1. Who Loses, Wins


    Date: 3/1/2016, Categories: Lesbian, Author: LaChatte, Rating: 8, Source: LushStories

    shares everything and her fulgurant (and oh, so noisy), orgasms wash over me every time, as if it were my own clitoris straining to escape the confines of it’s cute little hood. I think our bond comes from the fact that we are, both of us, truly bi. Not straight, nor lesbian, simply students of the teachings of sex, Omni-sex and lots of it! We’ve both had our fair share of men between our legs, her probably more than me recently if truth be told. We’ve listened to each other cumming like trains, impaled on long, veiny, masculine cocks, or purring like cats-that-got-the-cream as some beautifully able feminine tongue lapped us to heaven as only women intuitively can. Always, if it were not us together or with my man beaming at the choice of six holes to fill, we would discuss the previous night’s follies over steaming hot coffee and buttery warm croissants the next day. But whoever we’ve had, we always feel the need to resource ourselves, nestled up together, lovingly entwined in head-to-toe ecstasy, the security of mutual understanding allowing the body to revel in its excesses until the beautiful sleep takes over. Anyway, I digress but please note, gentle reader, that I was obliged to pay attention to my kiki whilst penning this section (I type perfectly well with just one hand)! “Who loses wins: how’s that work, then? What the hell is it?” I asked with mock shock. My non-verbal answer was to be led to her room, where she sat me down on the bed and proceeded to undress. It ...
    didn’t take long, there weren’t many layers on her. However, she did it with aplomb, swinging her boyish hips, pouting, pushing her cute little titties up and squeezing. Seductive, effective: wet! “Look how pink and hard my buds are,” she lanced, flicking her nubs and circling her crinkly aureoles. Mine, I could feel, were like chapel hat pegs by now, sticking out brazenly in a wanton display of eager hunger. “Just explain your silly game Celine,” pretty sure by now that, whatever it was, it was going to involve the bed. I could feel my pussy betraying me, warm droplets pearling at the entrance to my now gaping vulva, sticking the flesh of my inner thighs together so I felt obliged to open them just that little bit wider. “Easy," she replied, “given we both want something different tonight, we’re gonna make love and the person who cums first, loses." Bugger my damn pussy! She always betrays my resolve. I could feel the yearning welling up inside of me, spreading like wild-fire and knocking at my cervix, which responded with a yawn of approval. I was wet, hell; I was completely soaked, horny, hungry and shaking with pre-orgasmic anticipation. “Better than flipping a coin,” I said with pretend indifference. “Right then,” ignoring my flippancy, “on the bed, 69, fingers, vibros, tongues-anything goes. I presume you want to be on top, Miss Bossy?”. Boy, did this girl know me too well! I knelt between Celine’s toned legs, placed my hands on her inner thighs, twisted around and lay on ...
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