Between Larissa’s Legs Ch. 05

Ass

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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Larissa thought hard about what Kiki had said, during the long drive back to the city. She decided that Kiki was right. So what if Turner was obsessed with her pussy and they had both made orally pleasuring it the center of their relationship. People lose their looks, men lose their erections, and some people lose their minds, but pussies are forever, she thought to herself. Hers wasn’t going anywhere she wasn’t.

Turner was going to be out of town all week at that big trial. His flight had already left, so when she reached the city she stopped at his house (she had a key by now) to pick up her very confused but very relieved cat. She was going to spend the week at her own apartment. It would give her time to think. She wouldn’t stay at Turner’s this week. That would be too confusing.

Before she left she went into the bedroom where they had spend so many ecstatic hours and looked again at the erotic black and white photographs on the wall. A pretty girl, who was then about Larissa’s age now, was shown engaged in various sexual activities in most of them: masturbation (in six different positions using two different objects and her fingers), point-of-view penetration, from the rear, riding an unseen phallus, and a few head-and-chest views while in the throes of lusty orgasm. Larissa went over to the beside table and picked up the little pewter figurine, which if it was the same one could be seen in several of the pictures. The features on the face of the figurine were too small and rough in casting to make out but the hair and the breasts certainly resembled the young woman in the photo where she was orgasming. She was going to ask Turner about all this, too.

The next day she went to work and things were not very exciting. There were no new bond issues her firm was handling and just a few old loose ends to tie up at work. There was little to look forward too except to see her cat at the end of the day. The cat, usually so aloof and independent, seemed to crave attention now that it was back home. It spent the day trying to get into Larissa’s lap and rubbing against her legs. Larissa assumed that it was the tuna salad she was eating in front of the television.

Larissa did not feel particularly horny that night but she missed falling asleep to that throbbing feeling in her snatch, the one that stayed with her after coming several times.

The next day was much the same, except that when she came home, there was a lovely bouquet of flowers waiting for Larissa! She didn’t know the names of flowers very well but they looked like poppies, with broad light red petals, except that the centers of each flower were dark purple, almost black. They were arranged in a sort of oval and around them were pink roses, and on top a single white cala lily.

Poor Turner, thought Larissa. He just can’t stop thinking of my pussy. She put the flowers in three vases, her clitoris flower in one and the labia flowers and the vagina flowers each in their own. The looked at them for a long time before she went to bed that night, thinking of him thinking of her and what he saw in that flower selection that reminded him of her and how she saw herself reflected in how he saw her. It made her want to masturbate.

And sure enough, the following day a messenger brought a beautiful pink orchid, with delicate ruffled petals, to her office. It was very pretty and all day she looked at it and knew he was thinking of her labia. That night she seriously thought about using a dildo on herself but she held off. I’ve got to snap out of this oro-genital fetish I have with Turner, she thought. I’ve got to get control back and decide whether I want this or whether I’m being exploited! She went to sleep frustrated, slept fitfully, and dreamed of being boned.

The following day, she received a bouquet of anthurium, the Hawaiian flower, with pink bracts surrounding a bright gold-yellow upright pistil that looked exceedingly erect. Mixed in were bright pink eremophilas, complicated and deep and looking very ready to receive an ejaculate. There were bright white specks of baby’s breath all around. It was pretty clear what that flower arrangement meant. Larissa wet her panties looking at it and that night, another night of forced abstinence, she dreamed of it, strange dreams in which the bouquets came to life as all the parts of her pelvis, from the vulva through everything inside, her womb, the little knob of her cervix, her ovaries and tubes, and, of course, little eggs that began their journey every month, so far for naught, all made of flowers. It was now six days since she had had sex with Turner and it felt like six years. Before Turner, she could easily have gone six months between fucks, but for the last six months she had gotten used to regular, hot, almost daily sex.

She was crawling the walls, she was so horny.

On Friday, canlı bahis şirketleri a bouquet of pink roses arrived — the language of love in flowers! It was so sweet, Larissa thought, because the sequence of flowers told a story of the evolution of the bond between the two of them that only they could read and understand! Turner was due back that night but not until late –his team, on behalf of his client, and the plaintiff’s lawyer were still talking about a settlement while the jury was out deliberating. If they quit for the weekend without a decision, he would come home and go back on Sunday night, but he wouldn’t know this until Friday afternoon. So he and Larissa had decided that they would not see each other until the morning.

Larissa had another bad night and it took all her willpower not to masturbate. But she wanted to be strong and self-sufficient and not to give in to the whims of her sex drives until she had settled matters with Turner. If Kiki had been there, she might have told Larissa to do the exact opposite — masturbate until she couldn’t come any more, so she wouldn’t be hungry for relief when she talked to Turner — but she wasn’t. “Most people, especially those who are smart, who believe in strength of character, and have strong wills,” like Larissa, “overestimate their ability to suppress their most basic desires.” At least, that’s what the advice blog wrote a few years later when Larissa read it in on-line, but the insight came too late to help her that weekend.

Larissa came over to Turner’s house early Saturday morning and the first thing Turner noticed was that she had not brought her cat back with her. That was ok with him: the cat always made such a fuss whenever it was brought over. She was also dressed more than he expected her to be, in a blouse and long skirt, and after greeting him with a kiss and a hug she sat down across from him in the living room without even taking her clothes off. That concerned him.

“Turner, we have to talk,” she informed him.

His smile tightened. “Of course, Sweets. What is on your mind?”

She did not hold back. “Frank told me he showed you a picture of my vulva before you met me.” She didn’t let on that she had seen it in his home office. “Did you seduce me in order to get at my pussy or was your interest in me real?”

“Whoa!” he exclaimed, genuinely alarmed at the question. “What are you talking about? Of course my interest in you was — is! – real. I love you! And what’s this about a picture of your — vulva? Yours?” He wanted to go back to using more basic language but he sensed in her tone that this was not the time.

“Did you or did you not make a deal with Frank to deliver the bearer of the pussy in that picture to him for purposes of gaining your personal sexual satisfaction in exchange for promoting Frank to full partner in your law firm?” Larissa knew that she was talking to a lawyer and so her language got a little stilted.

Suddenly it dawned on Turner what she was talking about.

“Oh Larissa, I hope you don’t think I’d ever do something like that! Frank is a horndog — you know that. He and Judy fuck around more than we do! And you know how much I like pussy! Some guys are breast men, others leg men — I go for cunt. Last year, before I met you, I wasn’t in a relationship and I wasn’t getting any! I was feeling sorry for myself. We talked trash, typical guy talk. He showed me this picture around Christmas and it was the most beautiful pussy I’d ever seen until I saw yours! I told him I’d make him partner if he got her, or someone like her, for me! But it was just a joke! Then he gave me the picture. That’s all!”

“That’s all? What about introducing us? Wasn’t it more than a coincidence that you were set up with the woman with the pussy in the picture?”

“You can’t be serious. This was all before I met you…..” Turner’s face changed expression. “Wait a minute. You mean that picture really was of you?? Really?”

“Yes! Did you start dating me just to get at my vadge?” she repeated her question.

“No! I swear! But I did reward Frank, maybe more than I should have, for bringing us together. If it weren’t for him and Judy we never would have met! I was grateful to him and his work as a lawyer was good enough (not great but good enough), so I gave him a break out of gratitude. And why do you think the picture he gave me was you? Have you seen it?”

“I’m not going to tell you until I’m sure what happened. Do you still have the picture?” she demanded, knowing perfectly well it was in a manila folder on his desk in his home office.

“Yes, I think so. I’ll find it,” and Turner went into his home office and came out with the folder in his hand.

“OK, here it is. Let’s compare and see if they match.” Larissa knew they would but she had to show Turner that it was her in the picture without tipping him off that she had been snooping. Larissa pulled her skirt up into her lap and spread her legs. She was not wearing panties, of course. Since she started canlı kaçak iddaa going out with Turner and living a sexual lifestyle, she mostly only wore them at work.

Turner squatted on the floor in front of her and pulled out the photocopy. He rested it against her thigh. It was upside down so he turned it around. It was a perfect match, side by side, except that the photocopy showed everything flattened a little. Turner whistled.

“I never would have believed it!” he said. “The resemblance didn’t jump out at me because here” he waved the picture “you’re sitting on the glass. You’re butt cheeks are pushed together, your lips are flattened out and your clit looks smaller because you’re looking down on it from the angle of the glass. But side by side it’s obviously the same gorgeous twat!” He took a deep breath in through his nose, inhaling her essence from the source. “But it looks so much better in three dimensions and smells and tastes so much better than it even looks!” He kissed the inside of her thighs and threw the photocopy to one side. “Can we go upstairs now and play with the real thing?” Before she could object, he kissed her on the entrance to her vagina. He noticed she was moist but not wet.

“Not so fast. I have a couple more questions,” Larissa insisted. She wanted to get it all out before she got carried away by her mounting desire and gave in to him. “Who is that woman in the photos upstairs and the little pewter figurine?”

“Oh, Larissa,” Turner groaned. “You’re taking me back to my past! That woman is named Clarissa and she was the most sexual woman I’d ever met up to that point, when I was in my thirties. She’s an artist, mostly does silver jewelry and prints. She made that little statuette — figurine I guess you’d call it – by the side of the bed. Limited edition of ten and she gave me one. I met her almost ten years ago at an arts and crafts fair, while I was building up my art collection. I liked her work and we became lovers.” Turner sighed. “She taught me everything I know about how to pleasure a woman! Everything I was doing she took apart and then showed me how to do it better from the woman’s perspective. Then she started teaching me the little tricks and variations, like that butterfly thing I do with the tip of my tongue wedged against your clit. She told me exactly what she liked, how she liked to be licked and fondled and stroked and sucked and brought off. She broke all my bad habits and taught me how to really make love instead of just having sex. Taught me to be less selfish and more giving. I was deeply in love with her but she was a free spirit!”

Larissa was touched by his emotion. “What happened?” She felt just a little seep of fluid in her twat.

“Well, I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her and she didn’t want to be tied down, especially to a trial lawyer. She thought I should defend the downtrodden and do everything pro bono but you just can’t get rich that way and without being rich you can’t afford a wife who spends all her time casting silver trinkets (it’s much more expensive than pewter) and taking erotic pictures of herself. About this same time, we started to experience differences in what we wanted out of sex. I loved to pound her with rock-hard cock until she came over and over again, but in my thirties I started having trouble getting it up more than five or six times a night. She taught me to bring her off orally first and then make penetration really count when her cunt was super-sensitive. But after a year she wanted an open relationship. I didn’t like coming home to dirty bedsheets and naked strangers in my kitchen. Also, we kept running out of towels in the bathroom. Then she left.”

“Where did she go?” asked Larissa. She felt warm between her legs and her cunny felt wet. This was a romantic story.

“Funny thing is, she joined the Navy.” Turner answered. “Last I heard she was on an aircraft carrier just off Guam.”

Larissa decided not to think about that. “So what you have given me you learned from Clarissa? It all sounds like a great cycle of sexual learning and healing,” she rhapsodized. Larissa felt a drop ooze out of her hole and slowly run down the back of her pussy onto her taint. This story was definitely getting her back in the mood.

“Yes,” Turner responded. “And she told me that the gifts that she gave to me were those she had learned from other wise men in her life who had taken her under their wing and taught her the beauty of sex on a spiritual plane before she met me: her high school boyfriend, who was very gentle and showed her that losing her virginity was a sacrament, her best friend in art school, a sensitive guy named Horst, the artist who she modeled for to make money before she went out on her own, her agent, the business manager of the craft fair, the manager of a vegetarian restaurant next to her studio, her city councilman, the mayor, the city hockey team, and her Uncle Harry.”

“That is so beautiful” exclaimed Larissa, her nude pussy still exposed and now starting canlı kaçak bahis to drip.

“So now you know,” said Turner. “That is how I came to love the yoni, as Clarissa would say. The female center of life and healing. And that’s why your consecrated cunt is at the very core of our couple-ness.”

Larissa felt terrible for doubting him now. But there was one last question. “Turner, I’m sorry I doubted you. But a few weeks ago I saw your medical report by the phone. Don’t be mad at me — it was there in plain sight! I couldn’t help but notice that you had a sperm test done. Why? That’s not part of an annual physical!”

“Don’t you think I knew we were getting serious? I thought — I knew! – that you were going to be the one for me. If we took the next step, I knew you wanted to marry and to bear children. It wasn’t anything you said, exactly. More in the way that you cuddled your cat and read to it and put it to bed every night in a blankie. I realized you were meant to have children. I didn’t want to deceive you or disappoint you if I couldn’t. So I got myself tested so that if I had any problem giving you the healthy children you deserve, we could just break it off and I would just fade away.”

Larissa was starting to drip. “Turner! Take me upstairs!” she pleaded suddenly.”Ravish me!” Her twat twinkled with wetness and when her thighs came together there was a squishing sound.

Turner swept her in his arms out of the chair and lifted her up to his manly chest and carried her up the stairs to the bedroom, angling sideways at one point to avoid hitting her head against a large wooden giraffe which stood in the corridor, a souvenir he had bought in Kenya.

“My sweet Larissa!” he cried, “I don’t ever want you to have doubts about our relationship! We are eternal” and he stripped off her clothes and then his. While he was hopping around with his pants around his knees trying to take them off, she reached over and picked up the pewter figurine, kissed it, and put it back on the bedside table. “Thank you, Clarissa!” she whispered in gratitude.

When Turner jumped into bed, Larissa already had her eyes closed and did not see him reach into the drawer of the bedside table, bring out a small object, and put it next to the little pewter figurine.

He ravished her.

He dived immediately for her pussy, without stopping at her face or her breasts. He licked her entire slit, back to front, while holding her open with his fingers and his broad tongue swept over her clit so hard that she almost felt it double over until he reached her pubes and started over again. He did it again and again while his fingers probed her, even tapping on her little brown rose, as his mouth sucked up her juices like sweet ambrosia. Finally, when she felt a cat’s whisker away from a mighty orgasm, he reared up and inserted his finger into her primed and swollen channel, curled it, and stroked the familiar little rough area behind her bone while taking his other hand and placing it palm down on her belly, both to increase the pressure and because a hand on a woman’s belly is a man’s way of saying “I will couple with you on my terms!” And this final stimulation and acceptance of his total control of her pleasure zone pushed her over the edge and with a strangled, throaty moan she came, and with it came a stream of clear, sweet-smelling fluid that gushed out of her hole and over his hand and onto the bed, while she rode it out, perspiring, and heaving until clean sweat rolled down her armpits and her back arched and her pushed-out breasts shook with their little stiff nipples pointing one way and then the other.

It was all so good to watch! Turner’s cock was as stiff as it had ever been in his life watching her lose control.

She came, overwhelmed, a second time and then again because Turner did not stop! He plunged first one finger, then two and three, and finally four into her post-orgasmic vadge and stroked her G-spot roughly, harder than he would with his usual gentle caress and harder than she normally would have wanted but just then they were both beyond subtlety and single-minded in their quest to make Larissa come until she was senseless.

And when Larissa dropped back flat on the bed, limp, Turner turned her over on the now-wet sheets, lifted her hips so that her ass was in the air, stuffed the pillows under her hips, and drove his rampant cock deeper into her pussy than he had ever gone, pounding her with the pent-up desire of too much time away (a whole week!) but also to show her that this was the bond between them, the life energy that she could only find with him because they were made for each other and his penis must find its home in her body for as long as they lived! He angled a bit differently this time and her clit brushed against the top of his cock as he thrust.

And again Larissa came, deep from within and with a bit more clit in the orgasm this time. Even the muscles of her abdomen became hard as a board as she braced against the fierce and rolling thunderous contractions of her powerful vagina, each of which pushed out more of the succulent nectar from glands deep within her channel to show that it was welcoming his manhood! It all felt so good around Turner’s cock, deep inside her, warm, and throbbing.

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