Dickish Direction: Shemale

*Shliiiick*.

Summer's body moved, slowly, haltingly at first. A timid, almost frightened motion, but a purposeful one nonetheless. A motion with meaning and undeniable intent. The woman's face, youthful and naturally, girlishly cute, was shadowed by the bright lights above her, and seemed to Malena already lost in bliss. Her jaw hanging loose, her lips agape in a narrow oval, her wide blue eyes dully shining with twin sparks of newborn passion even in the darkened shadows of her face.

As her crotch, her vagina, slowly began to slide along Malena. The wondrous shape, the glorious pressure of the younger women's labia beginning to squirm upwards, sliding along and between Malena's own. A slickness left in its wake as it traveled, joining and mingling with the moistness Malena could feel beginning to pour from inside herself, her own body being swept away by the physicality of their joining.

Joy. Fulfillment. Those words were closer.

For the first time she could rightly recall, Malena had little thought to give for the watchful eye of the cameras beside her. Her joy was her own, this time. And it was raw. It was not shaped by her practice. Not sculpted for an audience. Not meant to be shared.

Not with any but one, at any rate. Not with any but the woman whose legs were entwined with her own, limbs firmly curling around limbs.

The woman whose vaginal fluids were mixing with Malena's as her cunt ground upwards, ever upwards, sliding gracefully along Malena's crotch as she began to be sexed. A sudden burst of excitement blooming anew in her loins as her clitoris was touched, then engulfed, by the encroaching, slimy, warm wetness of the ascending erotic void.

Then, as if Summer was unable to bear any further stimulation, it stopped. Lingering for a moment, soaking in its own sensation. Leaving Malena to wait, to recover, her own capacity almost as met. Frighteningly quickly, wonderfully easily.

Summer's bust, a modest, perky thing, shuddered and danced above Malena as its owner breathed in, breathed out.

And then, as gradually as it had climbed, the flesh of her vagina began to fall back from whence it came, a second pang of sensation shared again between them as flesh met flesh. As clits, shrouded but sensitive, joined for a brief, lusty embrace, then separated once more.

All too quickly, they separated.

*Shliiick*.

Malena quaked with eroticism, with joy, the sound of her arousal made manifest. And she heard her partner's body echo the sentiment.

And, vague, but nevertheless somehow piercing, she also heard a grunt of disgust from somewhere in front, somewhere unseen beyond the bed on which she lay.

"Ugh. Keep it quiet, too. I honestly don't know how you people can live with those messy...THINGS. You wouldn't catch a MAN slopping all over himself like that, I can tell you that much."

"With all the rest you have going for you, you really should think about following their example, at least in that regard. We'll never get anywhere if you don't."

An odd request. An impossible request, decried Malena's addled mind, annoyed at its interruption.

Of course. At once, spoke Malena's body, elated to obey.

And Summer's own body began again to rise, the gliding of her vagina again dispelling any conscious thought from Malena's head. But neither that ascent, nor the ones to follow, would ever again be quite the same as the first. For either of the two women laid bare on that mattress.

For Summer's body had received the same direction as Malena's, and both had chosen to act on it.

*Shlii-*

At that moment, just as they tensed in preparation for their continued contact, the women could feel - in a brief, confusing, foggy instant - that the wetness had disappeared. That the moistness had somehow left them, the juices of their arousal having evaporated almost as rapidly as they had first taken form. Their skin at once dried, unlubricated. Their sexes, bereft of their sexual fluids. Leaving only fiery flesh resting against fiery flesh.

A strange, unfamiliar feeling to one such as Malena, so experienced was she. Even through the haze her thoughts had become, it seemed to her somewhat paradoxical.

For the women's lust had not left with it. That, after all, had not been its direction.

No, their lust did not abate. Altogether the opposite, in fact. Malena could feel - physically, sexily feel - as her crotch began to swell with new blood, new vigor. As if to replace her lost secretions.

The feeling was a minor one, but nonetheless apparent to the befuddled woman, aware as she currently was of her cunt. The sensation was an abnormal, almost alien one. Certainly foreign to her, at least. A slight bloatedness making itself apparent to her mind, unfocused though it found itself. A slight pressure blossoming within her groin, pressing its flesh out in a needful bulge. The mound of her sex becoming almost a hill, puffing out, enflaming. Not far, nor painfully; a subtle change, one that might even have been missed, or at least forgotten about with time. Were one not to touch that crotch, not to stimulate that sex.

It was instantly met with the similarly enflamed, quivering, tender loins of Summer.

Malena sucked in a breath of air, the coolness stark as it flowed within the furnace of her heated body. And she began herself to move against the body astride her, the motion seeming to her suddenly as natural as the breath he had taken.

Her nethers throbbed with fulfillment, as they resumed their motion.

As they followed their direction.

---

There was friction. It wasn't a smooth, gliding motion, as it had been. The sudden dryness of her loins had caught her off guard. And it was noticeable.

But, as the woman beneath her began to fight the friction, as she felt the skin of her vulva bunch and pull against the pelvis that had begun to move beneath, as her rounded, bloated mons slid against and compressed ever more with that below her, the weight of her body only heightening the motion's resistance; as she experienced every pass of her lips, to and fro, across and against, again and again, Summer felt no pain. No discomfort, nor chafe. No desire to stop.

And Summer felt every moment of it, every motion of it as what had once been falsehood was made truth. As Summer's pleasure spilled over, and into, and around the woman within her. As Ashley's vagina began to tremor. And as she was finally, improbably, driven to orgasm.

Dryly, quietly, without even an audible cry, at least beyond the slight series of breathy, labored squeaks that managed to escape her lips. Without the familiar squelching, moist fullness she'd shared rarely before, on very special occasions, in particularly passionate sessions with her Marco.

But, as she felt the muscular contractions thundering between her legs, shuddering through her groin, the very flesh of her vagina writhing within her as if trying to cry out with its own sexual voice, she knew she couldn't call it anything else.

She felt comparable quakes mirroring hers in the moving flesh beneath.

And Ashley knew she had to have more of them. That leaving was no longer an option for her, if ever even it had been. She knew then that she would never again be able to go back to that apathy of her work prior. Not truly.

For the Director had told her to enjoy herself. He'd been quite clear on that.

"Enjoying yourselves, are we? That's...a bit better, I'll grant you that. But you aren't really making full use of your bodies. That's a problem. You've got breasts, too, you know; it'd be a shame to leave them out of the fun, don't you think? I wouldn't mind seeing a bit more focus on those; at least they have the decency to keep themselves attractively clean. Unlike the other parts you women are so smitten with. I can at least try to stomach looking at your upper halves, that way."

Her titties?

Ashley glanced down, looking towards her perky breasts, suddenly acutely aware of them. Suddenly directed to BE aware of them. Aware of the way they hung slightly down from her, what flesh she had succumbing to gravity's pull, her nipples long since erected, lightly shivering from the shared motion of Malena below her. Not large, but feminine. Cute, but respectably womanly.

Aware of the larger orbs of flesh nestled seductively below her. The rounded globes that instead seemed to practically scream of fertility. Of feminine sex, and female sexuality.

Give them some fun, too?

Mash her boobies together with Malena's, maybe?

The corners of her mouth, loosely opened, turned upwards slightly. The cloudy haze of words within her mind boiling happily away as a new goal to fulfill was added to their broth.

That sounded good. That's what she was supposed to do. She SHOULD get some use out of them, shouldn't she. That'd feel great, she bet.

And, as if in response to her thoughts, Malena's arms began to lift, Ashley allowing them freedom as she released them from her own. The pin now removed, they snaked out, and up, and around her, interlocking and hooking together gently on her back. Pulling Ashley downwards towards her partner. Closing the angle between what parts of their body were not yet joined, until those parts finally themselves WERE joined, her legs shifting slightly downwards to accommodate the new position.

She felt as they embraced. And felt as Malena's body moved beneath her. And, as they became more completely as one, she felt as they, too, began to move as one. As she began to complement the movement with her own. In turn. Rhythmically. It seemed to her somehow the natural extension.

Scraping. Sliding. Stimulating.

Breasts, and bellies, and beating hearts all pinned together, connected with each other in a heated dance of flesh. As one body rose along the other, fell. As the other followed suit.

And the pounding beats of those hearts began themselves to match the steady rhythm of their motion. Or, perhaps, their bodies matched their rhythm to the beat of their hearts. Either way, it didn't matter to them. For it was no conscious act.

No, they were timing themselves merely to the pulse of blood they could feel within each other. The pounding within the pinned, smothered flesh of their busts, the beat they could FEEL within their partner as their nipples began too to play against each other, scraping along. In tandem. Adding a new movement to their symphony.

Even as the pulse could be felt, almost as strongly, within the blood-filled flesh of their sexes, continuing and renewing their sapphic kiss with every note. Even as it could be felt, strangely strongly, in the pulsing, erecting clitoral flesh that had begun to peek arousedly outwards from the crowns of those sexes, their shallowed angle placing greater and greater emphasis on them. Their motion, their all-consuming friction beginning to leave the dried lips below slightly wanting. Each beat of the drum signaling another all-too-short meeting betwixt them.

The arms around Ashley's midriff then began to pull more tightly against her. She could see, in the shadows below her, the lower woman's sculpted features, flushed almost entirely crimson. Betraying her contentment. And, perhaps, a bit of her intent.

For the embrace was steadily beginning to intensify every sensation of their movement even beyond what Ashley had thought her limit. But she did not fight it. It seemed...necessary.

And it couldn't be said to be uncomfortable. Rather, it was a gradual, slow tightening. An easing, steady tightness, if a profoundly constricting one; it would be suffocating, almost, were it not for the slowness. But, as it was, her breath was not yet taken from her, even as her breasts pressed firmly against the mountains of flesh below. Pushing against them forcefully. Sending her eyes aflickerer as Malena made almost to crush her beautiful, shapely bust against Ashley's more modest one, leaving not a single space through which for air to flow, for eye or camera to view the curves of their bodies. Bringing herself as close to the summits of their womanly, erotic pleasure as she physically was able.

Almost further, it seemed to the captured girl, her breath now indeed beginning to struggle for purchase, even as she felt the firmness of her chest almost baking in the warmth of their shared, pounding lifeblood. The pressure spreading and rolling across her bust, moving from one breast to another, swaying from the gentle, bobbing flesh of her boob to the screamingly sensitive tit at their tips as ever more flesh found purchase against flesh. Each labored, rubbing tilt of one body into another bringing another pang of sensation to the unseen, animated orbs of compressed carnal flesh. Each wondrous, compacted hill of sexual sensation crowned with the enflamed peaks of her erected nipples, grating sublimely against their twins.

Though, a distant voice within her seemed to note, something about their joining seemed somehow...abnormal. The heights of her pleasure striking Ashley as improbable, the depth to which she found herself plunged into pleasure almost impossible. Her tits, chafing against those grander ones below, should by all means be overstimulated - perhaps even in pain. Their compacting flesh pinching and crushing uncomfortably beneath her body.

But they weren't. They simply grew in grandeur, in fact, sending increasingly delighted thrills through her spine, her pussy below twitching in feminine glee as they did. And so the voice had no audience, and her breasts remained stricken, unseen within the gulf of their bodies.

Though Ashley's legs did shudder then, the voice proven not entirely incorrect. Not only her breasts, but her body almost overfilled with ever-mounting need. A need centralizing itself within that beat. Within her blood, her FLESH.

Within the drumming, insistent need she felt straining from her clitoris, in fact. She bit her lip, a sudden urge to alter her angle further still being again met gladly by her and Malena both. Being met with fervor, as each woman began to dig their crotch deeper into the rosy flesh of their partner, as they began scraping and stimulating their clitoral hoods as directly as they could. Ashley's hips sending her up, and down, and ever against its pair, against the quivering, enflamed button of pleasure Malena called her own. The motion continuing, feeding the need - but never quite sating it. Filling her with elation, sending her loins aquiver once more, but never quite scratching the itch she felt stirring within them. Not directly.

They frenziedly worked against each other, hungry for a release, for a satisfaction of the sudden urge that never quite seemed to come. Up, and down, in turn, in tandem. Seventeen lusty, animated exchanges. Eighteen. The force with which they pressed into the other extreme, their womanhoods chafing, rubbing, folding around each other.

Then, almost simultaneously, the two ceased their movements. The force of their thrusts beginning to abate, beginning to slow, before stopping completely. Allowing their exhausted lips a moment's rest against the other.

And yet, even now, both could still feel it. It bothered them both. Something was missing. It wasn't enough. Each felt as the beat throbbed within the flesh of their loins, their most sensitive of skin demanding to be touched. To be satisfied. And...to be used to satisfy, Ashley found herself remembering, then. Her clit. There was...there was something...

Ah, yes. The relevant words swam again to the surface of her mind. Her clitoris. She wasn't really able to use it for sex, was she. Not truly. Not solely.

And that had been an instruction, after all. She had a job to do. Directions to follow.

Her crotch cried out to her, its desire to press against its pair almost impossible to deny. And Ashley knew that the her named Summer would never even dream of denying it.

And so, frustrated, the women again pressed against each other, struggling to connect, grasping at whatever flesh they could reach. But this time with more pinpoint direction, more precise purpose. The women's instincts beginning again to drive their motion. The intent of their primal urges solely to meet, and touch, and mate the jewels of their sexes once more, each still only just peeking out, unseen, from within their fleshy homes, within the darkened cleft of their bodies.

Only this time, as meet they did, as each small, circular nub of clitoral tissue was met by its peer, there they were left. Left to sensually probe and prod at the other's tiny form, the only movement provided each that of the ever-present quiver of the women's hearts.

For a moment, the room was still, the only sound that of the rhythmic, strained breaths each woman took, their bodies clasped tightly against each other. The Director, manning his cameras, stared in silence, his attention focused as it had never before that day been.

For a strange...obsession that begun to manifest in the young Leon's mind. A sudden interest. True, he felt an urge to say something - he had for some time now, in fact - but somehow, for some reason, his tongue was stayed. He felt like it wouldn't be right of him TO speak. Felt like this was an important moment - one meant to be witnessed, to be captured. Not to be interrupted. For he could sense, innately, without concrete reason, that something had begun to change for the better in the scene before him. That what he viewed through his lens was, suddenly, no longer quite so depraved to his eye. And this confused him.

And so he allowed the moment to stretch, grow. The rhythm and heat of the two almost palpable within the room, even to him.

And then, without fanfare, the moment - the seeming eternity of seconds stretching into seconds - came to an end. The need at last, finally, came to a climax, their contact at last bearing fruit, bearing release.

As, abruptly, they were stung.

It was a dull, but strikingly, disconcertingly painful sensation. A very out-of-place searing pang, like a needle-thin wound suddenly spiking through their most private of parts, shooting straight, without detour, from somewhere deep, deep within them. Up from their innards, through their pelvis, and straight out their thrumming, enamored, embracing clits. Ashley winced, momentarily drug out of her stupor - and, a second later, witnessed a similar pained twitch in the face of Malena.

But then, as swiftly as their sexes were seared, it was over. Ashley's leg jerked slightly with instinctual, reflexive motion as she felt a certain relieved release take place within her, the uncomfortable flash over almost before it had even began, her mound left throbbing vigorously and satisfactorily in its wake. And she was left again to bask in pure, pleasant sensation.

Neither was entirely certain what had transpired.