Fucking like animals

I thought of soft pubic hair the other day — soft like cashmere. I remember encouraging her to grow her bush because it was so soft, and I liked to run my fingers through it.

Black pubs against alabaster skin. I would run my fingers through her bush as I circled her clit and slipped fingers inside; she was warm and wet. She would moan slightly as I pulled on her curls.

Sometimes she would ask me to pull out just before I came and giggled with delight as I came all over her bush. She would encourage me to mix my cum with her juices and condition her pubs — her black pubs glistened. She would ask to taste our juices and her eyes sparkled when she found a pubic hair. She would inspect it intently before she discarded it to the sheets.  

I was encouraged to grow my pubs because it was only fair — she liked the idea of sucking on hairy balls. My bush was course and was a proxy for our differences. I would watch as she dived deep into my bush and sucked my cock and caressed my balls with her tongue. Sometimes she refused to fuck me, and would jerk me off so she could rub my cum into my hairy balls.

We liked the feel of fucking with hair, and it wasn’t long until we agreed not to shave for a year.

And for a year, we fucked like animals.