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.'
'I think first we need to free that ramping ram from that thickish thicket,' and she stood for me to kneel and peel down the panties. As I suspected, her cock was tucked away as before, hidden behind the dark blonde curtain. She stepped out of the panties. Carefully, I eased her legs apart and reached under her to pull out the bum-plug. Her semi-stiff penis swung loose, its mooring post dangling till I freed it from the painter and grasped it gently.
She said, 'Hold me, Normaczka, make me hard.'
I squeezed that neat, adorable cock, sliding its loose skin through my fingers, and it lengthened and swelled, standing rigid. I leaned forward and took it in my mouth, holding it on my tongue and pressing it against my soft palate. She uttered a little sigh but remained still. I reached round and folded my right hand round her left cheek, and brought my left hand up between her thighs and took her balls in my fingers. As I slipped a finger-tip into her bottom, with another little sigh, she came, not in spurts but pouring herself into me in a steady stream, all of which I swallowed while kneading her cheek.
'Oh, Normaczka,' she said, 'You have drink me all.'
I let her shrinking tool fall from my mouth, and she drew me to my feet. She said, 'I am drinking you now,' manoeuvring me onto my back, knees spread, on the bed and positioning herself between my thighs. She pushed her tongue-tip into my vulva, just in front of my vestibule, and slid it upwards to find my clit. Which received its attention with relief and mounting excitation. Cleverly, then, she brought a hand up under my bottom and slid her thumb into my vagina and her forefinger into my bottom, and as she lapped at my lechtaczka she squeezed the two digits, compressing the membranes between them, so that both passages responded in concert. A concerto, in fact, with a three-part cadenza,, for clit, cunt and bum and set up a heavenly harmony and choired me to the choral, chordal, climax.
Just as I came, she fastened her lips over my tender, swollen labia and applied a French kiss, darting her tongue into me and sucking hard to draw my lubricant into her mouth. My whole body sang and, glowed, and I crowed in exaltation, in exultation.
She crawled up my body and laid her head on my swollen bosom. We fell asleep, fulfilled from completed coition.
I awoke to find myself lying face down with a pillow under my stomach. My legs were far enough apart that a tongue was gliding up and down my crevice, lapping across my anus and vestibule. My lover had skilfully moved me into this bottom-up position while I slept, and was now preparing me for the entry of her morning hard.
Neither of us felt a need to speak. We were happy that she proceed as she chose, both confident that our shared desire would seek and find satisfaction. So that when she moved up the bed, settled my cheeks into her belly and began to poke into my crack with her penis, the anticipation augmented our arousal. There was one of those delicious times when it is more interesting, more exciting, that the penis is not guided but finds its way into one or other of the apertures. My preference was actually that it lodge in my vagina, and she knew that and adjusted her pelvis to orientate her probe appropriately.
And when the cunt-seeking torpedo homed in and lodged its glans, we both let out a gasp at the shock of it, the greater in that I was not, yet, fully lubricated. The slight pain of the friction as she thrust in further increased the intimacy and excitation. She pushed in slowly till I felt her fernery against my buttocks, which made me shiver with pleasure. She forced herself all the way into me, compressing my cheeks, and rested for a few moments, while we relished her containment. I even reflected, as we lay locked together, that I really must be mult-sexual, since I do love sometimes to be filled with cock like this, especially, naturally, when I possess some deep emotional attachment to whomever is fucking me.