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.