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The Most Beautiful Thing I've Ever Seen

Posted by: Author: Age: 25 Posted on: 0 comments
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The names have been changed to protect the innocent. I apologise for the length of this piece. It is an intensely personal story. It is true for the most part, although rendered in a more literary form. I love reading the stories on this site, and I hope that some of you will enjoy mine.


I have known Wendy for years. We had gone to school together. She was shy. I fell in love with her at school, but it was not to be for a number of reasons... She was a very fundamentalist non-denominational Christian, I was rather Catholic... and as we all know... never the twain shall meet.

At school I loved (well... truth be told, I still love) her. She was shy, she had long brown hair that reached right down her back, a soft spoken drawl, and a voice which was warm and resonant rather than high pitched and girly. Always in ankle length skirts, conservative dress, obsessed with horses... One year my family paid a visit to their family farm in the USA. It was a good time that I look back on in pleasure. Admittedly we only stayed a few days before we moved on to our next holiday destination, however I enjoyed it. It was rural, wholesome... And I got to spend time with Ann, pulling up loco-weed (this plant which, while pretty, contained high levels of selenium and if the horses ate it they would go crazy because of selenium toxicity), getting hot and sweaty in the sun.

I loved her figure. She wasn't small. She was a larger woman, not fat in the belly, but larger. The school I attended was populated, largely, by south-east Asians (which was not all that surprising. The pair of us were going to school in south-east Asia...). I wasn't skinny and neither was she, at least not waif-like in the way the rest of my schoolmates/classmates were. I hated my body. But I loved hers. She had a big effect on the kind of women I have since come to desire. She had broad hips and a rounded back-side (as someone described to me once, 'a back-side you could park a bike between') around 24 inches wide which was actually surprisingly muscular. Her breasts were easily a D cup... I found out more recently she had/has 32 DD's. And sometimes after P.E. (when the sweat had chilled her slightly) one could tell that she had nipples about the size of a finger-tip surrounded by a broad areola. And she had alabaster skin, which was often (unfortunately) blemished by those spots which come with adolescence.

I often felt sorry for her. She was often ridiculed by other people at school. She did not see the point in shaving or waxing (something I respected) however she had a fair amount of body hair including a hairy upper lip which people talked about behind her back. She was (and is to me) a damaged angel, or perhaps the person for whom my torch is never undimmed.

I kissed her once... and she objected. I cursed myself for years over that. I had let my hormones take control, and sadly she had not. Anyway, that is another story. My story (having now set the scene somewhat) takes place more recently than High School. She had moved to one of the northern states to go to college, and we drifted. I had hardly spoken to her in years (aside from the odd ping-type email... you know 'Are you still alive... how are you going'). All of a sudden she was on Facebook. Which was awesome. And so we got talking properly once again.

She had never been one to use modern communications media effectively. A few late night chats from across the globe (I was in Australia now, in the throes of relationship problems and my degrees) and we became much closer as friends. The two of us were now older and wiser. And I was shocked to discover that she was getting engaged. All of a sudden she dropped off the face of the planet once again.

About 12 months later she popped up again. The story was one of woe. She had gone on holiday to see her parents, and come back a month later to find that her fiancé had moved out and shacked up with some other woman and they were having a baby... And she had then fallen in love with another guy who lived with her over the harsh winter in the northern states. She had fallen in love with him, and he had then left her as well, claiming that it was God's Will (they were both members of the same church) and that God was going to send her another better man.

(Privately, I scoffed at this. However Wendy, with much conviction said 'You wouldn't believe me, but I got assurances, from Above.' Personally, I was furious at the two of these men for treating someone who was so dear to me in such a horrid manner, and I figured that both of them were thinking with their cocks, and not with their hearts or the eyes of faith.)

After much dancing around the issue, it came out that she was no longer a virgin. She had been too interested to find out what it was like with the first guy (who apparently was rubbish in bed). And then, figuring that she had nothing to lose, with the second guy, discovered bliss. She lived in her head... So many issues. As we talked it became obvious to me that she was a highly sexual woman, no longer the girl I had known in my schooling. It had also come up that she had a medical condition, which explained a large number of things about her. Her voice (which was quite low), the body hair, the weight, the acne... I did a little research... and discovered that there were probably a few more things that were probably 'under the bonnet' so to say.

Anyway it was coming up for the 10 year reunion, and so my class was going to get back together at the old school. It was going to be something of a task to achieve considering that the school was in SE Asia and most of the classmates were on two other continents. Wendy had always been a 'member' of our class even though she ended up changing schools right at the end of high school. I will not bore you with the details of meeting up with the various other successful/unsuccessful members of that class.

Anyhow after meeting them all, and socialising, I gravitated to Wendy who I had not seen since 2003/4 when the two of us had been in the same place at the same time. She had not found anyone since boyfriend number two. I had been through three stormy and messy relationships. And so I said to her that (as I had often promised) I would take her out and we would paint the town red. So we did. We had a wonderful time. Wandering the old haunts, having a meal, and eventually, night was closing and we were closer to my hotel than to hers, I offered her to come up with me. She was reluctant but I was persistent and a gentleman. And there was a moment. I looked her in the eyes and the spark was there.

I kissed her. I held her to myself, one hand on her back, one just above her buttocks, I smelled her, the intoxicating scent of someone that you love. And I told her that I loved her. And she hesitated. I could see the clouds in her mind. The debate, I could almost hear it 'He is a Catholic. It can never work. but... but...' and then the issue resolved itself... she kissed me back, this time with vigour. Her mouth open, her tongue probing mine.

I do not know how we made it to the elevator without being arrested for indecent behaviour. I was like a kid in a candy store, copping a feel, seeing if I could touch her inappropriately in public. She was coy, but laughing. Once we were in the elevator, it was a long way up. However there were cameras... so nothing happened. At my room however, it was a different matter. Barely had we passed the door, and we were kissing again... with passion... my hands roaming. There was no resistance.

She was flushed and gasping, hot, her eyes were like saucers. I had already unhooked her bra, and I think her skirt had slipped around her ankles. I had fully responded. My member was pressed flush against her mound, harder than I believe it had ever been. I could feel the heat of her sex. It was intoxicating. And all of a sudden... we were naked.

I was suddenly stunned. The girl I had fallen in love with in Grade 9, the woman now, was standing there. Suddenly she seemed ashamed. She was covering herself her hand over her pussy. I was overcome with a wave of amazement at her, she was everything I had dreamed her to be (true there were one or two stretch marks, but then I had them too, she was a little heavier that at school, but there in her naked glory were the most beautiful breasts crested with strawberry-like jubes, the roundest ass, and the palest alabaster skin). I held her close. My rigid member pressing against her hand.

'You are beautiful. I love you, Just as you are.' and she relaxed.

I slowly kissed my way down, her neck, her breasts. Suckling on her pinky-red nipples, filling my mouth with them she let out a little moan, 'Bite them'. And so... I did, gently, then harder, and suddenly... she came, in deep, guttural grunts, thrusting against the air. I have never seen someone cum so quickly from nipples alone. And then we were on my bed.

My hand covered hers, over her mound. 'Show me.'

Slowly she withdrew her hand. 'My last boyfriend avoided looking down there...'

I looked.

And I was greeted with the most beautiful surprise. My prediction had been correct. I had asked her previously if she ever touched herself and she swore black and blue that she didn't, and that she only needed to imagine to get satisfaction. I could suddenly see why. And I did not need to imagine.

Before me was the most beautiful pussy I have ever seen. Tufted (surprisingly sparsely) with pale brown curls. Longish, thick labia, petal like, glistening with arousal. And in pride of place, standing like an obelisk of womanhood, unsheathed, was a clitoris. A beautiful, large, clit. It protruded, throbbing, easily an inch and a half long, and thick as my index finger.

'Oh my God. That is THE most beautiful pussy I have ever seen'

'Don't call it that... call it a Cunt'

I loved it. Here was this puritan whom I was madly in love with talking dirty. Here I was... kneeling, with my face before the Idol. Begging to offer it sacrifice.

And then I probed her, one finger, two ... three. I could have probably gotten four in she was so lubricated, muscular, tight yet flexible.. Rubbing her clit with my thumb, I pressed upwards targeting her G-spot. I rubbed her around her urethra...

She had gone silent... however I could tell, this was silence with ecstasy. It was like sensing the rumble of the earth as a Geyser prepares to erupt... an increasing moan, and what felt like an body's earthquake. Suddenly I was hit on the face and chest with something which resembled semen. It was paler, but as smooth, and slightly sticky. It almost smelled of roses. I had seen women squirt before, but this was strange and beautiful. I could have just about cum right then. I had been leaking precum in dribbles onto the floor.

She was still shuddering her thighs had clamped tight around my hand, and she was thrusting, grinding her cunt into my palm her ass lifting off the bed, and she, in ecstasy.

As the throes of her passion subsided, she relaxed, and I lay next to her, stroking her.

'That is the most erotic thing I have ever seen.'

I wiped her cum off my chest with a finger or two and tasted it. Salty yet sweet. Musky. I played with it a little. Rubbed it in to my chest.

I was gently playing with myself. The veins were almost bursting out of my penis. The shaft glistened with precum which was oozing, lubricating, glazing my shaft and foreskin, leaving my mushroom-like head half exposed.

I think that finally, she looked, I do not know how she had managed to avert her eyes before however modesty had some how managed to prevent her seeing my much engorged member. I could tell she hadn't looked before, because suddenly she balked, surprised.

'Wow. What, seriously? That is huge'

I had never thought I was huge. I had always been somewhat dwarfed by a friend of mine who had (I swear, and I have witnesses who used a tape-measure to prove it) an 8.75' dong (Which I am pretty sure was told of in fable and in song to scare small children in third world countries).

'I'm not that big.' It was apparent that she did not believe me. 'I'm shade above average' (Honest: I am just over 7).

I don't think she cared. at this point animal lust had taken over.

Then she was stroking, long, slippery, slow strokes... Cupping my testicles. Playing with them. Faster, then slower... faster then slower. My God... this woman had either a natural knack, or she'd been practicing. I had not cum in a few days. Mainly because of the stress of getting ready for the reunion, the flights, unpacking etc etc. I suddenly knew that there was a lot of cum building up.

I withdrew her hand. 'I don't want to cum yet... '

'I want you to.' she looked at me, right in the eye. Somehow, the animal lust had taken over. In the throes of my masturbation of her rigid clit (which I could see she was already touching gently again) It was like I was worshipping some deeper power, idolatry almost. I could see that same intensity in her eyes. The desire to worship, to receive worship... I stood up. My cock was twitching. Dribbling. Semen was already mingled with the fluid clouding my precum.

She knew what to do. She was on her knees. My cock right before her face. Staring hungrily she then wrapped both hands around my shaft like hands almost grasped in prayer she began pumping my cock... I tensed. I tightened. It was going to hit and I knew it. And so did she. She looked straight into my eyes, and there was that connection. Then it was too much and I grunted, and groaned as the force of orgasm and ejaculation coursed through me.

I could see her suddenly make a half shocked look, which was suddenly replaced by what can only be called an almost blissful one as contraction after contraction spilled my offering onto her face and mouth. I was spent.

We got onto the bed and cuddled and kissed. I could taste myself and there was that stirring again... but that is another story. I would love to tell it but I cannot... not here.

Suffice it to say, the words of the ancient (slightly amended) marriage vows were carried out that night, the next morning, and even into the late afternoon of the following day ... 'With my body I thee worship (in every which-way possible)'

I would love to say there is a happy ending to this story of bliss. However, sadly. Despite us being so right for each other in so many ways, the theological divide is too much. Her parents would have never accepted it, and I honestly believe, she would have been miserable without their blessing. We parted happily, and we are still close friends. however nothing remotely like that has happened again.

I still love her and probably always will.



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