by Desconhecido
In turn, Rapunzel asked that Maria teach her the ways of loving another woman, and Maria took her time giving detailed instruction. She was only too happy to demonstrate the technique again and again, and Rapunzel was an apt student who practiced often.
There were nights when Maria would sneak into the tower to make love to Rapunzel, and afterward she would talk of life beyond Sapphica.
“Help me escape,” Rapunzel said to Maria one night.
“I could never do that,” Maria replied. “Not only would I risk the wrath of the queen, but I would be doing myself an injustice, for I would never see you again.”
Rapunzel was heartbroken when she realized Maria cared more for herself than she did for Rapunzel’s happiness, so Rapunzel bade Maria to never return to the tower again.
And so it was that a new servant was put in charge of delivering Rapunzel’s meals, and though she was quite pleasant to talk to, she was not much for the eyes, and so Rapunzel would not engage in lovemaking with her.
The years swept by. Rapunzel spent much of her days brushing her golden hair, which she refused to cut. She even brushed her pubic hairs, which grew at half the rate of the hair on her head. As she brushed her flaxen locks, she fantasized about a life far away from Sapphica.
There were other ways Rapunzel passed her time as well. Self pleasure was chief among them. She had learned over the years, primarily during her time with Maria, how to bring herself to climax in many ways.
One of her favorite ways to masturbate was with the leg of a small wooden chair. The end of it was shaped in a way that reminded her of the male organ, although she only knew of the male organ through descriptions and crude drawings Maria had given her. Still, the wooden chair leg pleasured it immensely.
Now when Rapunzel pleasured herself, which was often, she would moan, and her moans were like a melodious symphony. Unbeknownst to the queen, the gentle sounds of her pleasure were carried on the wings of the wind, far into Heteroland, and they were heard by a young man named Devon Devonshire.
Devon could not resist the sweet call of Rapunzel. One day he followed her soft moans and gentle sighs until he stood at the foot of the tower.
“Hey,” he called out, and then the moaning stopped, but for some time after there was nothing but silence. “Is anyone up there?” he called, and then Rapunzel peered from the window of the tower, looking down upon a real man for the first time in her life.
Devon was a fine, strapping young man, just one year older than Rapunzel’s nineteen years. Rapunzel told him to go away lest the queen catch him and have him punished in the worst way.
Devon left, but the very next night, when once again he was drawn by the sweet, musical sounds of Rapunzel at the height of her pleasure, he returned. Rapunzel again begged him to leave, and so this went on for years. Rapunzel would bring herself to climax and Devon would arrive at the foot of the tower, only to be chased away by Rapunzel.
When Rapunzel was in her twenty-seventh year, Devon appeared once again at the foot of the tower. “Rapunzel, let down your hair,” he called up to her, for he knew she had refused to cut her flowing blonde locks for all the years of her life.
“Please,” Rapunzel begged, “go away and do not return.”
But Devon Devonshire would not go away. He called up to her again, “Rapunzel, let down your hair.”
This time Rapunzel, now driven nearly mad with her lust for this young man, slowly lowered her long hair to the foot of the tower. Devon grabbed hold of Rapunzel’s flaxen locks and began his long climb to where she had been held captive for so many years.
Devon drew himself over the ledge of the tower window and fell into the room, breathing quite heavily from the climb. He stood slowly, his eyes wide in surprise as he took in the sight before him.
The room was quite literally filled with mounds of silken blonde hair. Rapunzel could just barely be seen beyond the curly forest of her pubic bush. The hair on her head lay spread about her now, covering the entire stone floor of Rapunzel’s tower room.
Devon wasted no time getting naked. His cock stood thick and hard, jutting from his belly at a forty-five degree angle. The head of it was purple and throbbing. A tiny glistening drop of semen dribbled from the tip. He had waited so long, and now, with the object of his desire so close, Devon was not going to be kept from Rapunzel any longer.
He dove between her legs and began working his way through the thick, silky curls of her pussy. He could smell the rich, excited scent of her. He caught the scent like a bloodhound and let his nose be his guide. When at last he reached the gaping wet entrance of her pussy, Devon slipped his hands beneath Rapunzel’s ass and brought her to his face, pressing his tongue between her slippery folds, driving it deep into her pussy.
“Oh yes,” Rapunzel said, gasping. “Ohhhhhh…”
She locked her thighs around his head and began to bounce, fucking herself against his face, riding his tongue in a mad rush to reach her climax. She screamed as waves of pleasure washed over her like none she’d felt before.
The two lovers continued to go at it. Rapunzel took Devon ’s cock in her mouth and sucked it. She choked herself at first, but soon she had he knack for it, and as she massaged his heavy family jewels with one hand, she stroked his thick shaft with the other, all the while allowing her tongue to dance around the plum-shaped head until Devon could hold back no longer.
He let loose in her mouth with a flood of cum so thick and sticky that Rapunzel was caught unawares. Some of it escaped her mouth and dribbled from her chin, but after swallowing as much as she could, she greedily licked her lips and ran her tongue over her wet chin.
They made love with unrestrained passion then, with Rapunzel riding atop Devon, her large breasts dangling in his face. He caught her plump, pale nipples in his mouth one at a time, working each with his tongue, using his teeth to nip at them, and then he pushed her fleshy breasts together and worked them at once.
Again the couple reached climax, this time nearly together, and Devon rolled Rapunzel onto her back and pounded into her like a man who has lost his mind.
When it was over, Devon insisted Rapunzel go with him to Heteroland. He produced a small knife from his trouser pocket and told her he would need to cut her hair so that they could use it to climb out of the tower, and with some regret, Rapunzel agreed.
Devon cut her hair and tied off one end, then he pitched the golden locks out the tower window and climbed down to the ground. He stood at the bottom of the tower, watching as Rapunzel came down next, though he could see nothing but the thick blonde bush between her legs.
When Rapunzel finally reached the ground, she and Devon embraced and shared a long, deep kiss. It was then that the queen appeared. She had with her several of her strongest women.
Devon took Rapunzel by the hand and they ran off. The queen’s soldiers gave chase, but Devon knew many shortcuts between Heteroland and Sapphica. The couple eventually eluded the queen’s soldiers, but just as they were about to cross into Heteroland, Devon ’s ankles became tangled in Rapunzel’s long pubic hairs. He lost his balance and tumbled headlong over a dangerous precipice, bouncing like a heavy sack of potatoes against the jagged edges of the rock face.
Rapunzel fell to her knees and cried. She leaned over the edge of the cliff and saw that Devon ’s body lay at odd angles. She called to him to no avail. Her lover was gone, she knew with every beat of her heart, and now she could never forgive herself for this misfortune.
She stood on the edge of the cliff, her arms spread like the wings of a dove, and slowly she leaned forward until she could feel the wind on her face, blowing through the now-shortened locks of her hair, and she called Devon ’s name just before she reunited with him…
Road Trippin’
1969.
There was groovy shit happening all over the country.
Everywhere, it seemed, except in the small Ohio town where Valerie was living out her youth in oblivion.
Valerie was all of ninetee
n years old, a slip of a girl with long brown hair, soft brown eyes, and not more than a handful of tits. The local boys loved her, but she had bigger plans for herself than to be barefoot and pregnant for some schmuck with a minimum wage job and no future.
Valerie wanted to see the world.
She hooked up with a twenty-five year old dude named Larry. He was a drag for the most part, but he did have a rusty 1964 VW bus, a folk guitar, plenty of grass, and even some LSD.
Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.
Love to Suck Dick.
To Valerie, LSD stood for Love Some Day.
But not with Larry. When Valerie fell in love, it would be with someone who could teach her the meaning of life. It would be with somebody who could bring her something deep.
In the meantime, though, there was Larry, a tall skinny guy with long brown hair worn back in a ponytail, and a thick moustache that tickled Valerie’s pussy whenever he went down on her.
Larry knew about this place California. Some sort of movie ranch where a bunch of hippies lived together in harmony. Free sex, free drugs, and freedom from the restraints The Man laid on the average citizen on a daily basis.
It sounded like a real righteous gig, so Valerie went along for the ride.
Their first day on the road was uneventful. Valerie got high on the primo grass supplied by Larry and played with the radio dial, singing along whenever a good song came on. She wore cutoffs and a tan halter. She’d taken off her sandals and kept her bare feet propped up on the dashboard.
Larry went on and on about the movie ranch. “No rules, no heavy trips, just sex, drugs, rock ’n’ roll, and more than even more sex.”
“Sounds groovy,” Valerie said, taking another hit from her joint.
Larry glanced at her bare legs. His eyes traveled up and settled on the crotch of her blue jean shorts. They were tight. The seam pressed into her slit, causing her pussy lips to bulge on either side.
“Play with yourself,” he said.
“You should pay attention to the road,” Valerie replied.
She really didn’t feel like playing with herself, but she knew she would end up doing it anyway. It was what Larry wanted, and for right now, he was her ticket away from Ohio. If she had to play with her pussy to keep him interested, then she would play with her pussy.
“Come on, do it,” he insisted.
She shrugged and dropped her feet from the dash. She raised her ass off the seat and slid her shorts down and off, then she put her feet on the dash again, bending her knees slightly and opening her legs wide. Her pubic hair was thick and dark, and even with her legs wide open, Larry could barely make out the dark pink folds of vulva hidden beneath the thick curls.
Valerie dropped her hand between her legs stroked her pussy in a lazy fashion, working her fingers through her dark forest of curls in search of her clit. Her eyes were half mast as she manipulated herself with an air of slight disinterest.
She used to fingers to separate the lips of her pussy, giving Larry an unobstructed view of her red, glistening vulva. She circled her hard, swollen clit with the tip of one finger, then she went lower, curling her finger and pushing it deep inside her pussy.
Despite her initial lack of interest, Valerie found herself responding to her probing finger. She added two more fingers and pushed all three deep into her pussy, then she began to grind herself down on them, pressing her thumb against her clit for even more stimulation.
Larry had a hard time keeping the VW on the road.
Valerie came, gasping and moaning as she pumped her fingers into her pussy, and when it was over, she put her shorts back on and casually rolled a joint.
“Far out,” Larry said.
Valerie shrugged. “If you say so.”
She lit the joint and sucked hard on it, drawing smoke deep inside her lungs.
“Where’s the acid?” she asked, passing the joint to Larry.
“In back, behind the panel with the smiley face on it,” he told her, grinning as if it were the most clever hiding spot in the world. “And there’s a jug of wine back there somewhere.”
Valerie’s cutoffs rode up to expose the smooth lower halves of her ass cheeks as she climbed into the back of the bus.
“Groovy,” Larry said, smacking her on the bottom.
“Watch the road, Larry,” she said, barely able to hide her irritation.
She knelt in front of the panel and pulled it loose, then she reached in and came out with a small baggie of tablets. She replaced the panel, found the jug of wine, and climbed back into the front seat.
Larry found a turn-off onto a narrow dirt road. He followed the road deep into a field of corn and parked. They climbed out of the bus, wine and drugs in tow.
“You sure this is cool?” Valerie asked, looking around. “What if, like, some farmer decides to shoot us for trespassing?”
“We’re cool,” Larry said with confidence. “The owner of this shit probably lives a hundred miles from here.”
Valerie took Larry’s word for it. She sat indian-style on the ground between two rows of corn and opened the jug of wine. Larry sat across from her. They took some of the LSD and passed the wine back and forth.
Twenty minutes later they were flying… and Larry was being chased by a giant vagina.
“Groovy,” he heard himself say, but he kept running, glancing back now and then to see the hairy outer lips of the giant pussy open and the inner pink folds flap like giant wings.
Valerie was lost in strawberry fields forever, naked and rolling around among the massive fruit. She straddled a large specimen and rode it, rubbing her pussy against its rough exterior until sticky red juice mingled with her own sweet nectar.
Huge butterflies with dazzling, colorful wings hovered overhead.
“Far out,” Valerie said.
She smeared strawberry juice around her tiny, hard nipples.
Meanwhile, Larry had given up on escape and now lay back to let the monster vagina take him. The massive pink lips opened wide and closed around him, drawing him deep into the slick, pulsating darkness…
… that surrounded both of them now.
Several hours had elapsed.
“Wow, that was some trip,” Valerie said.
“Dig it,” Larry said.
He stood up, brushed himself off, and extended his hand to Valerie. She took it and allowed him to help her up. The wine jug lay on its side, completely empty. Beside it lay the plastic baggie containing what was left of the acid. Larry picked up the baggie and shoved it into his pocket.
They got back on the road and remained quiet for a long while, each of them basking in the residual effect of the LSD. Valerie was the first to speak up. “How long before we get to the ranch?”
“Guess it depends on how many more side trips we take,” Larry answered.
“Oh,” Valerie said, turning her gaze out the window.
“You ever been away from home?”
“Nope,” she said. “Not far, I mean. My parents took me to see my grandmother when I was younger. That was out of Ohio, but I hardly remember.”
He nodded emphatically, as if her answer held a deep truth he fully understood. “I was a little younger than you when I first hit the road,” he said.
Valerie started rolling a joint, listening to him without really paying attention. Sometimes she hated to hear him talk. He was one of those guys who never knew when to shut up, and sometimes Valerie just wanted to be inside her own head.
She lit the joint. Larry was still babbling. He didn’t even realize she wasn’t listening. She found that an occasional nod or a well-placed half-laugh was enough to keep him happy.
“I’ve always been an outcast,” he droned on. “A real rebel, you dig?”
Valerie propped her feet on the dash and sank down in the seat as she smoked the joint. It was maybe half an hour later when Larry decided he was too tired to drive any further. He pulled into a roadside park, shut the engine off, and got out to take a leak.
Valerie climbed into the back of the VW, found a blanket, and lay down to go to sleep. She was almost out of it when Larry lifted her blanket and crawled in beside her. She felt his hard cock pressing against her bottom.
“You awake?” he asked.
She didn’t say anything, hoping he would leave her alone. She wasn’t in the mood to fuck. A moment passed. Larry sighed and rolled over. She heard his zipper slide down, then the rhythmic slap of his hand on his cock.
She closed her eyes and drifted to sleep.
* * * *
They had breakfast at a greasy spoon the next morning, then hit the road again. Larry started talking about Woodstock, claiming he’d been right up front through the whole thing. Valerie played with the radio dial. She came across Honky Tonk Woman by the Stones and turned it up.
“I met a gentle barroom queen in Memphis…” Larry sang over the radio.
“Gin- soaked,” Valerie said matter-of-factly.
“Huh?”
“He sings gin-soaked, not gentle,” she said.
“Oh.”
He started singing again but stopped suddenly. “Check it out,” he said, pointing out the front window.
A blonde wearing a short dress and knee-high boots stood on the shoulder of the highway with her thumb stuck out and a duffel bag at her feet.
“Let’s give her a lift,” Larry said.
He pulled onto the shoulder fifty yards or so ahead of the girl. She picked up her duffel bag and ran after the bus, out of breath when she reached it.
“Hop in,” Valerie said, jabbing her thumb at the side door.
The blonde tossed her duffel bag into the bus and climbed in. “You guys are righteous,” she said, pulling the door shut.
“No problem,” Larry said.
He pulled back onto the highway. The blonde leaned up between the seats. “My name’s Suzanne,” she said.
