Clitoral Alchemy

a quickie by Dan Standing

 

There it is. The glittering little nub. Well, not little. It’s as wide as one of my fingers, and pokes about half an inch beyond my labia. Anytime I sit or walk with my thighs rubbing it my pussy is just soaked, and I need a serious cum.

Let me just say, if you are a drunken sorority girl in need of quick cash, don’t mockingly pray to Bacchus. I know he’s the one that made my clit so big, so sensitive, turned it to gold, and gave it a very selective Midas Touch.

How selective?

Well, I can’t wear any underwear, or go commando in pants. If my clit touches either of those things they turn to gold. Auric panties are heavy and uncomfortable. I constantly have to wear a skirt – with crotchless panties my only choice.

Any sex toy that touches it turns to gold. I have a row of yellow metal dildos. Not that they do me any good – only I see them as gold. I had an appraiser tell me that I must have cast it from aluminum with a foil coating – he insisted it wasn’t real gold. I took it to a scrape metal buyer who said it was painted resin.

I think it’s just one more joke from Bacchus.

I’ve taken a few lovers – male and female – since this happened. They can touch my clit, lick it, fuck me, and get me off just fine.

They just don’t want to cum while touching it.

This has happened twice, and I have two glittering “sex dolls” – as my flatmate sees them – adorning my room.

The first was Freddie, a footballer I picked up at one of the Greek parties. He’d been pumping me real well, one of his hands gripping my tits while the thumb of his other hand rounded my metal nub. Just as I was getting close Freddie announced he was gonna finish. I felt him burst inside me, then he stopped moving.

When I looked up over my sweating sex pillows I just caught the top of his hair turning to gold. At first I was a little panicked, not certain how much trouble I would get in. But, just as no one sees him as gold, no one believes he used to be a real guy.

They just think I’m a pervert for having such an antomically correct decoration.

But he does have a real nice cock, and many a night I’ll lay back, wrap my legs around him, and pull myself over his stiff golden dick. I’m sure he’s still aware, and I’m even more certain he appreciates my occasional tryst with him. His hand is still perfectly positioned for my own metal anatomy to move against.

After Freddie I avoided hetero sex for a little while. There were plenty of girls on campus interested in a little experimentation, and I figured they were a lower risk.

The most eager was Nikki, a softball player whose tits were much too large for someone with her physical tone. She was as skilled with her tongue as she was with a bat, and I would find myself cumming over and over with her kneeled at the edge of my bed.

I had no idea that she was often playing with herself while tonguing me. One day, while I was just starting to crest at an amazing orgasm, Nikki beat me to it. I could immediately feel her soft cheeks stiffen up between my thighs.

I looked down and watched the golden frost take her ass, wipe down her legs, and still her clenching toes. She’d maneuvered her tongue especially far into me that day, and I’m not ashamed to say I grabbed her metal head and finished myself off against her frozen face. The expression captured on Nikki, a mix of pure pleasure but retained need, turns me on every time I look to that corner of my room.

More than once I’ve rolled my desk chair over to enjoy her tongue once more.

Right now those are the only two who have succumbed to my clitoral alchemy. Through the rest of college I tried to be careful. Now I’m a struggling artist looking to make a name for herself. I’m thinking of going into the business of lifelike erotic sculptures.

Anyone care to volunteer? We’ll be working very closely. I guarantee it’s a good time.

FIN