulling her vagina open with his fingers! He was up to four fingers now and he was routinely tapping her cervix and moving it around after she was relaxed enough to enjoy it. She thought that within a few weeks he would try to put his whole hand up there, something that she had read on-line was called "fisting". She was not sure if she would like it, but everything else he had done to her she had loved, so why not try it? Then beyond that there was something called "creampie" that she had heard about and an endless possibility of insertions, big and multiple, with all kinds of objects: plastic, glass, metal, you name it, some of them electrical and moving, others quiet, some you sat on and some you pushed into yourself, but all of them long! Larissa felt that she and Turner had years to explore the fine, nuanced erotic possibilities of her twat.

But although Larissa was happy to keep exploring her own vagina with her man, taking it one step at a time and learning through experience just what her wonderful, wet cavity was capable of doing, there was another goal taking shape in her mind. The ultimate sexual act for her talented twat was to channel his potent sperm into her receptive womb and lead it to a fertile egg and then, job temporarily done except for entertainment during the period to follow, come back into play nine months later, when the creation of their conception came barreling through it in the opposite direction. Copulation! Insemination! Fertilization! Impregnation! Procreation!

Some day, maybe not long in the future, they would make a baby together, she was sure! She would go off the pill, he would impregnate her with great ceremony, and her life and body would change forever! Maybe during pregnancy her boobs would grow! Maybe she would put on weight, not too much but enough to fill out her frame! Maybe her hips would widen, so she would have a butt Turner would want to look at! Maybe her white thighs would grow just enough that her pussy wouldn't look so huge any more between them!

Well, he hadn't said anything about a lasting commitment or marriage, but by the late summer every time he went down on her, and that was getting to be almost every day, sometimes twice, she started thinking about carrying Turner's child. It made the sex even better. AAA, in her book.

And for variety, Larissa sometimes went down on Turner, too. She was shy about it at first -- she did not have much experience with fellatio. But seeing how enthusiastically Turner licked her pussy, she decided that it was only fair that she reciprocate! So she learned. At first, she took his eager, stiff cock into her mouth to get him excited. It was quickly obvious that he did not need her to suck dick to get him excited! On the contrary, he acted like he wanted to save himself, so that he could deposit his pent-up semen into her pussy with all his energy at the end of their love-making. After all, he was 40, 14 years older than she was, and it was getting harder for him to come more than a couple of times in a night, but he didn't think to mention that to her and she didn't notice it herself, because of her limited experience. (The first couple of times with a boy, he made a mess on her hand before he even got to the good part. But on the plus side, he was ready to go again a couple of minutes later.) She liked it that Turner could stay hard a long time at a stretch and that's what she noticed.

He liked having his cock sucked much more at the very end of their love-making, after he had satisfied himself orally in her glorious orifice and then come copiously in her capacious quim. When he pulled out, his penis was coated thickly with his rich white sperm and her clear sweet secretions. He liked to watch her to take him and all the lovely wetness into her warm and inviting mouth, sucking out the last few drops of his ejaculate and keeping him stiff a little longer. On some nights, he was able to penetrate her a second time, adding a thinner, watery load to her saturated pussy.

Larissa had felt intimidated at first, in Turner's luxurious home and with his erotic art setting seemingly unattainable standards of beauty and sensuality. Like that little pewter figurine on his side table, for example. Larissa had taken a good look at it and it was an exquisite piece, as finely wrought as if it was made of silver. It was an image of a woman, head thrown back, eyes closed, breasts heaving, back arched, squatting on an invisible penis and having herself an epic orgasm. Just a few months ago she would have been so intimidated by it, because it was so explicit. Now she loved it, because every time she saw it she was in Turner's bed and it inspired her to emulate its perpetually orgasming subject!

By September, they had made a new lifestyle for themselves. She was spending all her free time at his home, most of it nude, and had brought over the cat (who tried to escape twice, and who always hissed and ran away from Turner). She was thinking about giving up her apartment entirely, but her conservative conscience kept telling her not to do it until he made a commitment. A long-term commitment. She sensed that it might be coming but he hadn't said anything yet. She needed to broach the subject if he did not. But everything was going so well! Did she really want to say anything that might spoil the mood?

Life was too good. Or was it?