Pharr Flung (Well Hung) Tours

Our water bottles were filled, boot laces tightened and we were off to the Canyon of the Vaginas. I was a giddy girl as I took my first step following Loria with Vance in the lead. I was thinking of the erotic landscape ahead, and the erotic possibilities for a flirty little fling among the hoodoos and vagina-shaped concretions. It would be a fantasy landscape of towering, erect penises among the mysterious and powerful charms of etched vaginas displayed on a secret stone wall. It was enough to make a girl like me want to unpack Vance's heretofore only imagined enormous cock and watch it casually swing side to side as he led us to girls to a land of storied seduction, bubbling with steamy orgasmic possibilities. My mind was stirred with visions of metaphysical feminine energy flowing from a legendary witch-spirit who employed her mother of all vaginas to do battle. My wild and raging thoughts of fulfilling my summer fling fantasy were tempered knowing that my best friend was suffering the painful pangs of her endometriosis condition. After our morning discussion with Vance about the mystical healing properties provided by the carved vaginas, I sensed that that Loria was hoping for a miracle of sorts for herself.

The pungent scent of sagebrush was carried on the wind as it rose out of the sloping plain spread before us, wafting up and over the cliff's rim as we stood and drank in the vista stretching unblemished, unchanged for eons. Vance let us stand in silence for a while as we struggled to comprehend the majesty of the land, in its warm, surreal hues washing over the abrupt topographic breaks and lone, outlier rock remnants standing tall on the land. In a reverent tone, Vance broke into the rustling melody of the breeze moving through the trees behind us, "That's the trail that will lead you down into the Canyon of the Vaginas," pointing a few yards to our right. "You can see that we're standing on Triassic age sandstone that forms the cliff, but the base of the cliff is the Permian red shale. I think you can pick out for yourselves the numerous hoodoos, those erosional pillars standing erect further out in the middle distance."

"Kind of erotic," agreed Loria, "more beautiful and spectacular than I imagined."

"Female visitors usually seem to most enjoy the vagina-like concretions and their allied magical, feminine medicine carvings tucked in that little slit right there." Vance pointed out the canyon with an unmistakable lilt to his voice. "Well, you already know of the power, mystery, awe and the deference that this place instills among the few who come here. If you are a believer in the tales I've told about the protective power of the female presence said to live here, you can decide how you wish to approach her. I'll leave you ladies alone to seek whatever you so desire in this special place. In a little while I'll come down that trail into the Canyon of the Vaginas. I tell you this so you can have privacy and peace and will not be surprised to see me walking down the path once you've had some time to meditate and get in touch with your feminine energy."

Our guide, standing between me and Loria, stretched out his well toned arms, laying his hands on our shoulders simultaneously. He gave each of us a light squeeze, dropped his arms and without a word, turned and disappeared into the forest behind us.

Loria turned to me, "Are we ready for our close up with the wonderful witch of the Canyon of the Vaginas?"

"Not until we are properly dressed... er, properly undressed. Shall we?"

We walked the short distance to where Vance had indicated the trail descended into the canyon. At the top of the precipice were several piles of stacked rocks with sticks rising from their stone supports. The small monuments were more than sticks and stones, they were shrines, offerings of a pagan nature to the sublime power of the female sex and the mystery of her uterus; the font of life and all creation placed within her loins. These humble offerings were staked and presented to the goddess and in homage to all of her earthbound daughters. Panties and bra fluttered from the poles, presented in celebration and thanks by those who have been given the blessing of the magnificent clitoris, bringer of pleasure.

I surveyed the tribute poles hung with panties, some lacey and frilly and some pedestrian, comfortable cotton underwear; most weathered and faded by the elements. There were a few bras left in feminine tribute, attended by strings of beads, amulets, pendants and some handwritten notes folded and placed beneath weighted stones. Silent prayers of supplication and thanks I would imagine. All were left in place undisturbed so that they might continue to project their sacred and secret desires into the surrounding forest, stone and air of this sanctified space.

Feeling the serene presence and the uplifting energy of the place, Loria and I fell quiet and began to disrobe at the brim of the cliff. I untied my hair allowing it to be lifted off my shoulders. The updraft rising from the warm stone face below caught a few strands and tickled my lips. I was embraced by the warm breath of an invisible lover. I absent mindedly unbuttoned my chambray shirt while I kept my gaze out over the colorful land rolling out below. I let the fabric fall from my shoulders and drift to the sandy soil at my heels, it seemed inappropriate to fuss with retrieving it and folding it neatly. No, this was sensual, this was raw and unfinished, a natural act to stand before the creation in my own skin. It would have been an unwarranted domestic contrivance to attempt to make this a tidy business. I paused in the early afternoon freckled light beneath the swaying pines to feel the warmth on my neck and chest. I inhaled the honeyed air with scents of sage and pine, and I was transported to a realm of peace. I enjoyed my stance for a moment, until I felt a strange embarrassment at being clothed. Unclasping my bra, I pulled it easily off my breasts and stood topless with it hanging from my hand as I surveyed the soulful landscape before me. The heft of my mammaries tugged at my chest; I concentrated on their free hanging sensation. My breasts were full and expansive as they enjoyed their casual exposure to the afternoon warmth. My dark pink nipples rose in salute to the red stone monoliths in the distance. I was filled with satisfaction and wonder as I let my breasts project unbound into the natural world; a display of confidence and thrilling freedom. I threaded my bra onto the pole next to me and gave thanks for this place and the opportunity to be humbly in its presence. Turning my bare chest to the open grandeur in front of me, I felt blessed. I raised my arms and arched my back, lifting my tits in a proud display before the wide open world. The breeze suckled at my nipples and I held them up, full and beautiful, round and warm as an acknowledgement of my sacred womanhood. My nipples rose and stiffened in their exposure. I watched them thicken in response to the caressing air currents, the breath of a loving mother earth, whispering of awakenings and arousals. The warm sunlight played upon the pale curves of my upper breasts and I loved them more than I ever had. I slowly brought my arms down to bunch the pleasing pair together and hugged them as I slipped my spread fingers around my firming nipples. They were appreciative of the attention and responded as they expanded between my knuckles. I closed my fingers and gave them each a loving pinch, the pressure pleased them immensely and my inner thighs tingled, hinting of a desire for recognition there too. I let my finger tips sink into the flesh of my tits while allowing my firm touch to ebb as I trailed off of my boobs with just the lightest of touches. My nipples were saucy little beggars after their teasing treatment, they would get their satisfaction later. Releasing my jaunty nipples from the provocative grip of my knuckles, I slipped my finger tips around the contours of my breasts and enjoyed the feel as I let my fingers fall at a slow pace across my ribs and down to the waistband of my pants. I found my disrobing to be more sensual than any other time in which I had undressed myself. I swept my hands around my hips, feeling my ass and rubbing it, enjoying the sensation as I drew my hands up my backside, back around my hips, across my belly and down below my navel to the front of my pants.

Loria was behind me, already stripped down to her black panties. She reached around me, cupping my tits, enveloping them in her small hands as she playfully jiggled them from behind. I know she admired my fuller form and we were both feeling unrestrained and playful. I liked the playful attention from my best friend. We are so much alike, that I knew she was feeling frisky just like I was. She released the girls, and I turned and did the same trick to her, using my hands to cover her conical mounds that were firm and symmetrical, making them a delightful little handful. I gave her nipples atop her wide, dark areolas the playful, pinching attention they deserved. My friend smiled at the new playfulness between us two best friends. "Say Meredith, now that I've got your attention," she whispered, "what are you going to do with your clothes?"

"Hmm. I hadn't really thought about it until now. I'll definitely wear my boots down the trail; I'll take them off once I get to the base of the cliff. It looks pretty soft and sandy, like a beach, once we get down. I think the proper precedent has been set by bloomerless maidens that have blazed this trail before us; I'm going to leave my unmentionables behind, as a sacrificial tribute of sorts, I guess. As naughty as my thoughts have been lately, I still don't see myself hiking two miles in the nude. I'll get dressed in boots, pants and my shirt for the return hike, but I think I'll leave those items right here and pick them up on the way back. How about you?"

"That's a good idea. I'll do the same as you."

I sat on the ground and held my legs in the air, asking my friend to tug on the pant legs and pull them off over my boots. I again left my clothes in an untidy heap on the ground, as I stood, wiggled my ass in the air as I shed my pretty pink bikini bottoms and festooned them atop my bra. A quick check with two of my fingers discreetly slipped between my legs verified that the long, slow vibrating drive in, and the sensual act of exposing my skin on a warm, early summer afternoon in the wild wilderness had performed its charm. I was wet and slippery and ready to explore girl power with the great spirit of the Canyon of the Vaginas. Lubed and loaded, summer fling her I come.

It was a scramble to hop down to a couple of blocks that had slumped off the cliff face at the trailhead. With bold boobs bouncing as we hopped from boulder to boulder, I felt empowered; maybe there was something to the women's lib bra-burning movement. Two naked ladies (except for the practical footwear) sallied forth down the trail. It was an unexpected thrill to be walking nude as we descended a steep path hugging the vertical topography. My friend, trailing behind me, asked, "What's your plan once we get down into the Canyon and see the carved vaginas and the hoodoo penises up close?"

"Girl, do you really need to ask me that? I've been working myself up into a lather since the day school let out, fantasizing about a summer fling ever since we both fixated on Vance's pants that evening at your place. I thought we were both all-in on taking a 'well-hung' adventure tour in out-of-the-way places. Don't tell me I'm alone in my fantasy about letting Vance take a special tour of my personal exotic, erotic, out-of-the-way places - because I know you and I think so much alike."

"Yeah Mer, I've had some real juicy ideas about what could happen with me and Vance out here, but my female troubles coming on today has destroyed any hope of that. It's just too painful; no way will I be in the mood to be seduced. Honestly, the thought of a thick cock stuffed between my legs right now almost makes me nauseous, I'm sorry to say. I wish I we could be co-seductresses. This is a marvelous place, full of mystery and beauty; it'd be fantastic be laid out here in desert. If only things were different for me."

"So what's your plan now that we're at the fabled Canyon of the Vaginas?" I asked, unwilling to look back over my shoulder and take my eyes off of the narrow trail. There'd be a hard fall in store for anyone not concentrating.

"I'm intrigued by the story of the healing power of the vaginas etched in stone. I'm going to let you go off and get off - if that's your plan. I'm going to spend some meditative time in the Canyon of the Vaginas."

I told my friend that I understood. I offered to compare notes at the end of the day, once we were alone for some good girl-talk about being bad girls.

Our trail delivered us to a flat surface of windblown dust and sand pushed against the steep rock face from which we'd just descended. Loria picked up a handful of the fine red sediment and let it sift through her fingers where it was caught in the breeze and formed a small whirling cloud that hung in the air and drifted toward the narrow opening in the rock. We stared at the phenomena. I know a chill went down my spine as I watched the phantom form travel before us. "Did you see that? Did you see how that dust cloud came off my fingers and made a ghostly shape as it drifted away from me? Meredith, call me crazy, but I think there is meaning in that, maybe a message. I believe this place has a spirit and I feel like we're welcome."

"I was feeling the same thing. It was drawing us over to the opening of the Canyon of the Vaginas." I spoke with hushed awe as I pushed Loria on the shoulder to urge her to follow in the direction of our floating, ephemeral red omen.

We entered the Canyon of the Vaginas, it was narrower than I'd imagined and was floored with dry red, almost purple mud, a contrast to the pale, butter milk yellow of the sheer sandstone walls. The walls were amazing and beautiful. I imagined we'd just entered an ancient hallway covered in Paleolithic wall paper with repeating designs. There was no mistaking the shape of the replicated patterns, they were all vaginas. They were maybe a thousand years old, yet they spoke to me this very day. I heard the voices and desires of those sisters who had also traveled here before, each fervently seeking something. Loria and I took slow steps as we lingered with a sense of the sacred, running our fingers along the etched oval shapes covering the surface. The carved vaginas never touched the natural concretions that had formed many millions of years ago.

Loria turned to me, "Meredith, I feel that I need to stay here in this place. Alone. Do you mind?"

Without a word I turned toward the entrance where the bright sunlight was held out, keeping the Canyon of the Vaginas shadowed in mystery. I stepped at a slow, reverent pace; within my heart I felt exhilaration. I stepped from the shaded confines of the Canyon of the Vaginas into the bright sunlight of the desert afternoon. I had travel down the birth canal. I had been reborn. I was overcome with the sense that I had a new life. I felt renewed. I was a believer in the mystical power of the Canyon of the Vaginas. I felt assured, strong, thankful and full of grace. And I felt horny; funny how feeling so good revs up the libido. I was a new woman and I wanted to feel like full woman. I was a female sexual creature and I needed a befitting sexual experience to christen my new being. My renewed woman sense of being embraced, brought the desired for a mystical orgasmic revelation from this place. Damn, I was getting horny - and this girl hadn't even it made down the trail to the hoodoos yet to gaze with lust upon the legendary petrified penises.

I was Eve walking in paradise. I was naked and I was not ashamed. My eyes beheld an angular and lonely landscape and I was a part of this creation. I was feminine, fleshy, soft and rounded, a perfect complement to this environment of hard surfaces carved square. I wanted to explore my wet pussy in this dry place. I wanted to open up my soft, feminine form and share it with the masculine forms towering strong around me. I wanted to become one with the earth as far as I could cast my eyes. I wanted to be brought to passion as I wrapped my body around the horizon, opening my vagina like the witch of the canyon and taking everything around me into my being. Only then could I be satisfied. I had a void and I felt the need to be filled.

I wandered among the hoodoos, phallic, lofty and strong. The story of their origin and the whole ethos of this place played upon my carnal imagination as the sunlight and breeze played upon my skin. I had always enjoyed sex when the opportunity came along, but now I was consumed. I was dizzy and had an aching sort of buzzing within me. I had squirrels in my chest and butterflies in my pelvis. I was done touring, I needed a place to stop and get a hold of myself.

I found my ideal hoodoo, a thick earthen pillar, capped with a broad, gently concaved slab of sandstone. This perfect erection stretched seven feet into a sky of brilliant blue across the southern horizon and which hosted hazy clouds with hues of deep blue and gray around the mountain peaks far to the north. I scaled my chosen cock rock. Taking a wide stance, deliberately exposing my pussy to the petrified penis beneath me, I pointed my breasts into the south breeze. I commanded the elements to play with me, arouse me. I felt the gentle caress of desert thermals come and wrap between my legs and brush my nipples. I felt the sun fill my hair and drench my back and warm my breasts and belly with the heat of a lover pressed close. I stood tall and felt the primal trinity of elements; earth, wind and fire infuse every follicle and cell in my stripped down body. The sand grains rough on my bare soles, the wind teasing my loose hair and the sun being imbibed into every exposed pore of my flesh.

I lowered myself and leaned back on the curved capstone balanced on the phallic pedestal beneath me. I shifted to scratch the skin on my back as I let the warmth of the sun baked surface seep into my bare skin, basking like a lazy lizard. I closed my eyes and cupped my breasts, fondled them with firm manipulations, pushing them up and then in, giving the girls the pleasure of sweet attention. I rolled my open hands upward from beneath their supple curves, coming to rest upon my nipples. I pressed my hands flat and down on the tips of my breasts, grinding the engorged, sensitive tips with circular motions of my palms. I released my nipples as I slipped my fingers to the side of my boobs, pushing the mounded tissue together, trying to get my elongated nipples to kiss one another. My fingers climbed back to the tips of my tits, where I captured the sensitized pink pillars between thumb and finger, giving them each a pinch. The rough treatment of the girls sent sensations of hot, gusting lust, sweeping to my secret inside spot. I relented and rubbed my nipples tenderly with wetted fingers, only to grab them again and make them scream in delight as swarms of pulsing waves traveled from my chest to my belly. I was growing creamy and wet between my thighs and I alternated caressing, pulling and pinching my thick nipples, giving me a rhythmic sense of self pleasure and self pain. I found nipple play, while spread open atop an erosionally sculpted, hard, towering cock to be most erotic.

I could no longer resist my tender lady parts weeping with desire. I was stirred with a growing excitement, feeling a throbbing hum beating within my vulva. There was a smoldering fire inside of me, which I had ignited and it now demanded my attention. I relished the sensation of anticipation as I let my fingers flow off my boobs, across my heaving ribs, around my hips, sliding between my splayed legs, landing at my bent knees. I let my anticipation build as I dragged my fingers toward my canyon, ever so lightly along the responsive flesh of my inner thighs. My pussy throbbed and pulsed, begging to be touched. I was succulent, filled with viscous womanly waters. My pounding heart pumped my heated blood to my labia, making me feel full and puffy like an overripe fruit hanging in paradise, ready to be plucked. My clitoris had grown stiff and hard in her excitement to push out from behind her delicate hood, wanting to be teased, excited, twiddled and loved. The princess grew engorged and hot and she became ever so demanding in her need to be bathed in the royal nectar of my feminine arousal. My pussy was radiating a wet heat. Her fluids seeped out, where they were meant to slosh around my pink rim and swabbed across my begging clit. I had no control, I had to obey the princess. I place my hands around my vulva, stretching to spread my sodden labia and expose my clit to the world. The touch of my hands on my stimulated labia gave me cause to draw a sharp breath, a jolt of pre-orgasmic electricity shot from my uterus to my toes. I let out a yip that faded into a long, low moan as my toes curled into tight sexual spasms. I surrendered any thought of control. I was at the mercy of the princess poking her royal pink bundle of orgasmic nerve endings into my sloppy wet void. High on my perch I laid on my back, my legs thrown open feeling my wetness well up from inside me and trickle down my warm inner thighs to water the stone cock beneath me.