Sweet Treats

She lifted both arms up over her head, pulling her breasts into a deeper cleavage, revealing, ohh, fuck, fuck, fuck, displaying the two hairy cunts of her armpits. Each hollow had three twisted runs of glossy black hair, coiled and entwined, shadowing the skin underneath. I couldn't stop for thought. I leaned down to place my open mouth on a hollow of hair, sucking as much of her flesh into my mouth as I could.

Her taste was pungent and strong, slightly acrid, somewhat metallic; an after-taste that I savoured like the best wine. A red, rich and fruity, with a little hint of cherry. Not cherry, aniseed. Aniseed and liquorice. The sweat of her body, the taste of her skin, the smell of her. Her whole bouquet was on my tongue.

"The other side, too," she said, softly, and I realised that one arm was up for my mouth, but she was holding my head with her other hand, holding me against her body. Her hand - and I flashed on her long fingers and brightly painted nails laced through my hair in the softest caress - her hand was to hold me. "Eat me there. You must taste everything."

"Your taste..." I began.

"Sshhh," she replied. "Just eat. My flesh is for you to eat. Don't worry, sir, I am hungry too. I will eat you, taste your skin. You will be my sweet treat, you'll see."

Sweet fuck, she'd invited me home to her body, to taste her skin and to smell her. My fingers, I had to touch her. With my mouth hungry in her other armpit, I reached both hands behind her back, to find the catch of her bra.

"It is a bit tricky," she whispered, hot breath close to my ear. "Two hands, you see, and a twist."

The thin strap separated, and I ran my fingers down her naked back, feeling her ribs and the knuckles of her spine. The money fell to the floor as the bra came off. She shivered as I found a sensitive spot of soft skin just inside her hip. She sighed, and pushed her jeans covered crotch against me.

"You, sir. Let me take your shirt off you now." She repeated my sequence, undoing the buttons of my shirt, pulling the tails up from the waist of my jeans, pushing it away from my shoulders, and it too fell to the floor. She pushed me back an arm's length and ran her fingers through the black curls on my chest, following the dark line of hair down my belly, from my navel to where it disappeared into the waistband of my jeans.

She looked up at me, into my eyes, and went to undo my belt and top button. She laughed. "It's tricky too. You do it, but leave the zip for me...

"Come here," she said, and cupped the hollow of one arm pit with her mouth. It had been a hot day, and I could smell the tang of my sweat. She didn't care, and sucked my hollow just as I'd eaten hers, tasting my body, licking the sweat away.

She looked into my eyes with a serious look, and we shared my smell in a kiss. I was used to the lighter scent of a woman's lips, sometimes the smoky kiss of an occasional cigarette, but this taste was darker, male pheromones in my mouth. I fucked her mouth with my tongue, so she'd fuck me back, taking me with my man's scent, while it lasted.

"Fuuuck, you taste good," I moaned, tasting myself from her lips. Tasting her.

"You want me sweaty?" she asked. "Next time, tell me when you're coming to see me, and I won't wash for two days." She grinned, with her lovely white teeth, and her lips plumper, fuller, from our hungry, sucking kiss. Ohh, sweet fuck, what a promise. "I will be filthy and stinky and need a wash. You will prefer that, I expect. You can lick me all over."

Fuck, fuck, fuck, and I've been nowhere near her ass hole and her cunt yet! My nipples ached, hard and tight, and my prick, still sheathed in denim, ached for release.

"Carry me through to my room." Ahh yes, she was playing brides, with her tight jeans, firm juicy tits and beautiful hair. And a sweet tight cunt that I didn't know about yet. I was going to fuck this thin, hairy girl so hard I was going to hurt and ache, and I didn't know if I'd satisfy her. I wanted to be sheathed deep inside her.

I carried her down the short corridor, her arms clinging tight around my neck. In her room, I placed her down on the end of the bed.

"Stand there," she said, and pointed to the centre of a small Persian rug. "Don't move."

She knelt before me, coquettishly looking up at me with wide eyes. She held my gaze for a long moment, then bent to undo my shoe laces and take off my shoes. She rubbed her hands over the soles of my feet, massaging them with surprisingly strong fingers. Looking up at me again with a supplicant's eyes, she slowly ran her hands up my legs, up my thighs, over the bulge of my cock. I was aching to be released, my cock straining under the tight denim jeans.

She eased my fly down and slowly pulled aside the separate sides of cloth. My cock was still restrained by my underwear, but she pressed the palm of her hand along the shaft, feeling its heat. With both hands she grasped the waist of the pants and my jockey shorts, and pulled them in one smooth movement down my legs. My cock sprung erect from its prison, thickening immediately into its full length.

"Oh my goodness, sir. I wanted a big cock, and here it is, bobbing up into my hands." She stretched her fingers along it, measuring my prideful cock.

"Do you want my big prick?" I asked, wanting to hear what she would say in that sing song voice of hers, craving her awe, indulging my ego. Men are stupid about their cocks, and to hear her very precise words about its size would feed my vanity. There's no point pretending I don't have a good sized cock. It would fill her little cunt, that's for sure.

"Ooo yes, sir, you will fill me right up and make me pray, when you fuck. I prefer to be fucked very hard, you see, and I think this lingam will do it nicely."

She was a good girl, knowing exactly what to say. I have a cock, but I didn't expect a lingam. It sounded like a delectable fruit, something exotic, far more interesting than a prick. Lingam. It even sounded long, rolling off my tongue. Lingam; yes, I liked the sound of that, describing me.

She knelt lower and licked my tight balls as she pressed my prick up against my gut. Rising, she tongued all up the shaft, swirling along both sides, and at the same time she cupped the tight sacs of my testes. I could feel the sharp tips of her finger nails as she curled them right around. Her fingers were like a small cage.

"You have a very beautiful cock, sir. It is straight and firm, and I want it. It is a worthy fuck cock, sir."

She stood, and turned her back against me, pushing her spine against my shaft. She shifted from side to side, grinding against me. From this angle, looking down, her tits seemed smaller, and nearly all nipple. But when I looked straight ahead, I saw us in a wide mirror on the wall, and her breasts looked bigger. She saw my reflection gazing at the sight of us, me fully naked, a skinny dark skinned girl in front of me, still clad in tight jeans. I stared, entranced. Who was this man with her?

She placed both my hands on her breasts, then took the veil of hair and hid her torso from sight. I looked down, and all I saw was the glossy black fall of her hair. Inside the shroud, she slowly swayed against my heat. All this hair! I wanted it all around me. She must have heard my thought, for she twisted her hair into a rope and placed it up around my neck, where it fell back down to her breasts. She'd bound me to her in a simple twist of hair. I'd worship the little wolf, this hairy girl. I couldn't wait for my blood to rise.

Underneath her fall of darkness, she unzipped her own jeans, stepping forward so I could see. She shimmied her firm little ass side to side, wriggling to pull the tight legs down. I watched in the mirror as she bent to pull her jeans off, and her tits dropped like tear drops, swaying as she moved.

"Leave your panties on," I said, "so I can take them off, later."

She grinned, looking up to my eyes in the mirror. "I expect you will, sir. You can keep my panties, if you desire. My horny smell, you see, my panties will smell of my dark, hairy places. You can take me home in your pocket."

God, there's a thought. I smiled to myself, a sudden memory flashing into my head, of the jockstrap I used to jerk into when I was young. Shot through with cum, I'd used it so many times without washing, folded over and over and all around my teenage cock, that it was velvety smooth, like fucking my own cunt. It smelled so strongly of me. I'd sleep with it under my pillow so I could smell myself, until I started eating my cum and stopped using it.

In her room, our undressing was nearly done. I studied the tableau in the mirror. I saw myself, much bigger than her, with my own black hair on my chest, thick hair around my balls, and a black pelt at the base of my belly. My cock rose straight up, rock hard and tight, the tip just grazing my navel. The head was deepening red, and I could feel the heat of my arousal.

In front of me was the girl, and in the mirror was her twin, reflecting every move, every turn she made. She was dark and lithe, the only spare flesh on her body was on her tits and the globes of her little tight bum.

"Go near the mirror," I instructed, "so I can see both sides of you."

She smiled and did so; and there before me were two identical girls, turning and beckoning to me, smiling and laughing. She stood in front of the mirror and studied herself, looking past her shoulder at my reflection, her white-toothed smile cheerful and bright.

"Am I lovely for your eyes, sir, am I very pleasing?"

She was, and I took my thick hard prick in my hand to show it, turning side on so I could see myself in profile. I felt like Narcissus with a slow hand. She walked towards me, licking her lips with her tongue.

"Come a little closer, sir, so I may be quite comfortable."

I wasn't sure what she had in mind, but I moved closer to the bed, where she was kneeling. Ahh, now I understood. She was in the perfect place to take my head in her mouth like a plum, and she looked at her reflection as she sucked. She was on her hands and knees, connected to me only with her mouth.

I looked in the mirror to see her dark skinned body in front of me, sucking on my cock, her tits hanging below her torso. Seeing myself doubled the sensation, seeing the suck and feeling the suck, and seeing her suckling breasts. I felt disembodied, and knew it would lengthen my arousal. I reached under her to take the weight of a breast in my palm.

Sweet fuck, her mouth was a hot little place, and those dark eyes when she looked up at me! I felt like a king. "That's it, suck my cock with your perfect mouth, and I'll squeeze your tits. That's -"

She smacked my thigh, a sharp, swift slap, then pinched her fingers into my flesh. I remembered her words, 'Don't use filthy words, sir, unless I ask for them.' I was being warned, my words were not necessary.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I forgot."

She reached her fingers up to my nipple to show that I was forgiven. Truly forgiven, for she then cupped my balls in both her hands, and rested her cheek against my cock. All the time, watching herself in the mirror. Who was the female Narcissus? I didn't know. There was a lot about this woman I didn't know.

"Stay there, sir," she said, eventually. "I will take my panties off so you can look. I'll do it slowly, sir, so you can enjoy my darkest places, observe me very properly."

Sweet thing, she was still so very polite, but quite the exhibitionist with it. I wanted, I especially wanted, a split crotch display. My cock bounced at the thought of her dark matted places, her dark, musky centre. Her ass hole and cunt would be hidden at first, I'd have to find them, teasing her black thatch apart with my fingers.

My cock hardened tighter at the dream of her. My flesh was starting to ache. I looked down at my prick, and it was dark with hot blood, even thicker than before. All I wanted was to be my erection, my whole body turned into a magnificent prick, and her whole body a hot cunt to enshroud it. I desperately wanted to be inside her, to be consumed by her glorious snatch.

"Actually sir, would you like a chair? I have a little show, you see, and a gentleman must be made comfortable." My revery was broken, her darkening cunt still mysterious. I dragged my eyes towards her, slow and lazy, as if I was drugged.

She got off the bed, and went to another part of the room, where she pulled up a light wicker chair with comfortable cushions, placing it near the end of the bed. She placed it at a perfect angle, so I could see both the bed and its reflection in the wide mirror, and if I looked sideways, to see myself. The chair, I noticed, was wide enough for her to sit on me, my cock embedded deep inside her. If we didn't want to use the bed.

I made myself comfortable, my legs spread wide to display my sex in the mirror. I stared at myself, seeing a man abandoned, my sensibility rapidly unravelling. Was this what Dorian Gray saw, when he went upstairs to the attic?

My prick reared up from my body, thick and darkening red. She looked at it for some seconds, as if drawn to it by an optical thread through the air. She smiled, this time a smaller, more personal, more intimate smile. She licked her lips, and nodded. "You're mine now, sir. You'll see. It will be very pleasurable, taking you upstairs to Mama."

She turned away from me, and I saw a little track of hair rising up from her panties, up from the crack of those firm little globes to where it stopped in between the two hollows each side of her spine. It was the shadow of a tail, something primal. Or was I turning into an animal? I didn't know.

'Upstairs to Mama?' I didn't quite register what she'd said, what she meant.

"Wait one moment, sir, I will return." And she went from the room. I heard the opening and closing of the fridge door, and a jingle of ice in a glass. She was gone for two or three minutes, and just before she returned, I heard music start to play. Speakers must have been hidden in the room, for the sound surrounded me, the low beat of a drum in the air.

She returned to the room with a glass, ice cubes shot through with gold. She gave it to me, and the liquor was fierce on my tongue. I settled back to watch, my thickness still hot and hard, up against my gut. Every now and then, I placed the glass against my shaft for cold relief. My cock slowly throbbed, an ache of pleasure heavy in my balls, and the shaft become rock hard, harder than ever before, it seemed. But I might have forgotten nineteen.

She'd put on several diaphanous veils, sinuous and flowing around her body, and she used the bed and the floor, and sometimes the chair, for her dance. The music pulsed around me, at first with a low tempo then an increasing speed as she spun and stretched her limbs around me, raising them high.

Beneath the veils, whenever a limb divided the cloth, I could see glimpses of her white cotton panties. I'll put them in my pocket, I thought, pick them up from the floor when she drops them. The dance was exotic, but those plain cotton panties were closer to nirvana for me.

"You're beautiful," I said, "so lovely. Dance for me, pretty girl."

Get those veils off and spread cunt naked on the bed, that's what I really wanted to see, her thick thatch, her black bush. I didn't want smoke before my eyes, I wanted mirrors, a lost corridor. I wanted to see myself without pretence, crawling and crawling and crawling. But I was afraid she'd stop, if I said that, my unadulterated lust without warning.

"Dance for me, beauty," I whispered.

She came to me, climbed up on the chair and gave me a kiss, her hands gripped around my shaft. She looked straight into my eyes, then turned away, and stood in front of me, facing the mirror. Looking over her shoulder with a flirting glance, she let a veil drop away, and another and one more, till she was clad just in one veil, her long mane of hair, and her plain cotton panties. Her body glistened, and it might have been a fine sheen of oil, or sweat, I couldn't tell. It was a while since I'd tasted her flesh, her soft skin.

I took more sips from the glass. I did not know what the liquor was, alcoholic for sure, but steeped through with spices, from what I could taste. It was hot on my tongue, and I felt its heat down into my belly when I swallowed. I took more sips and wiped my brow. My cock felt even harder, ready to explode, but she wasn't even touching me. I took another sip, and wondered if it was drugged. I swallowed some more.

The music stopped, and there she was before me, her breasts rising and falling with small pants of breath. Her eyes were bright, her skin flushed with the exertion. She wore only the panties now, and a single shroud of cloth. She looked at me intently, studying my eyes, gazing deep into me. She took a step forward, and took the glass from my hand. Taking a mouthful of the golden liquor, she bent to my prick and let the fluid spill over the plum red head, before taking my end into her mouth, holding me there without sucking. The same burn that had flooded my gut spread down the shaft, and I felt huge, as if my whole body was my cock.

"It's beautiful, you see, tasting your lingam like that. It's a nectar of gods, isn't it?"

She studied me again, before nodding. "Your eyes, sir, your desire. I can see it in your eyes. It is lusty and fierce, and I think it is my body you want to fuck."

She looked down at herself, then carefully put the glass down on a small table. She put her finger to her lips, then mine, so I understood I was to say nothing. My eyes were burning, I wasn't going to look away.

Taking two steps away from the chair, she stood, facing the mirror. Looking past her, I could see her face, and she was still looking at me, at my reflection. I shifted my eyes from that knowing little smile, and focussed on her neck, that little vee of hair pointing down.

The air in the room was still, and for a moment the only movement was the rise and fall of her breath, and the beat of my heart in my cock, pulse, pulse; pulse, pulse. I couldn't comprehend how I was so hard, and there at the tip I saw a clear diamond of fluid emerge. That never happens with me, I don't get pre-cum at all. I was holding my breath. Stillness. Beat, beat, and another small bead pushed up. I released my breath.

"Show me," I whispered.

The last veil dropped away to the floor, and she stood up straight before me, her skinny back and the contrasting white panties were all I could see. Her long hair was in a twist all down her front, only there in her reflection. She moved one foot apart from the other, revealing the narrow gusset of her underwear.

Slowly she bent forward, shifting her feet further apart. She touched the floor with her hands, and her hair pooled in a coil at her feet. She stayed like that for a moment, letting my eyes gaze over her. Then, taking the waist of those panties in both hands, she eased them slowly down her legs. I didn't know where to look, to follow the cloth down, or to keep my eyes fixed on the place being revealed.

"Show me," I whispered again, reaching for her, but she was just beyond my fingertips. "Fuck."

"Look at me deeply, sir. Tell me what you see when you look at my dark places." She leaned forward, putting the weight of her torso on the bed, making herself comfortable.

"Please tell me what you see. Use your filthy words, sir, if they please you." She looked around with her stunning, cheerful smile. "I like to hear filthy words, you see. When it's the right occasion."

She reached back with her hands and spread apart her cheeks.

Oh glory fuck, such a magnificent bush, thick black hair covering her vagina completely, and her ass hole too, shrouded and shadowed. Black curls covered the tops of her thighs, hiding her entrance, black curls thick and shiny, black curls between her legs.