Reverse Tug o’ War


The senior girls’ dorm at our boarding school is only very lightly supervised, and if I’m honest, we exploit their trust a little. Once dinner is eaten and homework is done, we have the evening to ourselves because the staff are all busy mothering the junior girls. The headmaster would have a fit if he ever found out what we get up to. Or at the very least he would demand videos! I should know … but that’s another story.

The boarding house is a surreal blend of innocence and iniquity. We spend half of our time talking about boys, even though most of us have never actually slept with one, and the other half at play with the vast collection of vibrators and dildos bequeathed to the dorm by senior girls over its many, many years of operation.

Wednesday night is games night—this week it was Reverse Tug of War. It’s not my favourite game; girls my size don’t stand a chance. It’s played between two girls using a long, double-ended dildo we call Silver. That’s short for Long John Silver, and it’s the only short thing about him. We tie an elastic band around the middle and—well, you get it, first to the middle wins. I can’t even get close. Silver is just too big for me, so the best I can ever hope for is a draw.

For a laugh, I have been known to challenge my best friend, Trish. She’s six feet tall with long auburn hair and pale Gaelic skin, and she’s one of the girls who can reliably take a full half of Silver without pain. I can’t beat her, but I get a kick from gripping Silver with my secret muscles and fucking him back and forth inside her before I let her win. It makes for a good show, and it gives the new girls the courage to give it a try.

Wednesday night’s game might just go down in dorm history. I think stories will still be told late at night and in hushed tones when my granddaughter enrols. It was Trish who volunteered, of course, and she challenged my new roommate, Rupali. Rupali is six-one and built like an underwear model with breasts that defy gravity. She has coffee-and-cream skin, and gorgeous cascades of long black hair, cut into bangs at the front that frame her high cheekbones. I watched her getting ready for the challenge—red satin nightie, panties off, lubricating herself and her end of Silver. Despite our autoerotic games in the dorm, I’ve always thought of myself as very much heterosexual and was confused by some of the feelings she was evoking.

They sat on the floor, facing each other with long, shapely legs scissored together, each with one head of the enormous dildo nestled in their vagina. I caught myself studying Rupali more closely than I probably ought to have been, and I felt a flush of shame mix with my heady excitement. Her pubic hair was trimmed into the shape of a small apostrophe above her sex, and her outer labia—now spread wide around Silver’s girth—were completely shaved and showing pink glimpses of her inner womanhood at the edges.

As a friend of both girls (and unofficial games-mistress of the dorm), I was the referee. It’s a mostly ceremonial role, because it’s really not a very complex game. After making sure both girls were ready, I fulfilled the bulk of my duties in a single motion by dropping a hair ribbon between them to commence the match.

Crabbing forward on their bottoms, and with lots of contact between those long, smooth legs, they greedily gobbled four to five inches in a single thrust. Oh my Lord! It takes me minutes to work that much cock into my tiny pussy, and these two Amazon goddesses managed it in a couple of seconds! There was a respectful gasp from the group of seniors assembled to watch, and more than a little sympathetic clenching of thighs—myself included.

The easy bit was over, and Trish leaned back expertly, relaxing her muscles, straightening her hips and keeping her clitoris away from contact with the shaft. This earned her another inch or two, and Rupali—seeing the sense in her strategy—copied. Both girls had about six inches, which is enough to fill me up completely, and now they were working against the friction, lifting and rolling their hips, stretching their vaginas and trying to upset the other girl’s angle of entry. Their breath was coming in panting gasps as each girl’s gyrations caused the dildo to dance and buck deep inside the other’s pussy; before long, both were glowing with perspiration.

The audience watched on, completely rapt now, and I noticed several hands disappearing beneath nighties as the tension mounted. Both girls made it to the final inch and were obviously full—twin, rubber cockheads pressing against the backs of their vaginas. With legs locked tightly and engorged lips separated by less than two scant inches of rubber shaft, they were forced to move as one, lifting and thrusting in unison. Together, they made one last desperate push, lunging towards each other, and in a breathless instant, their labia met, hiding the centre marker from view so that nobody could tell the winner.

Incredibly, neither of them stopped and ten pairs of eyes stared jealously as these two tall, beautiful girls moaned and vocalised their pleasure, heads back, eyes shut and gorgeous long hair spilling around their shoulders. With desperate cries, they ground together at their centres, lips meeting, pressing and spreading in a passionate kiss.

Rupali grasped at Trish’s hips for better purchase, and they bucked and ground as a single being, their moans building to screams with impending mutual climax. When they came together, their backs arched, and they cried out in ecstasy, writhing and trying to move against each other, but unable to do so because of the shaft that joined them.

I heard several gasps as some other girls came under their own touch. I looked down, no longer surprised to see my own panties soaking wet, and I too succumbed to temptation, surreptitiously slipping a hand inside my sopping panties, rubbing and squeezing my clit in a fruitless effort to relieve the heat and longing down there.

Their single, sexual body became two again. Rupali unlocked her long brown legs from Trish’s midriff and slid backwards, disgorging the seemingly endless length of Silver, her inner folds clinging to the shaft as she withdrew, grudgingly relinquishing their hold as inch after endless inch poured from the incandescent cleft between her thighs.

A look passed between the two girls—not embarrassment, but an understanding that neither had intended this to happen, yet neither felt any regret.

The silence in the room was palpable. To break the tension, I suggested, “rematch?” in a voice that sounded far steadier than I felt. There was laughter all round and several girls—those who hadn’t yet come, I noticed—crept quietly off to their own bedrooms to minister their own needs.

I tidied the cushions and made myself useful washing Silver, while Rupali pulled on her panties and straightened her nightie.

“Time for bed?” she asked rhetorically.

It was time for bed, all right, but not for sleep. There was no way I could sleep until I’d cooled the fires she’d kindled.

“Um, sure,” I agreed. “I might just get myself a little treat from the toy box.” We were alone in the lounge and I went to return Silver to the secret box of dildos hidden in the recess beneath the sofa.

“Oh, you have got to be fucking joking.” I couldn’t believe it. I was Old Mother Hubbard, gone to the cupboard, to fetch her poor pussy a bone. Well, the cupboard wasn’t bare, but it might as well have been; there were only two left, which meant that a bunch of greedy Gerties had snuck off to bed with more than one each. I wasn’t judging; I’m a one-dildo kind of girl, and so long as they clean it afterwards, I don’t care where they stick the second one. But for fuck’s sake, they emptied the fucking box! Not happy.

Obviously, the last two dildos in the box were not the best ones. Hey, they weren’t even mid-range. One was Ernest, a slim gold vibe that doesn’t vibrate any more (I was going to need a lot more than Ernest had to give), and the other was Rawhide. Yep, just like the song: Strap it on, stick it in, move it round, Rawhide!

I looked at this sorry collection, and I looked at Silver in my hand. Silver was more than enough for my needs, but it had just been inside Rupali, and it seemed kind of, I don’t know, not icky, just personal. What does Miss Manners have to say about girls sharing sex toys? What’s the statute of limitations on a dildo before you’re allowed to go seconds? I think you should at least wait for it to cool down, and it was still warm in my hand.

Sullen, I dropped Silver into the box and picked up Ernest.

“It’s okay if you want Silver,” Rupali said. “I don’t think it’s weird.”

“No, that’s okay,” I sulked, making it very clear that it wasn’t okay, but nor was it her fault. “But if those bitches put everything back with flat batteries then I’m strapping Rawhide on and meting out some justice.”

Rupali grinned at me. “I can just see you strapped into that thing,” she said. “Very sexy image.”

Oh dear! Where did that come from? Forget the tingles I felt earlier, there were electric sparks arcing across my pussy. I clenched down wetly, not at the thought of me wearing Rawhide though.

I closed the toy box. “Let’s go to bed,” I said, not realising the double entendre until after it left my mouth.

“Wait.” Rupali reached back inside. “I might need a little something too.” I thought she was getting Silver again, but instead she pulled out Rawhide, clanking buckles and all. Hey, a dildo’s a dildo, I guess. It’s just hard to be discreet in a shared room with a noisy strapon secreted beneath your sheets.

We switched the lights out and walked together in the dark to our shared bedroom.

“Do you think Trish came?” Rupali asked thoughtfully, once we shut the door behind us.

I knew Trish came. I’d seen her come before and I’d seen her fake it. She was a lousy fake. I wondered for a moment why Rupali had asked, but another girl had just made her come in front of all her friends, and that kind of thing might leave you feeling self-conscious.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” I said. “Coming, I mean. It doesn’t make you a lesbian. I’ve come plenty of times playing games with the toys.”

“It’s not that,” she whispered, fingering the buckles of Rawhide. “I like boys and girls; I’ve known that for a long time,” —the tickle of excitement in my stomach was starting to feel decidedly familiar now— “but that was the first time I’ve ever come.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. I thought it would be good news, not bad. I knew she had slept with a boyfriend at her previous school and was surprised that she’d never climaxed. “What about your boyfriend?” I asked. “Didn’t he, you know … look after you?”

“He tried,” she explained. “But I never felt …” She searched for the right word. “… wild, like with Trish.” Then in a voice that sounded dangerously close to tears, “I thought I’d never have an orgasm, and now I finally have one and it’s with a girl. What if I never come with a man?”

Sweet baby Jesus! Talk about first-world problems!

“Oh, Rupali.” I tried to hug her, to comfort her, but with our height difference, I only managed to squeeze my face into her breasts. It was honestly more awkward than comforting, so I climbed onto the bed and held her face to face.

“They won’t all be like that, sweetie.” I didn’t sound entirely convincing. My sexual repertoire extended to exactly one guy; one very gifted guy who … but that’s another story.

“You were probably all tense with your boyfriend. And you know …” I had a revelation. “Teenage boys aren’t exactly renowned for their bedroom prowess.”

“Do you think?” She reached a long arm around my head to wipe her eyes, pulling us even closer. I felt our breasts crush together. Neither of us were wearing bras, and I could feel her nipples, little chips of granite pressing into me. I was taken aback momentarily before I realised that mine were the same. Could she feel them too?

“Anyway,” I continued, “it’s easier to relax when it’s just us girls,” I was making this up as I went. “I’ve come heaps of times playing games in the dorm.”

“With girls?” she asked, pulling back to look me in the eye.

“Sure, with girls.” As confused and excited as I felt holding Rupali in my arms, I honestly meant this in a completely heterosexual way. Yes, I’d come playing games. Yes, there were other girls playing too, but they weren’t connected—at least not in my mind.

Rupali looked searchingly into my eyes, and I could feel her hot breath on my lips.

Oh God, she’s going to k—

She kissed me, her soft lips pulling gently at mine, beseeching. I didn’t even think, I just opened my mouth and kissed her back. The confusion I’d felt out in the lounge, it all made perfect sense now, and I melted into her embrace, giving myself completely to whatever was about to happen. Rupali’s tongue touched my lips, testing to see if I wanted more, and I did. Oh, God, I did. Our tongues met and danced in the arena of our open lips.

She lifted my nightie over my head, breaking our kiss, her long soft fingers caressing my curves, lingering over my breasts, touching my nipples with her thumbs and setting off electric sparks of excitement. I slipped the thin straps of her nightie off her shoulders, and it fell to the floor, pooling around her ankles.

She held up Rawhide and looked at me questioningly.

“Uh huh.”

I climbed into bed, watching as she turned it around and unbuckled it, working out how to put it on. She discovered the inside dildo, and looked up at me, dark eyes flashing in surprise and pleasure.

I was entranced. She stood there, so tall, beautiful and utterly naked, glossy black hair cascading over one shoulder and framing a full, perfect breast as she ran her fingers over the short inner-dildo. I shivered. She stood with legs apart and moved the tip to her pussy, sliding it in easily. She held the leather cup to keep it inside and arranged the straps, tightening the buckles.

Ready now, she looked at me and struck a classic pin-up pose, turning side on, one hand on a hip the other patting her hair, turning her head back over her shoulder and looking at me through long eyelashes. Slender limbs, brown skin, ripe breasts standing out in profile … and a thick, seven-inch cock projecting from her crotch. She was perfection.

“How do I look?” she asked.

“Extraordinary,” I croaked. I ran a hand down the sheet beside me.

Rupali crept into bed, slipping one long arm beneath my neck and the other around my waist, pressing our bodies together. We kissed again, more hungrily this time. I put my own arms around her long, soft curves, kneading her bottom and pulling her closer. Her thick, latex cock pressed against my mound.

I rolled away, holding her hips, encouraging her to follow, and she rose onto her elbows above me. When I opened my legs, she moved between them, resting lightly on top of me, poised on her knees and elbows.

I reached down to feel for Rawhide, preparing to guide it into my wet centre. I wrapped my hand around the thick shaft and wasn’t quite able to touch my thumb to my middle finger tip—a good indication it would be a very tight fit. Would Rupali take it slow? Her need was as great as mine, and she was no expert at handling a monster cock. I broke off our kiss and looked into her eyes. “It won’t fit,” I whispered, frightened now.

“It will, we just need to take it slow.”

I took a long, shuddering breath. “Take me.”

She reached down with one hand and guided Rawhide into me. I was still wet from watching her earlier and I felt no discomfort as she pushed the first few inches inside, stopping when she reached resistance. She saw me wince. “Lube?”

“Top drawer.” I’m such a girl scout.

Without moving off me, Rupali fished around in my drawer and found my lube—a few awkward seconds later, she was greased up and ready to try again. She pushed gently forward, stretching my pussy and causing me some pain, but stopped when she saw me wince again. It wasn’t the lube, it was the size. Rawhide was just more cock than I could easily handle.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she apologised. “I have to push a little or it won’t go in at all.”

“Just use the tip,” I suggested. “Slowly though.”

She withdrew, but Rawhide not being her own cock, she couldn’t tell when to stop, and as it popped free it sprang back and slapped wetly against her belly. We were watching each other’s eyes. I held focus for a moment, but then I saw a smile curl at the corners of her mouth and we both burst into laughter at the same time. I reached down and repositioned the thick shaft at my entrance. With mock seriousness, I glared at her and said, “Now you be careful, young lady. You could take an eye out with that thing.” We giggled some more, breasts bouncing pleasurably against each other.

Rupali set back to work, finding her perfect length and learning how to wield this wonderful weapon. She established a slow rhythm, withdrawing almost to the tip and then driving back in powerfully, but only to the point of resistance and no further. With each stroke I loosened a little, allowing her further access. Her superior height brought her breasts all the way to my chin, and I took the opportunity to taste them, like low hanging fruit, licking and sucking one nipple to a hard point, and then repeating with the other.

Rawhide is thicker at the base than at the tip, so by the time she touched down she’d stretched my pussy so wide that the thick shaft was in constant contact with my buzzing clitoris. Oh no! I was going to come too early!

I lifted my ankles up over her shoulders to change the angle of entry, and to give her cock—for that is how I had come to think of it—the deepest possible access. I looked up into her eyes, frantic and pleading. “Finish me.”

And she did. In a fluid movement, she withdrew all the way and rammed her thick cock home, punching out a shockwave of pleasure as her pubis slammed into mine. Again and again she pounded me, each stroke setting off a larger explosion as our bodies crashed, the waves of ecstasy overlapping and building to a shattering orgasm. I called up a mental image of her coming from this beautiful cock, emptying her load into me, filling me so completely that cum sprayed out around her pounding shaft, soaking my thighs.

I erupted. Pushing down with my heels on Rupali’s shoulders, I lifted my bottom and pushed Rawhide up against her, grinding the inner shaft against her clitoris. Still pumping into me, she pushed back, and I felt her body stiffen and convulse with her own climax. I dropped my legs back down and held her tight, deep inside me still, pressing our bodies together as the last spasms contracted our muscles.

We rolled onto our sides and held each other that way, neither wanting to be the first to break contact, until finally after ten minutes, I heard her breathing deepen into sleep and pulled the inner dildo gently out of her pussy.

When I came back after washing and returning Rawhide to the toy box, Rupali was still in my bed. I slid in beside her and folded into her naked embrace like a Russian doll. One hand slid up to cup my breast and I heard her whisper in my ear, “Thank you. I love you.”

Boarding school just got a lot more interesting.

Copyright 2017, Belinda LaPage. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

About the Author Belinda LaPage

Belinda LaPage lives and works in Sydney, Australia. Writing is a labour of love for her, but the life of a tortured artist is not, so for now it is simply a part time affair, and a pathway to affording more of the wrong shoes. She enjoys the Sydney beaches, time with friends, and spending lunch time in a café sneakily writing erotica in the midst of strangers.

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