Kerith and Kamilka Ch. 03

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In ‘Kerith and Kamilka 1,’ lesbian and trans-woman met, in a fantasy based on the imaginings of another Literoticist. ‘Kerith and Kamilka 2’ covered their second mating, Kerith narrating. Kamilka now narrates the final episode.

PROPOSAL

On our third anniversary we arrived home from work together. Without delaying to snack or shower we began to undress each other. Relishing the aroma of unwashed bodies, the salty, sweaty, ammoniacal scent of vagina and the smegmatic, cheesy odour from erecting cock.

However well you know your lover’s body, the anticipation as you unlatch her bra and free her breasts, and the heart-stopping excitement as you view them for the thousandth time, never diminish. And her thrill at freeing my prick from my panties has never declined.

She gave a little gasp as she hardened me, by taking my glans in her mouth and whisking her tongue around it. Then she knelt on the bed, offering her pantied bottom, knowing I love to draw the garment slowly down her thighs, unfolding the vista of those perfect cheeks, swelling out from her narrow back.

‘Go straight in, darling,’ she said. ‘I’m wet and I need you in there right now.’

I positioned myself behind her and brought my penis forward, seeking without hands her eager vestibule. Thus, I could hold my breasts, gently twanging the nipples, rejoicing in my transtatus, able simultaneously to push a taut tool into a receptive vagina and tease the nubs of my swelling bosoms – glorious duality!

‘Enter me slowly, honey,’ she said. We liked to use ‘enter.’ ‘I’m entering you now’ gave her a delicious frisson, and her telling me, ‘Enter me, darling’ made me shiver with pride and glee. What greater privilege can there be than hearing your lover asking you to go inside her, or your telling her you are going to do it?

So, I eased my cock-head into her, and said, ‘Honey, yes, I’m entering with your honey, running down your legs.’ It was, soaking into her panties just above her knees. ‘It’s so warm and sweet in there, holding me.’

‘Slip out and in,’ she bade me, and I rocked on my knees to set up a little see-saw, in-out, the shoulders parting her slippy lips and letting them fold up like petals round my shaft.

‘Slowly, further in now.’ And I slid in another inch and again moved out and inwards, holding back the gathering sperm-tsunami.

‘Clit,’ she said, and I let go a breast, leaned forward and reached round her hip to trig her trigger. I stirred round it gently, and she shuddered.

‘All the way,’ she commanded, and I forced home, edging up alongside her cervix.

When the cock is all the way inside there is a sweet moment of satisfaction, as the labia lap round the base, confirming that you are fully engulfed, contained within your lover.

‘All the way out and in.’ She was breathing hard, ‘Keep on the clit.’

I withdrew and pistoned in again, and again, and again. I could feel the semen gathering in my balls, the spermedium primed in my prostate.

I held them in stasis by focusing on the exquisite sensation as my cock plugged into her cunny-mouth, and the satisfaction as she swallowed me completely.

Her vagina began to flutter around me. She was poised for orgasm and I only needed her to say, ‘I’m cumming, darling. Do you feel me cumming? Cum now. Cum into me.’

I pressed a finger onto her clitoris, withdrew part way and drove home. ‘Cumming, sweetheart,’ I said. ‘It’s cumming, cumming into you. Now!’ And as we came, I gasped, ‘Please, will you marry me?’

At the crest of her climax she said, ‘Oh, yes! Yes!’ And I poured my soul into her, my cock pulsing and pumping, jetting my jism.

Proposal and acceptance. Rather briefer than the discussion of how we should go about the locking of our wedlock. We didn’t want any conventional religious service but something celebrating our harmonious fusing of woman and trans-woman. Which was why, after some research, we engaged an African-American woman, Silvana, to organise and officiate. Basing the ceremony on my doctoral research into the inter-relationship of art, literature and music.

The wedding would be videoed, and I am viewing the result right now, aiding my vivid recall of the occasion and, of course, providing an external perspective, so we can endlessly see ourselves as the film-maker and other participants saw us.

DANCING WITH THE GRACES

We arrived at the chosen venue, a gymnasium. Two double-beds and mattresses had been imported, pushed together and draped in green sheeting. The walls were covered in large poster-reproductions of paintings of nudes and erotic scenes, some from my master’s degree project. canlı bahis I cannot include the images, because of copyright issues, but some can easily be called up online by googling the work’s title. Beginning with Gustave Courbet’s (1877) ‘The Origin of the World,’ for this depicted the enchanted forest, the sacred wood, that I was twice to enter that day,

Willibald Gluck’s (1774) ‘Dance of the Blessed Spirits’ was playing from loudspeakers, and as we entered, Silvana, barefoot in a white robe, came to take our hands to lead us towards the two separate trios of women seated on either side of the beds. She introduced them: ‘Your Bridesmaids.’

One set rose and undid the blue belts of long green robes., revealing they were naked and that all three were trans. They cast aside their robes and grouped themselves in the pose of the Graces. They were lovely, smooth, without body-hair, utterly feminine (many images of the Three Graces available on the internet, paintings and statues).

The videographer, a short, broad Mexican-American woman in a loose, black, robe, stepped forward, raised her camera and began to film.

They moved to the music, circling, each in turn presenting her back, beautifully bottomed and breasted, but with stiffening cocks brushing against each other’s thighs. They moved to enfold me into their circle, casting off my blue robe, and we adopted the configuration of ‘Cupid and the Four Graces,’ and as their hardening cocks and nipples pressed against me I began to harden.

At the same time, the other trio of Bridesmaids rose, threw off their robes and revealed themselves as women, but with boskage unshaven, for Silvana knew we liked pussies naturally hirsute. The Videographer moved about, crouching to view us from below, shifting from group to group, backing away for long shots, closing for what turned out to be huge close-ups of nipples, cocks, runnels of sweat, glistening puss-fur.

The music modulated into Maurice Ravel’s (1928) ‘Bolero,’ and we Four Graces stepped out vigorously as my charming attendants rhythmically massaged my breasts, stroked my thighs, tweaked my nipples, cupped my balls and squeezed my cock, so that it swelled to near maximum. We transmitted our mounting arousal to each other, and I ran my hands up and down their cocks, caressed their bottoms, bent to kiss their breasts. But they were not urging me towards ejaculation. Instead they were dancing me, charging me, into a state of exaltation, spiritually priming me for total fulfilment.

Meantime, Kerith’s Grace-Maids had similarly gathered her up and all four were pacing round together, ensuring that two mouths were latched onto her breasts, hands were smoothing her bum and fingers teasing at her pussy, slipping and sliding into vulva and vagina. Not neglecting each other, either, as hands also danced in time to the pulsing music. And, as with our Trans-Quartet the excitation was not towards orgasm but towards the same intensifying fusing of mind-body-spirit into an ecstatic condition of super-awareness.

Silvana moved between the two Foursomes, and, like a caller at a line-dance, drew us into a new pattern in which she was holding Kerith and me either side of her body, the Six Bridesmaids still circling, weaving in and out, hand over hand, pausing on the beat to embrace, Trans and Cis, kissing deeply, caressing cunt and cock, moving in exultation.

Silvana intoned, ‘Disrobe the celebrant,’ and the circling six reached for her shoulders and sash and slipped off her white robe. Beneath it she, too, was naked, dark nipples erect on heavy breasts, luxuriant bush standing forth as if electrically charged.

The music faded. Movement ceased. She asked, ‘Who gives this Bride to this Bride?’

In the silence, my Maids intoned,’We give this Bride into her Bride.’ And they came forward and took me from Silvana, two either side and one behind, all with their arms wrapped about me, their cocks pressing into me, the rear one lodged between my cheeks.

As the second movement of Edvard Grieg’s (1868) ‘Piano Concerto’ swelled from the speakers, Silvana asked ritually, ‘Who gives this Bride to her Bride?’

Kerith’s Maids answered, ‘We give this Bride for her Bride to enter.’ And they collected Kerith in the same configuration, with the rear Maid’s hand reaching in under the cheeks into her slit.

VOWING

Silvana turned towards me and reached for my penis. Taking it gently in her hand she asked, ‘Kamilka, do you take Kerith to be your Wife, your Lover, your Lifelong Woman?’

‘I do,’ I said, and my attendants hugged me tight, kissed my face, breasts, buttocks.

Silvana continued, ‘Will bahis siteleri you love, respect, cherish, succour her forever?’

‘I will,’ I said, and Silvana kissed me, lips to lips and my Maids repeated loudly, ‘She does, she will, she does, she will, forever.’

‘Prepare this Bride,’ Silvana instructed. My Trainsmaids lifted me, one holding my legs, the others holding my waist and upper chest, and carried me to the beds, where they lowered me and resumed their caressing.

Silvana stepped to Kerith, reached a hand to her pussy and asked, ‘Kerith, do you take Kamilka to be your Wife, your Lover, your Lifelong Woman?’

The questions and answers were the same, naturally, her Maids hugging and kissing her and chanting, ‘She does, she does, she will, she will, forever.’

After which they lifted her and carried her to the beds, laid her down.and stroked and massaged her, keeping her aloft in the blissful state of psycho-spiritual euphoria I also was in.

Of course, with the video I can keep track of everything that was not at the time within my view or that I was seeing through that physio-sexual haze. Now, I can watch Silvana make her way to lie between us, on her back, knees lifted and apart.

She calls, ‘Prepare the Celebrant,’ and my Maids leave me. One lies between Silvana’s thighs, poised to enter her beautiful, luxuriant muff. The other two kneel either side of her and bow towards her breasts, tonguing her nipples.

‘Enter!’ she commands and the first Maid obediently sinks her long-erected penis into that dark-pink chasm and begins to rock back and forth. Quite soon Silvana lets loose a gusty sigh and murmurs, ‘First cum,’ and as the spasm eases says, ‘Next!’ And there is a swift rearrangement, the servitor changes places with another Maid, who plunges into Silvana’s glistening gorge and, in her turn, brings on the cry of ‘Second cum!’ The third Maid is then called to organ Silvana to orgasm, with ‘Third cum! The Celebrant is ready.’ That this is so is attested by a slick of lubricant easing down her bum-crack.

As my Trans-Maids resume their attentions, still hard because they have not ejaculated, the music once more modulates, into Igor Stravinsky’s (1913) ‘The Rite of Spring,’ and Silvana calls, ‘Prepare the Bride!’

Kerith’s Maids cease their caresses and lift her, turn her face up and carefully lay her onto Silvana, so that her bottom cheeks rest in the Celebrant’s groins. They are poised pussy above pussy, and the Maids are at work on both, sliding fingers along the vulvae, teasing at the vestibules, collecting dew from Silvana to smear on Kerith.

‘Offer the Trans-Bride!’ Silvana calls, and my Maids lift me, face down and place me atop Kerith, but still taking my weight, my hips between Silvana’s thighs. Kerith’s Maids move up and two begin to lap at her nipples.

The third takes my cock between her fingers and thumb and eases the loose skin up and down the shaft to ensure I am fully hard. She poises the tip at Silvana’s opening.

‘Kerith and Kamilka,’ Silvana says, ‘Are you read to Consummate?’

We chorus, ‘We are ready.’

BLESSING

‘Then, Kamilka, enter my Temple for Blessing,’ and as my Maids propel me forwards, the Kerith-Maid slides me into Silvana. Her vagina is scalding hot, glutinous, all- enveloping, but I hold back the long-preparing ejaculation.

‘With my Body I bless your Union,’ Silvana shouts, ‘Enter Bride into Bride!’

My Maids hoist me back a little and my cock comes free. On the video it gleams with Silvana’s lubing. Then Kerith’s Maid offers it to Kerith’s cunny and, as my Maids swing me forward, slides me home.

The music moves into Ludwig van Beethoven’s (1824) ‘Hymn to Joy,’ and there is a rearrangement on the beds. The three Transmaids move behind Kerith’s Maids, who raise their bottoms to welcome vaginal penetration.

‘Enter with joy, Lingam in Yoni,’ Silvana calls, and three lingams plunge home.

There is a long moment of stillness, with four cocks now embedded.

‘Kerith and Kamilka, Consummate your Marriage!’ Silvana shouts, and, as I begin, my whole consciousness moves into my cock, so that I experience my whole body as lapped in Kerith’s cunt, all my vital juices collecting to be poured into her. As the all-over orgasm gathers, I hear one of the accompanying couples cry out, ‘Cumming, oh cumming. Cum with me,’ and ‘Yes, I’m cumming.’ And on the video, I can see the couple is the Maid who put me into Kerith and the Transmaid who was holding my legs.

As Kerith begins to moan in ecstasy, the second couple calls out, ‘Cum! Oh cum!’

CONSUMMATING

At this point my body-cock bahis şirketleri swells to burst forth my thick essence, and as I pulse within her Kerith shouts, ‘Now, darling, Pour your Life into me.’ We are aloft on a long, long billow of bliss.

Silvana, alive to the moment states, ‘I Pronounce you Wife and Wife.’

The six Bridesmaids fall towards us, collect the sticky fluids from cock and quim and smear them and themselves all over us. The Videographer moves close to pan across the seething mass of breasts and bums sliding all over our conjoined bodies. But she cannot record the powerful, heady miasma around us of semen, sweat, cunt and cock.

The music modulates into Edvard Grieg’s (1975) ‘Morning, from Peer Gynt,’ and all nine of us lie inert and spent for a time. I dimly sense that the Videographer moves back to capture this vista of motionless bosomage, bottomage, pussage, flaccid prickage.

Then, as the music ends, Silvana gently eased herself from under Kerith and calls, ‘Who will Service the Celebrant?’ And I remember realising that while three vaginae had been spermed, there remained one which had not received ejaculate. I wondered which Transmaid would serve, assuming that I was not expected to perform that role.

A quiet voice spoke from above our recumbent bodies. ‘I am Servitor.’ And we all looked up at the stocky Videographer,’ without camera, dark eyes shining, broad mouth smiling. ‘Is my Joying Duty.’

The black robe was opened and cast off, and there were seven gasps of wonder and a throaty laugh from Silvana. For what was revealed was a Latin Trans-Woman with impressive breasts, and, hence the gasps, the largest cock I had ever seen.

It jutted out of a thick mass of blue-black curls a good ten inches, which was spectacular. But it was the thickness which staggered those who had not seen it before. It was a billy-club, a missile on its hirsute launch-pad, a cut-down baseball bat, three inches in diameter at least in the shaft, its bulbous, purple-swelling head yet wider at the shoulders.

‘Come, Milagros,’ Silvana said quietly, and we all shifted aside as Milagros climbed onto the beds and moved towards her, huge erection swaying side to side, coming to rest between Silvana’s open thighs.

‘Suck nipples,’ Silvana instructed, and several Maids knelt up and bent to oblige, taking it in turns to nibble, suck and lick.

‘Give your liquor,’ Silvana went on, and digits plunged into pussies to gather slime and smeared it onto her vulva and, reverently, onto the great onion of that penis, poised to part those waiting lips.

‘All hold,’ Silvana almost whispered and we all laid hands on the two bodies, eager to bring them together. Kerith and I understood that we were to guide the great penis and we fastened our hands around it, hers behind mine.

Milagros spoke again, ‘Pushing bottam.’

Several hands were laid onto her big, firm cheeks and they pushed. I presented the end of the monster cock to the half-open labia and we all tried to position ourselves to watch its slow progress inwards. The lips were forced open as the glans thrust in. Then they closed round the shaft below the shield, as I took away my hand, and the inward progress continued until Kerith removed her hand. We gazed in admiration, curious as to how much Silvana could absorb. She gasped with the pleasure, and Milagros began to grunt and clench her cheeks under the propelling hands.

Milagros muttered, ‘Is good-fine, wonderfully, all go in. ‘All must inside.’

‘Yes,’ Silvana said, ‘Give me all, all of it. Fill me, fill me. She wriggled a little as if freeing space within her, and somehow, she received almost all of it. Perhaps an inch remained outside, rimmed by the stretched labia.

By this time Silvana was beginning to cum from the sheer pressure within and on her clitoris, which had been dragged into contact with the in-sliding shaft. She moaned and crooned in ecstasy, calling, ‘Cum, cum, cum now.’

And Milagros drew back an inch, pile-drove home and juddered all over. ‘Oh, yes, I cumming, I cumming,’ she said almost matter-of-factly, and went rigid.

So little room was there in Silvana’s chamber that the custard-like semen almost at once began to seep out round the still ejaculating penis, and such was the arousal of watching this scene, to this point of completion, that two Transmaids rammed fresh erections into two willing cunnies and bucked home to mutual satisfaction.

Milagros and Silvana remained locked together a long time, their breathing settling, until, at last, Milagros withdrew, her cock still half-erect. A flood of mixed juices followed it out and we all dabbled in the pool and anointed each other.

Silvana gathered Kerith and me against her now slack breasts and said, ‘Go Forth in Love and Beauty for your Lives.’

And we have.

Giacomo Gross, Nude.

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