I have been relating my adventures with Jola and Zbyszka, the transwomanly poles (pun: they are Poles) of a trio I have called the Narcissae, thanks to their resembling each other to the point of being almost mirror-images, the third P(p)ole being Kasza, the cis-woman. Of course, the likeness does not apply at the genital level. Well, you may not be surprised to learn that there is a further chapter in the sequence.
You will certainly not be surprised to learn that, following the fervent fuck-fest of 'Narcissae Amor,' Zbyszka and I were soon together the following night, after an intense twelve-hour day of linguistic pyrotechnics. During which I had to make an effort not to divert attention to recalling our close encounters of the amorous kind, prompted partly be my bottom being a trifle sore from her buggering it, and my nipples a little tender from her buccal ministrations.
So, we began by gazing lengthily, languishingly into each other's eyes. I marvelled that this tight little fairy, all fresh from the dairy, would, indeed, give me a kiss, as many kisses as I wanted, if I asked it. After all, I am nearly twice her age, barnet salted with grey, bosom and bottom softened by anno domini (since I'm using some Latin -- Title: 'All the Narcissae').
Next, we gave ourselves into prolonged osculation, which underwent a sweet crescendo of intensity of oesophageal delving. This eventually launched an accompanying manual exploration of each other's clothed contours, as if we were shy, hesitating to seek the flesh beneath. Though what we were really doing was what often characterises the start of the second love-making session, reassuring ourselves that the romance and desire of the first occasion were still, again, present, pressing, pending.
'Normaczka, you have terrifical tits,' she said. 'That is good word?'
'Good in private between consenting adults,' I said, 'Bit rude otherwise. And you have terrific tits, too, lovely Zbyszeczka.'
'Shall we look each other tits?'
'Let's,' I said, and we solemnly removed each other's shirts and bras, and held each other's breasts, and tenderly pressed and rubbed them together, like two girls fascinated by the first sight of another's mammaries and wondering whether they might be lesbians. We gazed spellbound as our nipples nudged each other erect, unable to distinguish whose arousal was whose, as we entered a phase of shared sensation in which the four breasts created a chorus of total tittage. We dropped our hands and swayed from side to side in opposite directions, sliding the breasts across each other, to the point that the stimulus became almost painful.
'Is word for this?' she asked after a while.
'I shall call it bloosoming,' I said. 'It is a mixture of blossoming, blooming and bosom.'
'Oh, yes,' she said, 'Our tits are like flowers, with nipplings like bees going in.'
Only then did we take turns to bend and lavishly lick the bloosoms all over, till she said, 'Shall we look our pusses now? My fujarka is hurting in my majtki.'
'Yes, my darling,' I said, 'Let me play music on your fujarka. And my lechtaczka is ready for your lips, too.'
Accordingly, we took off each other's skirts, and contemplated panties. She said, 'I see your hairs, Normaczka. They are so many.'
'Not as many as onetime,' I said, 'They decrease with age, you know. But there's still a little pelt for you to scratch and stroke.'
'My pelt is not so much, but you find me hiding in there.'
'Yes, my darling, I'm going to find your little ram in your thicket.'
'Time for panties taking off.'
She knelt, .drew my knickers slowly down my legs and buried her face in my pussy-grove. Her tongue felt for my clitoris, which, already erect, sent a buzz through my whole gynaecology. She said, 'It taste good, smell good, of you.'
She held the knickers while I stepped out of them. She wrapped them round her face and inhaled deeply. 'It your smell, Normaczka. It make me want to ficken you soon.'