xxx-Good Vibrations…Very Good Vibrations

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By Lauren McAllister

Karen and I had been best buds since Jr. High. We watched each other’s pubic hair grow in (with great fascination, might I add) and then helped each other shave it off for the first time. Bra sizes came and bra sizes went but Karen and I remained as thick as really hot thieves. We were always naked around each other. I mean, girls are, aren’t they? We’d try on clothes together and shower together…pee in front of one another. Pretty standard best-girlie-bud stuff.

Of course, we used to masturbate together. I can’t remember which one of us first discovered the unimaginable yummy-nums that lay right there at our fingertips but hands down (pun intended) it became our favorite, number one pastime. We used to talk about boys and what a cock would feel like and being done “doggie style” as we whapped ourselves half-blind, repeatedly. Those sleepovers were “da bomb!”

Karen and I went to an all-girls school, so we didn’t really get to socialize with many penis-owning members of society. Not that there wasn’t rampant sex on our campus, anyway. Girls without boys “make do,” if you know what I mean. We had this math major named Carissa, who was in our grade and she did a lot more with her head than figure out large numbers in it.

There was a bathroom on the second floor where she’d set up shop, every lunch hour. It was typical to see seven or eight girls in short pleated skirts lined up outside the door, talking about shoes and boy bands, while waiting for their turn in the “lick chair.” You’d go in, pull down the cottons and make yourself comfortable. Carissa knew exactly how to beguile and bedazzle your fuck pond. I swear, her tongue was made of whirling, swirling, magic sauce. She’d slide it around in there with masterful precision, pleasing and teasing, building up the twat tension until the top of your head blew off. Alas, Carissa would only let you have one gut-buster per bathroom break. As soon as you’d finished twitching like there was a cattle prod stuck up your ass, she’d pull your skirt back down, wipe her mouth and ask you to send in the next patient.

That was about as close to lesbian sex as I had ever gotten. Karen and I never ever went down on each other. Sure, we’d spend entire Saturday nights in bed together naked, wanking like they were giving out prizes for it, but it never even occurred to me to drop down and help myself to her sandwich. It was all about copious amounts of self pleasuring with a pal. A lot of people are all ashamed about touching themselves and stuff and hide away in dark lonely rooms before they start pummeling their pink parts. Me? Fuck that. I like to have some company while I’m bringin’ the hammer down on the mound.

One sunny afternoon I decided to up the masturbatory ante and shoplifted a sex toy from the neighborhood Rite Aid. I was super curious about them but I was far too embarrassed to buy something so personal from a local store clerk. Plus, we live in pretty small town. Believe me, I can name every girl in school who has a cervical cap and exactly how much KY Becky Sue mysteriously goes through every weekend. Jail-time was a much smaller risk.

We rushed right over to my place, after its procurement, and excitedly tore off our attire. Karen watched, almost hypnotized, as I stuffed the batteries from my father’s emergency flashlight into it. Then, there was a momentary pause to consider what lay before me. Sure, I’d seen a million videos on the internet of women practically spontaneously combusting from vibrator-induced orgasms but jamming something that sounds like a chainsaw between your legs for the first time can sure test a girl’s self-pleasuring resolve.

“Why don’t you just put it against your inner thigh and then slowly work your way up to those cute little girlie lips of yours,” suggested my bestie.

It was worth a try, right? Baby steps. Vasco de Gama didn’t just jump into the first boat he saw and start sailing around the world. Then, I went from thinking about Vasco to an entire shipload of masturbating men. That moistened me up considerably. I mean, they’d have to right? Six months at sea at a time with nothing but their own hands for company. Yeah, I know they were probably corn-holing the prettier sailors something horrid, but the image of all those brawny gents righteously pounding their poles had a little more romance to it.

With brawny pole-pounders in mind, I flipped the switch. I probably should have purloined a pricier “device”, because this one was super noisy. It felt kind of cool in my hand, though. I put it against my inner leg. Hmmm. That was not objectionable at all. Karen was practically staring holes in me as I got used to the sensation. I could already feel the vibrations travelling along my upper leg muscles to the epicenter of my custard pot. I could get to like this!

I let it haphazardly meander around for a minute or so, just insouciantly circling certain strategic areas before I swooped in and got down to the serious business at hand. The more I insouciantly circled, the more custard my pot seemed to be producing. This was going to be the beginning of a very special freindship.

Karen licked her lips in voyeuristic anticipation as I gradually slid my pulsating little pal closer to my luscious labia. With each inch traveled, its oscillating awesomeness became all the richer. By the time I arrived at the Holy Land, my outer lips were puffed up like mountain bike tires. I gently dragged the buzzy tip around the outskirts of my sopping penis pit. My vaginal aperture was winking like a pervert in a schoolyard. Christ, this machine was a revelation! Dozens of tiny mini-cums were already shooting up my abdomen and you could have cracked open coconuts with my nipples.

By the time I ventured into my honey makers inner sanctum, it was already sopping wet. Yikes! I hardly had time to blink. All the magical wonderfulness of the universe set light to my engorged vulva and a fucking Saturn V Rocket went off between my legs. My cunt exploded in a climax so powerful, my nose began to throb. I screamed like Yaseil Puig had just taken a baseball bat to my munch-mound. Before I knew it, I was doubled over, face down on the bed, riding the longest cum session I’d ever had. Vast orgasmic waves rose up from my quim and pounded the inside walls of my uterus. Long, breathtaking contractions shook my body, as I made noises like a sea lion chocking on haddock into my mattress. The climatic spasms were so intense; you could have used my sphincter to slice carrots. That marvelous, mystical, phenomenal device had transformed my entire vagina into an undulating pond of concupiscent bliss.

When the cum bombs finally stopped going off in my lap larder, I heroically managed to pull Mr. Hummer out of my dew pot. I lay there, absorbing the post-orgasmic stillness and drooling onto my bed sheets for a few seconds until I heard the sound of someone clearing their throat.

Oh my gosh! I’d forgotten Karen was even in the room with me. I wanly raised my head from the top sheet and gazed into my best friend’s bewildered eyes.

“So, how was it?” she smiled knowingly.

“Meh. I’m thinking of taking it back,” I replied and then we both burst into fits of laughter. I chortled for about a minute and a half and then jammed Mr. Robo-Penis back between my legs and uncorked another cunt-astic knee-knocker. Yowsa!

After a third eye-popping ride on the Eveready Rodeo, I finally found enough self-restraint to offer Karen a turn. She did not wait to be asked twice. My bestie flopped down onto the bed, parted her creamy thighs, and bade me wet her whistle.

Although, I’d seen her naked a million times, I hadn’t actually gone “down there” before. She had a really sweet looking hoo-haw. I like to gaze (more like gawk) at cock a lot, but I have to admit, rubbing my “wham wand” against her puffy outer lips was a real turn on. When the tips of my fingers became coated in her dewy love juice, I began to question my sexual orientation. The wank-erciser was on its lowest setting, so I was able to draw out the proceedings. Excite and retreat. I would dive into her tender interior, till her hips started to involuntarily ride up on the jelly-covered shaft and then I would drop it down onto her butthole or slide it across her pubic bone.

I was experiencing some major jollies, rummaging through her pink parts. By now, Karen was practically begging me for some clit-clobbering relief. I coated my finger in her quim cream and stuffed it up her ass as I initiated a full frontal assault on her love nub. Holy mother of God. She came like a coffin full of dynamite. Her pucker-hole clenched so hard, it practically cut my ring finger off at the knuckle. I thought her teeth we going to fall out. Karen bucked like a stallion with itchy balls on shrooms.

She convulsed and gurgled for almost a minute before rolling over on her side with her hand between her legs. I stroked her back gently, as she lay there and moaned like she’d just eaten a Walmart corndog.

That night, she cuddled up to me naked, while we slept. Feeling her skin against mine and her leg across my thighs as I drifted off to sleep was pretty damn scrumptious. Occasionally, I’d grab me a handful of her wonderfully perky tits and kiss her on that perfect mouth. It was very strange that it took a machine to bring us this close together. We’d wasted some much time not ripping into one another!

From that festive evening on, I was literally addicted to my little plastic buddy. We became inseparable. I began to take it to school with me and I’d grab a quick one in the cubicles between almost every class. After school, I would get on top of Karen with the wonder machine wedged inside our slits. We’d play with each other’s tits and soul kiss and slide around on one another until the wham-jam built up between our legs we came in bucket-loads. It was absolutely fucking amazing.

One evening, I stuffed it up her poop hole and ate her out. Me, going down on a girl! It was a little weird at first, especially with all that buzzing going on just below her pudding cup. But soon, I was really beginning to see what Carissa found so appealing about that “taste below the waist”. Girlie parts are so soft and tender and delicate. Licking Karen’s labia and tickling her clit with the tip of my tongue was better than candy. Soon her hips would start to smoosh her vag into my face and she’d grab a couple of fistfuls of my hair. This was a sure fire sign that her pelvic present was just about to be delivered. Two seconds later, her eyes would roll back in her head, her cunt would clench and she’d proceed to squirt like The Fountains at Versailles. At times, I was tempted to wear a shower cap and possibly a scuba mask. And ear plugs. Man, she would squeal like Axl Rose during an encore.

Pretty soon, Karen was practically living at my place because, by the end of the evening, her legs were too weak to carry her home. Let’s just say that, until I go away to college and start taking some major dick, Karen and I are an item.

I’m not exactly monogamous, but close enough to please the both of us. Now at lunchtime, I set up a chair next to Carissa. There’s always a long line of gossiping girls for both of us. With my trusty vibrator in hand, I know exactly how to beguile and bedazzle a young lady’s fuck pond. I slide it in and out of that succulent dew cave, teasing and pleasing, building up the twat tension until the top of her head blows off. Of course, I only let each girl have one gut-buster per bathroom break. As soon as she’s finished twitching like she’s just had a cattle prod stuck up her ass, I pull that skirt back down, wipe off my delight-saber and ask her to send in the next patient.

Copyright 2016 by Lauren McAllister

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