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Forbidden Fun

By: ViciousTease



Chase is hardly through the door and she's already looking for him. She knows it's wrong. Dean is dating a mutual friend, so they have bumped into one another several times at parties and social events. They always chat briefly, polite conversation about the weather and such, both knowing that to discuss anything deeper would be a mistake. Right or wrong there is an attraction between them that they are both trying to ignore. 

Her date is saying something, offering to take her coat. She hands it to him, distracted. Dean is nowhere to be seen so she moves into the crowd, finally able to relax. It's better that he's not here. That's what she keeps telling herself as she tries to fight the disappointment. Her date returns with a drink for her and they move through the group, talking with friends, smiling and laughing. Things are as they should be.

After nearly an hour, Chase excuses herself to go outside. These are her friends; she should be having a great time. She just can't get him out of her mind. Telling herself to snap out of it, she steps back inside and heads down the hallway.

"Chase, I didn't realize you were here." 

She sees him and smiles, "Hey Dean, did you just get here?" 

He holds up the coat in his hand, "Yeah, we just walked in. I was headed to put Lisa's coat away. Got any idea where it goes?" 

Grinning, she turns back the way she came. "Follow me." 

Chase leads him down the hallway to the first bedroom where the bed is piled with jackets. Depositing his alongside the others, they head back to the living room. The two chat about nothing, as usual, getting ever closer to the party. The closer they get, the slower they walk, both trying to prolong this moment. It's the first time they've ever really been alone together. Stopping at the end of the hall, only steps away from a room full of people, they struggle to keep the conversation going, wanting to keep it light. 

Finally Chase says she better get back in there and turns to walk away. Dean reaches out and touches her shoulder. She turns back just as he says, "I was hoping you would be here tonight." Knowing it's wrong, she gives in to the moment and steps closer to him. She starts to tell him that she hoped he'd be here too, but the words are left unspoken as he leans down to kiss her. 

The kiss is soft, just a brief touch and then he pulls back slightly, still close enough she can feel his breath on her face. It seems like he's hesitating, waiting for a sign maybe, but then he kisses her again. His lips press hard against hers and she sighs, letting go of her fear as the passion she's been hiding overwhelms her. She moves her arms up around his shoulders, pulling him closer as they deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding boldly into her mouth. 

"Dean," she whispers as they move slightly farther back away from the crowd. He slides his hands down her back, gliding them over her hips. As he pulls her tight against him she can feel his cock, already hard, pressing against her stomach. 

"Tell me you want this to happen, babygirl," he whispers as his fingers start to work the hem of her skirt higher. 

"I need this ... I've wanted it for so long," is all she can say as she starts to unbutton his shirt. 

With one hand working her skirt up to her waist, he takes the other and slides the straps of her dress down over her shoulders. Sliding his hand inside as he pushes it down, he closes it over her breast. She moans softly as he caresses her through the fabric of her bra, circling his thumb around her aching nipple. Chase runs her hands over his bare chest, squeezing occasionally, fighting for control. Dean squeezes her ass again, pulling her hard against his cock and her control is gone. She fumbles with his pants, clumsily, finally getting them open. She pushes them down, briefs and all, letting them pool at his feet. Now her hands are forceful, touching him, feeling his ass, his hips, running up and down the back of his thighs. 

With her dress nothing more than fabric bunched at her waist, Dean breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down her neck. Finding her nipple hard and waiting, he takes it in his mouth. Quivering, she moans louder, praying the noise of the party will cover the sounds as he pushes her panties down, sliding them over her feet as she steps out of them. 

They turn and Dean pushes Chase back against the wall, moving to the other breast, biting down gently as he sucks her nipple deep into his mouth. She leans her head back against the wall, eyes closed, and take his cock in her hand, touching him there for the first time. Both moan at the contact, his cock throbbing, thick and ready as she begins to pull gently. 

Releasing her breast, he kisses her again deeply as his fingers slide down between her thighs. He drags his fingertips slowly over her lips, caressing just outside, finding them swollen and wet. He pushes his thumb deeper, gliding it over her clit. The contact makes her tremble, her moans getting louder as he devours her mouth to muffle the sound. 

Dean's need takes over as he picks her up, sliding his hands along her thighs as she wraps her legs around his waist. He places a hand flat against her stomach and slides it lower until his thumb reaches her clit, stroking it gently. Chase squeezes her legs tight around him, his cock sliding beneath her, the shaft gliding between swollen lips. He rubs firmly against her throbbing clit making it tighten and swell until she starts to cum. 

Moaning into his mouth, desperate with need, she whispers, "Fuck me now, Dean. Please, I need to feel you inside me."

He slides his hips back, aligning himself, the head of his cock pressing into to her. "Tell me you want this babygirl. I want to hear you say it again."

"Please, Dean. I want you to fuck me. Right here. Right now."

She slides her hands down to his ass and pulls him hard against her, burying his cock all the way inside her waiting pussy. Squeezing around him, the walls of her wet cunt begin throbbing with her orgasm. 

"Oh fuck, babygirl," he whispers against her lips and then he starts to fuck her, long deep strokes, sliding out to the tip slowly, and then driving his cock in hard and fast, pounding into her, his thumb still strumming against her clit, forcing her higher again until they are both on the edge. 

Her body is on fire, aching, tingling everywhere as he moves faster, her pussy squeezing his cock with each stroke. As her second orgasm reaches its peak, she feels his cock swelling, stretching her. He begins fucking her harder as her pussy tightens around him. Chase cries out, his lips pressed hard against hers as he tries to swallow the sound, and the tension in her body breaks, rolling over her in waves. 

Chase begins to shake, her legs weak, but Dean grabs her ass with both hands, pushing her back hard against the wall, and continues pounding into her, slamming his cock into her pussy harder with each stroke. 

Suddenly he moans into her mouth, growling as his cock erupts. Holding still, buried as far as he can get, she can feel his cock throbbing, giving her what she needed, feeding her desire. 

As his climax ends, so does the kiss. He looks at her and she smiles, laying her head on his shoulder. 

The sounds of the party start to filter through the hall, reminding them both where they are. He slowly lowers her to the floor, sliding out as he does, and then pulls her against him. They stand there, snuggling tight for a moment, and then silently break the contact. Their eyes meet and they begin to dress, never looking away from one another. 

He smiles and she can't help but giggle as she smiles back at him. With a sigh, Chase turns and walks back into the living room. 

Dean leans back against the wall, breathing deeply, waiting to let her get settled into the crowd before he comes in. When he pushes away from the wall ready to head in there he glances down and sees her panties lying on the floor at his feet. Grinning, he picks them up and puts them in the pocket of his sports coat. 

"I wonder if it will be as much fun putting them back on her as it was taking them off," he mumbles to himself as he heads around the corner."

Forbidden Furry Fruit



What category this story ends up in is Literotica's call. I have put it in Interracial, but it would also fit in Mature and Fetish. It's about an older white man and a younger black woman. She keeps her body natural and the man likes it that way. If anything there offends you, you probably won't like this story. Otherwise, please enjoy.

***

"Kenya!" I exclaimed after the cashier greeted me by name, and although I knew she was there I hoped my pretending to be shocked at seeing her rang true. 

"Long time no see, Mr. Taylor," Kenya said, her big white teeth made even brighter by the chocolate lips and ebony skin that surrounded them. "How you been?"

"Okay," I lied, and I knew that Kenya saw through that one, because while it had been almost four years since Kenya had stopped being a fixture around our house, they hadn't been good ones for me.

Four years ago my wife had left me, having grown tired of life out in the middle of nowhere, and while I sensed she was unhappy, there wasn't much I could do about it because this was my home, Remsen, New York. It's where I was born, went to school, and worked, and also where I fell in love.

The former Mrs. Taylor not only left, she took our daughter Emily with her, and that was what really hurt. Then again, I couldn't blame a then 16 year old girl for preferring a more "hip" place to live. 1971 in Remsen was a lot different than the world Emily saw on TV, and I guess also that a daughter belongs with her mother.

Kenya was Emily's friend, even though Kenya was a little younger. Emily had befriended Kenya because she felt bad that pretty much everybody either ignored her or gave her a hard time. Black people in our neck of the woods were rare, and I always thought a lot of Emily for being nice to the girl, because she seemed like a wonderful kid.

Emily might have been older chronologically, but Kenya was more mature in many ways. Wiser in a street-smart sense, and while Kenya was not a raving beauty, she had something about her that I suspected would break a lot of hearts along the way.

Kenya was now working the register at the local IGA grocery store, and I had noticed her when walking past the store the other day. Even though it had been four years since I had seen her, she seemed much the same as back then. Long and lean, Kenya still looked as sleek as a leopard, probably close to 6' tall, and while she hadn't filled out in the ways girls do as they become women, she had a way about her.

Behind the store name tag with KENYA printed on it, her breasts were still only modest bulges in the uniform top, and while her bottom was still bigger than her top, her rear-end wasn't all that much out of proportion with the rest of her.

"You hear from Emily?" Kenya asked, her voice stirring me out of my daydreaming, and when I told her that I did every week, she told me to say hello for her.

"She coming up to see you at all this summer?" Kenya asked while I fumbled with my wallet.

"No, not this year," I responded. "She's taking summer classes as some sort of accelerated program."

"Too bad. I would have liked to have seen her again," Kenya said. "Maybe we could have gone back to the swimming hole like old times. Remember that?"

"Oh sure, " I said and added in jest, "If it stays this hot I might go back there."

"I still do," Kenya said with a grin.

"You do?"

"You don't mind, do you Mr. Taylor?" Kenya asked with a grin.

"Heavens no. Just be careful because there's no lifeguard there any more," I cautioned.

"I know. I was kinda hopin' you would come back some time though," Kenya said. "I go back there a lot after work, about 6:30 to cool off. You ought to join me sometime."

"Maybe I will," I said, shivers running down my back when those long ebony fingers brushed against mine, and as I made a hasty retreat I remembered why I thought it was probably for the best that Emily had moved away.

***

I used to play lifeguard back at the tiny pond that was way down the hill at the back of our land. The pond wasn't really on my property, but was not really well known at all, so usually it was just Emily and Kenya splashing around back there.

Although Emily was older and more physically mature in many ways, Kenya had certain qualities that got my attention. I never did anything, of course, and as time went on I tried to pass off my lifeguard duties to my wife just to make sure.

There was no crime in looking, but I wanted to avoid any chance of getting involved in anything. Kenya was like most teen-aged girls, flirting playfully with men, probably like my daughter did when I wasn't around, so I avoided being back there just in case.

The way Kenya had talked to me that day at the market though, actually being happy to see me and making a point to let me know that she still went back there to swim and the times she would be back there? What did that mean? Was that an invitation?

***

After locking up my modest little insurance office for the day, I drove home slowly, not really sure of what I was going to do. What I wanted to do was certain, but I remembered that while I was curious and lonely, one of the few things that could make my existence even worse was to have my name dragged through the mud by doing things to a young girl.

Maybe she wasn't teasing, but if I had misinterpreted her words and it turned out she was just an innocent kid who wanted to chat about old times, a mistake like that could cost me one of the few things I had that I still cherished. My good name.

In my mind I tried to do the math. Kenya was a couple of years behind Emily in school, so while she was still young, she had to be 18 because Emily was 20, so I fought to keep the word 'child' out of my mind.

By the time I got home I knew that I would go down to the little pond. It was still a nice walk on a stuffy late afternoon, so after I pulled up the driveway of my home and threw my briefcase on the kitchen chair, I was prepared to stroll down to see if Kenya was there when the phone rang.

It was one of my customers, a client who owned a farm equipment place out on Route 12, and while I always happy to take care of my policy holders any time of the day or night, I was fidgeting as he went on, the clock ticking away.

I managed to answer all his questions but by the time I got done it was 6:35. Skipping out the back door, I realized too late that I was still dressed in my grey suit, not having changed like I had planned. The sight of a middle-aged man briskly walking through a field would have been funny had any neighbors been within sight, but that was one of the joys of living out in the sticks.

The path that Emily had worn into the brush had nearly disappeared from lack of use, but I managed to stay on the faint trail as it wound down the slope of the hill. Kenya, if she really was still going back here, must be still walking along the tracks that led from town and going back home the same way.

I felt like a fool, hustling back there in hopes that my leg wasn't being pulled, but even if it was a fool's mission, it was better than sitting alone at home, watching TV and eating some microwaved disaster. As I walked, the scene became more familiar, and I could almost picture Emily and Kenya back there playing in that little puddle that probably seemed like an ocean to them back then.

Making the turn around the patch of trees, I noted that while it was a bit overgrown back there, it was still a cute place to swim, and cursed myself for not coming back here before. I guess the memories back there were too strong.

It was quiet back there, so quiet that I knew Kenya would not be back there, which is why I did a double take when in the little pond no bigger than a basketball court, I saw Kenya. At first I thought the pond must have gotten deep because the water was up to Kenya's shoulders, but then I realized she was kneeling.

Kenya didn't notice me at first, so I was treated to a view of her from the side, and she looked amazing. Her Afro was cut much shorter than it had been back in the day, when she had a wild blown out style, and I thought that this shorter cut suited her better. Her flared nostrils and thick lips looked magnificent from this angle, and I could have stayed there and looked at her forever had she not noticed me arrive.

"Bout given up on you, Mr. Taylor," Kenya smiled as I walked over to the rocks where I spent many hours sitting.

"Got a call just as I got home," I mumbled while easing down on the larger rock and looked down at Kenya who was knee-walking close to me. 

"You don't look like you're ready to swim," Kenya said as the water lapped at his prominent collarbone. 

"Don't even have a suit that fits anymore," I mentioned, because while I was in decent enough shape for a 45 year old guy, I was looking my age more and more as time went on.

"Don't need no suit," Kenya declared. "I ain't wearin' one."

I took a deep breath at that, looking over at the backpack on the ground that had a towel inside of it, and on the rock where Kenya's jeans were folded. Alongside them, her bra and panties rested, and next to them, her IGA uniform top, the light blue darkened by the sweat on the back and under the sleeves.

Kenya was naked, and I was frozen there on the rock, looking like a fool in my suit coat and tie. I finally undid the tie and slipped off my suit coat before sitting back down, and Kenya seemed to enjoy my discomfort.

"You all sweaty," Kenya teased. "Nice and cool in here. You can keep your underwear on if you modest." 

"I don't think you deserve to see an old wreck like me."

"Shucks, I remember when you came in swimming with us a couple of times back then," Kenya said. "I remember telling Emily - girl, your Daddy look fine in a bathing suit."

"Gee," I mumbled. "If I did, those days are long gone."

"Still look fine to me," Kenya said, rubbing water on her slender shoulders while I tried not to look when her breasts began to emerge from below the water.

"So what have you been up to?" I asked, trying to change the subject, and Kenya explained how her Daddy still worked as a guard down at the prison, and her Momma was doing okay but had been feeling poorly last winter.

As for Kenya, she had graduated high school and was going to college come fall at SUNY Cornell. She seemed to have done very well for herself, and I was very happy for her.

"So that's my story," Kenya concluded, and as she did her hands came out of from under and threw water on her head, working the coolness into her scalp.

From the knowing smile that Kenya wore, I knew that she was aware of where my eyes went as she did that, but the sight of her raw and natural beauty was too compelling for me to care at first, and only when I forced myself to look into Kenya's eyes did she continue. 

"If you ain't gonna join me..."

"Maybe next time," I suggested.

"Guess I'll get out then," Kenya said, and got up off her knees while I turned away to leave.

"I'll be going now," I mumbled.

"No, Mr. Taylor," Kenya said. "Don't go - unless you want to that is."

I stood there looking away, not sure of what to do. All I had to do was turn a bit and there she would be, wet and naked, but I couldn't.

"Look at me, Mr. Taylor," Kenya was saying. "I know you used to like to look at me. Couldn't figure out why when Emily was built so much better, but then I figured it out. I like the way I look, and I think you do too. Here's your chance to see it all."

I turned, and as I did my knees got weak. Kenya was standing there, wet and naked and unashamed, and while I felt like a lecher I realized that Kenya wanted me to see her and she was no longer a child in a bathing suit but a woman.

Like a statue Kenya stood, her ebony skin glistening in the fading sunlight. She looked like a panther, her long and lithe body looking even more beautiful that I had dreamed. Kenya's hands went to her breasts, her hands cupping the apple-sized orbs, the purplish nipples swelling to her touch.

My eyes went to the jungle between her legs, a wild untamed forest of black curls that grew high and wide, completely blocking the view of her sex, and as I stared at her womanhood Kenya said that she always knew it.

"Knew you liked my hairs," Kenya said with a smile as her hands left her breasts and went back up behind her head. "It's okay. I want you to look. I ain't ashamed."

So I looked. Instead of peeking and turning away like I always had, I stared at Kenya's armpits, which she was exposing to me for my enjoyment. Armpits that had likely never seen a razor, and as she stepped out of the water and came closer she remained in that modeling position, I took in her natural beauty.

I had always favored natural women, and my wife had been very kind to indulge my preferences until the marriage went bad, so the sight of a woman who did not shave was not new to me, but Kenya was unlike my ex-wife or any other woman I had ever seen.

Kenya's armpits, deep hollows on her slender body, were full of dense black hair, and the tight black curls extended not only down towards her ribs but up along the insides of her arms near her biceps. She seemed to float out of the water and was next to me before my mind could register what was happening

"Want to dry me, Mr. Taylor?" Kenya was asking, and I found myself being handed a towel, which I nearly dropped.

Kenya was nearly my height, and as I stood there frozen in place the girl just smiled and nodded, whispering that it was okay. I placed the towel on her chest and lightly rubbed her firm little breasts, feeling the already plump nipples blossom even fuller, and Kenya sighed as she lifted her arms once again.

"I'm wet here too, Mr. Taylor," she sighed, and I found myself drawn to the hairy hollows.

I felt self-conscious at first when I rubbed the cotton through the coarse tuft under her right arm, but Kenya was smiling, not laughing and seemed to be enjoying me drying her. Whether I dropped the towel consciously or not I don't know, all I did know was that my hand was now bare, and after my fingers raked through the woolly cavern a couple of times I couldn't control myself.

"Ooh, Mr. Taylor," I heard Kenya sigh after I buried my face under her arm, and while this was something I had done quite often to my ex-wife, this was a totally different experience.

The sensation of licking and nibbling under my ex's arms, always lightly scented, was always pleasurable, but when my lips hit Kenya's armpit my senses were overloaded by her powerful aroma, which filled my nose and sent shivers down my spine.

Strong and unfiltered by chemicals, her feral aroma was unlike any scent I had ever experienced, no doubt the result of a long day at work, but I found the scent arousing and not at all unpleasant. In fact, it was more like an aphrodisiac, and as I sucked and chewed Kenya's pungent armpit, I felt Kenya's left hand pulling down my zipper and reaching into my trousers.

"Ooh, Mr. Taylor, you gotta big one," Kenya groaned as her hand grabbed my semi-erect cock and pulled it out the fly. "I knew you was big." 

I didn't know how she knew that, but all I knew was the feel of her hand pulling on my cock was making it bigger, and when I glanced down and saw her black fingers wrapped around my beige manhood the sight was even better than the feel. My belt came undone and my trousers dropped to her grass

Kenya was now pulling away from me, her luscious armpit taken from me, and she was going down on her knees, kneeling in front of me and licking her lips and she looked up and me and then my cock before tonguing the tip which was peeking out from under my foreskin.

Without a word, those full lips slid halfway down my cock before pulling back, leaving it wet and throbbing. Kenya looked up at me while my hands gently caressed the tight Afro, the head of my cock still in her mouth, and then she calmly let her mouth go back down. All the way back down until her nose was buried in my pubic hair, having swallowed all 8 or 9" with little effort, and my resulting groan made me glad we were out in the middle of nowhere.

Up and down Kenya's lips slid, her hand pulling and kneading my balls while her mouth did magical things. It was clear that this was not something new for Kenya, but I couldn't have cared less about how she got her experience because I was too busy enjoying it.

It was coming to an end way too soon, the result of another person touching me for the first time in years, and while I cried out a warning that I was about to cum, it was obvious that Kenya didn't care.

The force of my orgasm made my knees buckle, while Kenya calmly let my semen slide down her throat while sucking every bit she could out of me, and Kenya was still sucking when I reached down and lifted her up. She reluctantly took her mouth off of my now limp dick, and when she kissed me and our tongues dueled, I didn't even flinch when I tasted myself. Those lips were so soft and full that just kissing this woman-child made me light-headed.

"You sweaty, Mr. Taylor," Kenya giggled, and when I looked down at myself I had to laugh myself at the sight of this middle-aged businessman.

My tie had made it off but my shirt was still on, but the white dress shirt was so drenched you could see the hair on my chest through it. With my trousers down at my ankles and me looking like a drowned rat, I was hardly the image that would inspire clients.

"I'm a mess," I grinned while looking at Kenya, who was sparking with moisture as well.

"You want me, Mr. Taylor?" Kenya asked, and after I nodded she asked me whether I wanted to take her right there.

"Want to come up to the house?" I asked, because while I wanted to make love to this exotic girl I was also aware that I wasn't a kid anymore, and I had just exerted a lot of energy considering all it did was stand there.

Kenya eagerly agreed, and while I pulled up my trousers and got my things together, Kenya simply stuffed her clothes into her backpack.

"No sense putting them on cause you only going be taking them off again," Kenya said about the long walk up the slope to my house, which was virtually invisible to other eyes. "Unless you feel funny taking a naked n***** through your back yard."

"Please don't use that word," I asked as I put my arm around Kenya's bony shoulder and led her up the hill.

I had a problem with that word, having used it once in passing in my younger days, and after seeing the hurt on the face of the guy who heard it I made a vow not to use it ever again. There's way too much pain in the world already as it is.

"Why not? That's what they call me," Kenya said.

"I don't," I responded as my hand slid over Kenya's moist back. "We didn't."

"I know," Kenya said. "You were always good people."

I didn't say anything, a wave of guilt running through me as I thought back, remembering that the girl used to play with my daughter, and now I was about to make love to her, if I could.

"Lotta memories here," Kenya said as she tossed her bag beside the door. "Hasn't changed much."

"You have," I said as I locked the door and faced her, but she really hadn't, maybe a little taller and fuller, but only the shorter hair was different, making her look older.

"You want me to take a shower?" Kenya asked, turning her head and sniffing her armpit. "Been a long day and I'm..."

I held her face over there, and like she knew what I was thinking she let her tongue slide over the hair she could reach, and then my tongue joined hers, dueling as we licked the salty hairs that filled the cavern.

"No," I said, because we were both sweaty and ragged looking, like animals in a way, and that equalled the way I felt. "I want you like you are."

I took Kenya down the hall, past Emily's room where they used to play, and into my bedroom. I hadn't made the bed, which was just as well, because our combined efforts had my soggy clothes pulled off just before we landed on the bedding.




Forbidden Furry Fruit



Unlike down by the pond, this time I was the aggressor. I had Kenya on her back, and starting at the forehead I kissed my way down her sleek torso, trying to lick and nibble every pore of her body. I sucked on those plump purplish/brown nipples which stuck out proudly from her breasts, which were nearly non-existent with Kenya on her back, and enjoyed the way my young lover squirmed in response.

Downward I traveled, over her rib cage and down her flat stomach, licking her belly button, which made Kenya giggle. Just below her indented navel, a thin trail of hairs began, and the lower I went the thicker the trail became until it reached the timberline of her bush.

This was no neatly trimmed triangle of hair designed to hide neatly inside a pair of panties. Kenya's pussy hair was just as thick and dense as her armpit hair, and it had a springy quality to it as my face disappeared in the jungle.

Finding her sex was no problem, because she was dripping wet, and it suddenly struck me that Kenya was just as turned on as I was. While I had no problem explaining my lust for this beautiful creation, I had no idea what my appeal was, but was not going to complain.

The taste and smell of Kenya's sex was not unlike the few others I had sampled. Similar, but only more of it, and as I licked my way inside of Kenya I felt her hands on my head, pushing me closer while her legs churned in the bedding.

I took my time, savoring the experience that I had missed so badly, and while I might have kept my young lover on the brink of orgasm a bit long, when Kenya came it was worth it. Her screams would have brought the police to a more populated area, a howling so wild and feral sounding that even with her thighs crushing my ears it was piercing.

Kenya had worked her way half off the bed by then, so when her body stopped shaking I got up on my knees and pulled her back on the bed. She looked down at my cock, which was fully re-energized to my relief, and parted her thighs so I could slip between them.

"Ooh, Mr. Taylor," Kenya sighed as I rubbed the head of my cock along her opening.

"Art," I said, the thought of being called Mr. Taylor by the girl I was about to violate too bizarre.

"Sorry - Art," Kenya said as her pearly whites shined. "Waited a long time for this - don't make me wait no more."

I knew that judging my the way she had performed down at the pond is was highly unlikely that Kenya was a virgin, but she felt like it as I pushed my cock into her tight pussy, and after I had fully impaled her we went a little crazy.

Later that evening we would make love the way I was used to, with tenderness and softness, but the first time was pure unchained lust, and I don't know whose behavior shocked me more, Kenya's or mine.

She had either created something inside of me, or being with her just unleashed something that was inside of me all along. Either way, if Kenya wasn't just as crazy and vulgar as I was, I would have felt differently about it, but she gave as well as she took.

Her mouth was filthy, imploring me to fuck her harder and faster, telling me all the things a man wants to hear, and spitting it out so good that I didn't care if it was true or not. 

"Split me in two, Mr. Taylor," Kenya hissed in my ear as I tried to do just that, the feeling of her nails tearing into my back like a whip was being applied. "Gimme all of that big fat cock!"

During that ten minutes or so of maniacal behavior, I went back and forth from being Mr. Taylor and Art, and she even slipped in the word I didn't like, but I was too far gone to care. 

I was doing something I thought I might never do again, and I was doing it with someone who I would never had dreamed of actually doing it with. Had I fantasized about it? Guilty. I had though about the forbidden fruit on more that one occasion, but Kenya was too young, and I was not that kind of guy. Now Kenya was a woman, and what a woman she was.

She came just before I did, but as I kept thrusting into her limp body she kept imploring me, twisting my nipples and telling me to fill her with my cum, and after I did I remained suspended over her, my sweat pouring down on her as I knelt down to kiss her before collapsing on the bed next to her.

"Lotsa times when you dream about something happening, when it actually does happen it turns out to be a letdown," Kenya mused as we stared at the ceiling. "Not this time. That was so good!"

"You didn't know I had a crush on you back in the day?" Kenya said as I rolled onto my hip to face her. "Oh, I used to dream that one day you would make a move on me."

"I couldn't do that," I said as I looked over the glistening ebony goddess stretched out beside me. "You were just a child."

"I know, but when you're a kid you have dreams," Kenya explained. "My dream men were Mr. Taylor and Billy Dee Williams. After you and your wife got divorced I used to ride my bike past here, hoping you would see me."

"Probably in here drunk," I said. "I wasn't much for a while back then."

"I didn't care. I would always wish that you would forget that I was kid and would make me a woman."

"I had no idea," I said as my hand went over Kenya's smooth flat stomach, over the swell of her breast and under her arm, the allure of the soggy forest irresistible.

"Emily used to tell me - girl if you want the boys to go for you, you should shave your pits," Kenya recalled as I toyed with the little seedlings that grew on the inside of her arm. "I used to say that I didn't have any interest in boys. I wanted to attract men. Boys would just call me a nappy headed... sorry. I always thought men would be more classy that that. Some are."

"Have you ever - you know - shaved?"

"Sure," Kenya said as she observed me raking my fingernails through the thicket. "Couple days ago."

Kenya managed to keep a straight face for a few seconds until the shocked look on my face proved too much, and after we stopped laughing she continued.

"I did in the beginning, but after a while it was like by the end of the day it looked like I hadn't bothered so I gave up. Lucky there were a few hippie girls in school so that took the pressure off, but they ain't like me."

"Nobody's like you, Kenya" I said. "Your name, your smile..."

"I mean nobody is this hairy," Kenya mused. "I mean, you ever see anybody as hairy as me?"

"Sure," I said, trying to think of someone. "My wife..."

"I seen pictures of Mrs. Taylor," Kenya said. "Emily showed me some family pictures one time and she turned red when I pointed out that her Mom didn't shave her pits back then. She wasn't nearly as hairy as me, but that was when I figured out you liked women natural."

"Very observant," I said, kissing her armpit and looking at Kenya through the bush. 

"You keep doing that and you better be ready to do something about it," Kenya chuckled. "Don't be getting me all fired up less you can put out the fire."

"You enjoy me playing around with your armpit hair?"

"Course I do," Kenya said. "I like it when people check out my pits too, long as they don't get nasty about it. You would be surprised at how many people dig the way I look. Most won't admit it, but you can tell my the way they look that they do. I get off on watching them watching me. And the way you devour them, that's a real turn-on."

"Oh, I thought I was the only one that was enjoying it," I said. "Now that I - what are you doing?"

"See how you like it," Kenya said as she climbed up to her knees and pinned my hand back to the headboard, and with a devilish grin ran her fingers through the hair under my arm. "Not as hairy as me, but let's see how you taste."

"Omigod, I'm so sweaty," I gasped as Kenya ran her serpent-like tongue through my armpit, pulling up a few hairs with her lips.

"Didn't bother you any, did it?" Kenya cackled. "I think we both sweaty and funky. Nasty but nice, ain't it?"

"I guess," I groaned as Kenya swooped down and bit and chewed much like I had, and soon she was sprawled over me as we licked each other's armpits. 

"Your dick is getting hard again," Kenya snorted. "I can feel it. You like this, don't you?"

"Love it," I grunted back, and after a few more minutes of armpit play I was fully erect and we were making love, and this time it was more restrained. No less passionate, but more like the was I was more used to, and thankfully I was able to pull it off.

"Mr. Taylor," Kenya said after we lay exhausted in each other's arms. "Art, I mean. I love everything natural but I think I really got to take a shower before I go home."

"How about WE take one?" I suggested, and Kenya seemed delighted at that prospect.

"Excuse me Art," Kenya said after we had been in the shower for about 5 minutes, most of which had been spent scrubbing Kenya's left armpit. "We gonna run out of warm water at the rate you goin'."

She was right, so I sped up my lathering of her lithe body, working right down to her feet, noticing for the first time that Kenya had a little hair on the inside of her calves as well, and after rinsing her off I let her soap me up.

The way she touched me was so special, bringing back memories of showers taken long ago when I was younger and in love, that I was shocked when Kenya asked me to spread my legs. In the cramped shower it wasn't easy, but when she had me the way she wanted, she knelt behind me.

"Ooh!" I moaned when I felt Kenya begin cleaning my back side rather intimately, and as her soapy finger slid into my anus she asked me if I liked it.

"Don't hurt, do it?" she asked as her long finger slid deep inside of me while I grabbed the shower wall to brace myself.

"No," I managed to say as the soaping continued, and then I felt something else down there, rubbing against my puckered ring. Not a finger. "Omigod!"

"Could tell you liked that," Kenya cackled as her finger went back in, and then her other hand reached under and grabbed my dangling dick. "You like it in the ass?"

"This feels good," I said, not wanting to admit that this was new to me.

"No, I meant fucking, silly," she giggled. "You want to fuck me in the ass?"

"Now?" I said as Kenya continued to probe my anus while milking my cock like I was a cow, and while it felt good I had just cum three times over the last few hours and knew I could never get it up again.

"No, next time," Kenya explained. "You're kinda big but I'll give it a try if you want to."

"Next time?"

"What? You think this is a one night stand?" Kenya retorted. "I waited too long for this so I figure I got you until I go to school next month. Unless you got a woman, that is."

"I guess I do now," I chuckled while my dick tingled.

"Good - hey - is your dick getting hard?"

"No, but..." I started to say, but it felt like I got an electric shock from my toes up, and then I was cackling as Kenya's milking somehow got results.

"You cumming again!" Kenya whooped as she watched my flaccid organ squirt semen into the tub. "How you do that?"

"I didn't do it, you did," I said while begging Kenya to stop because I couldn't take it any more.

The water started getting chilly so we exited and dried each other off, and after dressing I drove her home. Kenya made me stop a little down the street, explaining that her Daddy didn't like to see her getting out of the car of a strange man.

"And you, Art, are strange!"

"I know," I admitted.

"I meant that in a good way," Kenya said.

"I know that too."

"Going to come down tomorrow and be my lifeguard after work?" Kenya asked before leaving the car.

"Supposed to rain tomorrow."

"Well then, why don't I just go to your house so we don't waste time," she suggested.

"You get out at 6?" I asked, and when she nodded I told her I'd pick her up at the store.

"Uh, better not," Kenya said.

"Oh, guess you would feel creepy having people see you with me."

"Me, hell no!" Kenya said. "I just don't think people around here would like it if their friendly insurance man was seen picking up a - I won't say it, but you know what I mean."

I guess she had a point, although I suspected that people would care more about the difference in ages than skin color, but I wasn't going to have her walking to my house, or riding her bike, so we arranged for me to pick her up around the corner from the store. It made me feel dirty doing that, and it was the only thing I regret about those days. I didn't care if it cost me clients. I was crazy about Kenya. 

***

We continued our relationship right up until Kenya went off to school, screwing like teenagers, which was easy for one of us, but I was rejuvenated and was up to the task. She said we would get together when she came home from school for holidays and some occasional weekends, and she was true to her word.

Those meetings were much like the first one had been. Feral lovemaking followed by tenderness, and while I often questioned why she kept coming back to me, she was unwavering.

"Cause I like you," Kenya said after I asked that. "You funny and kinky and great in the sack. Why would I look around here for something else when I got it good? Back at school, that's different. I got friends there too. You know that, right Art?"

"Of course. I expect nothing else," I agreed. "I hope the guys at Cornell know how lucky they are."

"Guys? Yes, guys too," Kenya said, and when she saw the shocked look on my face she laughed. "Didn't know I went both ways? Thought you guys liked that stuff? Got a lady friend who's the exact opposite of me. Redhead with big breasts and hardly no hair anywhere. You wouldn't need no scorecard to see who was who if you watched us, and I'll bet you would like to, you kinky boy!"

"Sure would," I said, and as if she was reading my mind Kenya spoke up.

"Don't ask!" Kenya said.

"I wasn't going to ask to watch," I protested.

"Not that. It's something else you was thinking. I know damn well what you was thinking, that's what," Kenya said.

I didn't protest, but how she knew what I was thinking amazed me. There's not an incestuous bone in my body, but when Kenya admitted to enjoying women as well as men, my mind went back to those many sleepovers she shared with Emily.

To my surprise, I found myself wishing that they had been together that way, because Kenya was a warm and passionate lover, and the experience could only have done my daughter good, but I'll never know.

Something else I learned was that our relationship wasn't a secret. Someone else knew. Her father. That came out after a couple of years when I asked Kenya whether her folks thought it strange that she was rarely home.

"Daddy knows," Kenya said calmly. "Don't think Mama does, but Daddy does. Guess somebody saw me getting into your car or something and told him."

"What did he say?" I asked, having known her father for a long time back when we bowled in the same league, but the fact that this prison guard knew was chilling.

"He just asked me if I was friendly with Art Taylor and I said yes."

"That was it?"

"Yeah. He only cared about how old I was when it started. I told him and he said fine, that I could do worse, and that was it."

"Gee," I said, wondering if the situations were reversed and Emily was seeing him behind my back, whether I could be that way.

"All Daddy cares about is that I keep my grades up, don't get arrested or pregnant," Kenya said. "He trusts my judgement for the rest."

Kenya stayed out of trouble and did just fine at Cornell, earning a degree in Veterinary Medicine. I attended her graduation ceremony, and even managed not to run when Kenya brought me over to meet her mother and say hi to her father. Kenya's father was much cooler about it than I was. I was a stammering mess.

I kept in contact with Kenya throughout it all, offfering encouragement and advice when asked. Kenya became a veterinarian, although that brought her far away from her hometown and me, and a couple of years after that I went out to Buffalo to see the little office she had just opened up. It was a simple one person operation but Kenya had plans and dreams and I had no doubt she would succeed.

"That's it," Kenya said at the end of my tour of the office and exam room, and then brought me to the back, where a little apartment was set up. Nothing fancy, just a bed and a TV and a refrigerator, for when a snowstorm would hit and make traveling impossible.

"Get this stuff off," Kenya said as she started to undress me.

"Huh?"

"You didn't drive all that way just to see this office," Kenya snapped as she began tearing off her own clothes. "Least you better not have."

"I did actually," I said as I looked at the now 25 year old version of Kenya, which was a little fuller and more rounded, but no less furry and still fantastic looking. 

"Well, let me fuck that silliness out of you before I let you take me to dinner," were Kenya's last words before pulling me down onto the little bed so we could destroy it.

***

thanks for reading