Impact 18: of The Bull

I am flush now, but not blushing. Claire and I are stretching her little deer, making it ready for her.

I think of how tight her two fingers felt pushing into me at first, but now four fingers don't feel enough. I want more, and she knows it. She keeps teasing me with the tip of a third.

Claire looks so pleased with me, so excited about her little deer. I suck my lips between my teeth, bite down on them, preparing to give myself to her, to let her push her hand into me, her fist. My heart is starting to beat fast, to hammer.

"Which of the three do you think Danny was?"

I'm thrown off by her question, surprised by her turn of thought and ashamed to find myself thinking of William, how tiny his erection was. But then I picture Kwasi's long thick erection, how big it felt in my hand, the way his skin moved over the rigid blood filled chambers beneath. But not even Kwasi can match Claire's description of the Algerian's great scimitar-like cock. I see again, Roberts long thin cock spraying cum all over Kip's thicker and longer erection. I try to imagine where Danny might fit in the spectrum of all those cocks.

"Robert and Kip..." I start; hating myself for stammering.

'How was I ever going to face Kip again?' I wonder. "Although he's right, I let him see my breasts first..."

"I think they were both bulls?" I ask Claire, who seems to agree, her fingers guiding mine, moving slow, not pushing deeper. She slides her thumb under my palm, rolling my clit just as slow. She's not trying to bring the pot to a boil, just keep it simmering.

"I mean Robert was smaller than Kip," I mumble, wanting to be talking about anything else, but seeing how much fun she's having, how much she likes grilling me about this. "But Kip wasn't... huge, I guess?"

"Kwasi was very big," Claire says, knowing what I am picturing.

"Yeah..." I groan, making her cackle with delight and her fingers dance and play.

"So Kwasi is a horse," Claire agrees, smiling at my discomfort. "Kip and Robert are bulls... So what does this make Danny?"

Again I picture William's baby erection, peeking out of his pubic hair like the petit lapin's tiny pink nose hidden in the cabbage.

"Nowhere near as long as Robert..." I tell Claire. "So, like, maybe a big hare?"

"The Big Bunny!" she laughs, trying to stifle herself. "Ah, la la! That's terrible, I'm sorry!"

"Gros lapin?" I joke, egging her on, giving her permission to laugh.

We are both on our sides, facing each other, the two of us in the center of her big bed. Our faces are very close, her bent knees are touching my knee on the bed, my other knee is in the air, spreading my thighs wide. She is cradling my face in her left hand, while her right hand is beneath mine. Three of her fingers pushing smoothly in and curling out in slow easy coordination with three of mine. Her thumb softly grinding my clit.

'I can do this.'

She bites her lip and seems almost shy.

"I got my little deer a very pretty Linga," she tells me.

I blink, not understanding, but she squeezes my cheek in hand while the fingers of her other hand curl and flex.

"...the final gift from Paris," she explains, sliding out of me, smoothing her wet fingertips over my clit; a farewell stroke.

"A bull for my baby girl," she whispers, touching my cheek with wet fingers, painting my lips with my cum.

I'm disappointed and a little confused as she twists away from me on the mattress. But my heart leaps as she stretches to reach something on the floor under her side of the bed. I think I know, but the known-unknowns make my head spin.

"Because my baby girl has a thing for big effeminate cocks!" she says as she turns back around with a simple brown paper gift bag, tall and narrow - like for a bottle of wine.

"They came in three sizes," she announces, offering me the bag. "The Hare was too small for my deer, and The Horse was too big. I got us The Bull."

Claire has been dropping hints about the final gift from her trip, and from what she's said, and how she's said it, I've assumed it must be a sex toy. I sit up to take the bag, which is held closed with a ribbon.

I've been expecting the final gift might be a vibrator or a dildo... or, because of Claire's interest in my asshole, maybe a butt plug. All things I've never had the courage to buy for myself, and am a little afraid to imagine her using on me. I've been dreading the idea of shiny black latex projectiles, or worse, beige and veiny.

We are sitting cross legged on her big bed, like girls at a sleepover, but we are naked, and my hands are shaking.

The bag is heavier than I expected, which gives me pause, feeds my dread. After all the talk of linga sizes, the weight has me imagining something WAY too big.

Which it is...

Except what's inside the bag is so different from anything I might have ever imagined I'm not sure how to judge what I'm looking at... I'm flummoxed.

"She's a little strange, no?" Claire laughs softly. She sounds a little unsure, maybe embarrassed. I must look as perplexed as I feel. "But pretty too I think," she whispers hopefully.

It's too bizarre to call pretty. What it's not, I'm very relieved to see, is BDSM black, or glossy, or veiny...

What the toy is, is, is very BIG.

But it's also a lovely indigo blue. And rather than shiny and rubbery, the surface is matte and slightly translucent. And while it's clearly a sex toy - all smooth curves - it isn't any of the things I thought it might be, or any of the things I feared it might be. But I'm not at all sure what it is.

I can tell she's getting anxious, that I should say something to put her at ease.

"Ummm..." is all I can muster.

Honestly, it looks like a prop from a science fiction movie.

Firstly, it's got two distinct and very different phalluses. Neither is grotesquely large, but they're both big and together they are scary huge.

'If this is a bull,' I think, 'it's a very big bull...'

The larger of the two phalluses, is easily recognizable as an erection, but one reimagined by an industrial designer. It has a distinct, if abstracted, helmet-like "head." And its shaft, while also streamlined and simplified, is tapered with a muscular cock-like curve to it. It is very long and thick, much bigger than Danny's. Bigger than Kip's ... almost as big as Kwasi's. If the Linga is a bull, it is a very big bull.

What confuses me is the second part of the... linga, its other phallus.

'Is that supposed to go in my asshole?' I wonder, not able to picture how that might even be physically possible.

The base of the first, more cock-like phallus is blunt and hoof like. But just about where the scrotum would hang from a real erection, a second phallus "sprouts" from the first. This second implement looks almost exactly like the male part of a flower, or maybe an enormously engorged fallopian tube.

So rather than stylized testicles hanging down, an elegant swan-necked fallopian vine, only a little bigger around than a finger and just about as long, droops down and then loops back up behind the stylized "hoof" of the big aerodynamic erection. And rather than a thick tapered cock-shaft, the end of the stamen swells into a thick elongated egg shape.

In comparison to the larger, more literal phallus, the fallopian vine is effeminate and plant-like. Almost exactly like an obscenely large stamen, laden with pollen. In fact, the oval swelling reminds me most of the closed petals of budding tulip. It is strangely beautiful and surprisingly effeminate, but the bud alone is as big around and as long as Danny's erection.

"...cleistogamy," I whisper.

"What's this mean?" Claire asks.

"Hermaphrodite flowers?"

"Something from biology 101?"

"No," I scoff, remembering the discussion of Middlesex. "Gender and Sexuality as well. Professor Kim was a hard ass and put cleistogamy on the final - I was the only one who remembered what it meant."

Claire smiles approvingly and I blush, ashamed that I'm bragging, but also because I'm picturing what the bulging fallopian tulip will feel like in my ass.

"Touch it," Claire urges, I am still just staring at it in the open bag. "Take it out... It's nice."

And she's right. I'd expected something rigid, but the linga is made of a fleshy silicon with a surface that reminds me of my favorite spatula. Still my hands are visibly shaking as I take it out of the bag. This thing is really heavy and really big.

"You want to hear something funny?" Claire asks, her voice soft and gentle. "I was going to get you a Rabbit - like the actual Rabbit vibrator, do you know it?"

I tell her that I do, remembering how Ali had left hers out on her bedside table once, how mortified I'd been when she noticed me staring at it and reached for it, started telling me how much she loved it; had wanted to explain how great it was and how it worked. I'd practically run from her room.

"...but the girl at the shop showed me this," Claire continues.

Something about the way Claire says it, grabs my attention.

"What was her name?" I blurt.

"Who?" She asks, embarrassed. She's playing innocent. Have I seen her do that before?

"The girl," I ask. "At the shop."

"Ah. Her name was Blanche."

"Was she pretty?"

"Mmm... yes. Is that ok?"

Again she's embarrassed. It's exciting to see her on her back foot.

"Yes," I admit. "Did you tell her about me?"

"That you were American," she explains, more confident, no longer squirming. "That I thought a strap on might put you off," she continues.

"You wanted a strap on?" I ask, a little shocked by the image.

"No, but I told her I wanted to fuck you but didn't think you had ever used toys before," she says, watching my face for a reaction. Whatever my expression, it seems to confirm her suspicion. "...So she showed me this. She described for me how this one works, how it feels... for us... both of us. "

I look again at the toy, trying to understand it. I again try to picture how Claire could make the two parts fit inside me at the same time and my imagination flashes gruesome images of my perineum stretching and tearing.

"Both?" I ask.

"Yes, both... It's pretty, isn't it?"

Her voice rises with the question, like she's encouraging a reluctant child. I don't know what to say, still trying to shake that awful image.

"She told me... Blanche told me, that she uses it..." she hurries on, then falters. "...for - do you know what chevillage means?"

I don't, and tell her so.

"It means plug, but in English you say peg..."

I still don't understand.

"Pegging is when a woman fucks a man in the ass," she says, watching me as I finally get what she's talking about, a saucy grin on her face. I look at the toy in my hand, my worst fears being realized, but I am still confounded.

'A man?' I wonder, trying to imagine. I picture holding the toy like an iron, with the tulip phallus in my fist, forcing the cock-like one into William's hairy asshole...

Thankfully, Claire interrupts this thought, reaches out to pinch the tip of the long tulip-like bulge of the fallopian part.

"She..." she says, pausing for effect, her thumb making small circles, rubbing the tip of the tulip bulb like a clit. "...goes in the éléphante..." she says with a warm smile. "And he... The Bull," she says, wrapping her hand around the helmet-like head of the larger phallus, "is for my little deer."

We are holding the toy like a wishbone now. I study the point where the two parts meet, imaging the floral part inside of Claire, how the hoof-like base of the large phallus - The Bull - will bear down on her clitoris. The Bull looks so big in her hand.

"How big was The Horse?"

"No longer," she says with a little shrug of her lower lip. "But too thick."

I feel like Goldilocks holding Momma Bear's dildo, which is too thick for my fingers to touch my thumb.

'This one was just right...'

She is looking into the bag and reaches in to retrieve a pretty pink tube of lotion and a thin white plastic wafer a little longer than a matchbox. She looks up and sees something in my eyes, and refocuses on me.

"The Horse was much thicker," she says softly, touching my cheek. She's reassuring me.

'Do I look scared?'

"I told Blanche I didn't think we were ready for such a big one," she says more playfully. "But that I'd come back if we ever are."

"Oh," I say, not knowing what to say. She brings her face close to mine, so our lips are almost touching.

"I want to fuck you like a girl, Sarah," she breaths into me. "May I do that?"

She is gripping The Bull by its thick base. Like a man might hold his erection. Her thumb doesn't reach her fingers, and her fist barely covers half the length of the shaft.

"Yes?" I tell her doubtfully.

"I won't hurt you, baby," she promises, and I feel my whole body growing warm with longing. "I want to make love to my Young Sarah."

"I want that," I tell her.

"Lube her for me," she says, touching the tip of floral part again

It takes me a moment to understand, but then, I reach for the pink tube. She holds the toy by The Bull for me while I squeeze a generous blob on the tip of the "bulb

"She..." I start, hesitating as I use my hand to cover the elongated oval with lube. "She... reminds me of a tulip, before... she blooms?"

"Mmm, you're right. I like that," Claire coos. She is watching my hand lube the vine-like stem, working the surface with the slick gel. I slide my hand back up its full length and, squirting more lube onto the tip, I begin to pump my fist over the long tubular body of The Tulip, giving it a handjob and making slurpy wet noises.

Claire watches this with obvious pleasure, telling me, "you like my Tulip."

Do I? I like the way Claire is looking at me, how she is watching me pump.

"I want it warm for you," I tell her.

"You are a very good girl, Sarah..." Claire tells me, smiling, but then gestures for me to take the toy from her. "Go on now, take it."

Her voice is soft, and her eyes kind, but it's an order and I obey, gripping The Bull around its shaft - it's thick and fleshy. Taking it from her I am again struck by its weight and its size.

Claire leans her elbows back on the pillows and spreads her legs.

"Now put The Tulip in me, Sarah."

Gripping The Bull and releasing The Tulip. Ssilvery strands of lube trail my fingers, with my other hand I am holding it like a meat hook, preparing to impale Claire with The Tulip. She is smiling at me, waiting to see what I'll do.

I shift up onto my knees, straddling her thigh, and lean over her. My hair drapes down around my face, hiding me from her.

Claire's skin looks moist. My own is prickling with a perspiration as I bring the toy to her entrance. I feel her eyes on me as I rub her lips with the tip of the floral part and the lubed up fingers of my free hand, smearing her pussy with the clear, clean smelling gel. The Bull is shaking in my hand as I begin to push it in

"I don't want to hurt you," I whisper. My face is hot. Sweat is beading on my lip.

Claire shifts and reaches for my hand holding the toy, touching my fingers and guiding me in with more force.

"Don't worry," she promises, her voice straining with the effort. "I am very ready."

And she's right. I can feel the resistance of her gripping the toy, hear her breath change then stop as it slides smoothly in with a slow pneumatic pressure. We watch it disappear into her, and she lets out a long sigh as the hoof of the large phallus seats itself against her pubis.

"Does my Young Sarah like her Bull?" She asks after a short loaded pause.

'The deep breath before the plunge...'

I've moved back onto my haunches. I'm sitting up, straddling her calf, still gripping The Bull in my hand. She is smiling at me, her fingers still resting on the back of my hand, waiting for me to respond, to approve. She looks strange and beautiful, her naked body stretched out for me like the Odalisque, but sporting this giant indigo Bull. Her expression is vulnerable. It's her fingers that are shaking now.

I fold myself forward, bowing to kiss The Bull's pointed head,. Hearing the way Claire's breath catches, feeling The Bull jump with her excitement, I go further, licking, and taking it into my mouth.

I am pleasantly surprised. I had expected an unpleasant rubbery taste, but The Bull tastes and smells of exactly nothing. And while the shaft is stiff, the surface is fleshy and giving. Randomly, what it reminds me of most are my kitchen utensils, which I got at the Sur La Table, on Columbus Circle, and I love. They are a deep red instead of blue, but are made of a "food grade" silicone rubber that I've always enjoyed putting in my mouth - the subtle erotica of cooking...

The mouthfeel of The Bull is comforting. Even though it's so big, it feels good against my tongue.

Thinking of my favorite spatula, I test The Bull with my teeth, pulling my lips back into a big smile to show Claire, as I grip it's head in my teeth, which makes her huff a laugh.

"La bite!" she swears.

Still gripping the base, I close my lips and soften my jaw, letting Claire watch me suck her off. The head fills my mouth. I have to hinge my jaw wide as it pushes into my throat and the girth of the shaft flattens my tongue.

Danny liked to watch me sucking his dick. I was able to "deep throat" him, but I gag on The Bull before my lips get anywhere near my fist. Still, I back off and try again and again, and each time I do I force my head a little further, taking more and more into my throat until The Bull is coated with thick mucus and dripping with saliva. Claire is making small sounds of approval, her fingers petting my hand and wrist as I force more and more of The Bull into my throat.

"I've never watched another girl suck a cock before," she tells me, before correcting herself after a brief hesitation. "... in real life. You are so sexy Sarah, and very much better at this than I ever was."

Her voice is so full of genuine admiration, but also has the shallow hollow sound of building pleasure.

Until now my eyes have been closed. I'm showing off for her, but keeping myself in darkness, focusing in private on what I'm doing to her; doing for her. Danny had liked me to look in his eyes sometimes, but I had always felt too self conscious. He would often order me to do it just as he came. I had always felt diminished in those moments, literally and figuratively, looked down on while I swallowed his cum. But that's not how I feel opening my eyes now. I don't feel ashamed looking into Claire's eyes. I feel like the rare and beautiful woman Claire tells me I am.

Her cheeks are flush and her skin glistens. Her nostrils are wide and wet. She is drawing deep breaths and gazing at me with something akin to wonder. Her lips are parted. They are full and pink, standing out from her rosy sun-kissed skin almost as if they were painted.

The Bull is sliding easily down my throat now. I push as much in as I can before slowly withdrawing for her, holding her gaze, keeping my lips sealed as best I can. I love the girth; the feel of it compressing my tongue, filling my throat, until I can feel my neck bulging. I imagine how wonderful it would be to be able to make her cum this way. I picture her fucking my throat, her ass jerking and pumping the way Kip's did, pounding fast and hard. I am moaning; high pitched bird sounds like Robert was making. My free hand is rubbing my pussy. I can cum this way.

I am very close to taking The Bull all the way down my throat before I have to withdraw again, short of breath. I want to release it with a playful pop, but it's more of a choked gag and a desperate gasp.

"Lay back for me," she coos as I work to catch my breath. "You are going to hurt yourself doing that," she teases as I drop back onto my ass and elbows, shifting my feet out of the way so she can climb between my legs and mount me.