1 comments/ 15138 views/ 0 favorites Shaven By: da_scribe Clean shaven -- the sweetest flesh a woman has, clean shaven. Your pussy bare and open to me, to my tongue and lips, to my fingers, my hands, and my cock. How wonderful a treat! I can't wait to see your naked sex, the lips swollen and pouting, the clit hiding coyly within, until my tongue coaxes it from hiding, so my lips can kiss and suck it until it swells and begins to glisten with your juices. Your pussy, with the sweet mound above it, and the fleshy lips around it, lying so open and honestly at the top of your strong thighs, thighs that will soon close around my head as I dip my tongue into your honey again and again. Thighs that will open as I bury my face in you, dragging my nose through your wetness, breathing your musk deep into my lungs and sucking your juices into my mouth, swirling them on my tongue. As I plow my stiff tongue up and down between your lips, and across your clit, sucking it in and worrying it with my teeth, my hands will slide under you, closing on your sweet ass and lifting your pelvis from the bed, so I can drink from you like water from my cupped hands. As you fill again with moisture my excitement grows, and the gentleness seems less necessary. I bite at your mound, not to hurt you, but to claim your pussy for my own, to seize it and hold it, as your smell rises to my nostrils. I bite your thighs for the same reason, then my tongue slips to your anus, teasing and probing. I roll you over atop me so that I lie beneath your belly, that round, smooth belly. I bite it too, not hard, but firmly, slowly shaking my head like an animal claiming its prey. That's what I feel like now. I grab your ass and pull your pussy closer to my face, my nose and chin and mouth buried in the wetness of your crotch. You are naked above me, your nipples hard and your pussy falling open to my mouth, your beautiful bare sex so glorious to look on, as it falls open above me and juices run from it like a glistening tide. There is no hair between us now, nothing to stop my tongue and lips from wetting and tasting and feeling every fold of your flesh, every drop of your flow. My cock is hard and throbbing as I slide two fingers into you, curling them and pulling more juice to the opening of your vagina, where my tongue dances about, gathering it into my mouth. My thumb stabs and dances around your clit, which swells and eases from its hood. I can't help it. I have to take it into my mouth, clamping my lips around it and sucking it until I feel your ass clench in my hands and your thighs flexing on the sides of my face. Taking your ass once again in my hands, I begin to rock your hips back and forth, literally scrubbing my face with your pussy. The feel of your fleshy mound and your sopping labia drives me wild, and sends a drop of pre cum to the slit in my cock. I sense it but I don't care. All I want is to make you come again and again with my hands and my face and my mouth. That is my pleasure, not some short lived climax, and emptying of my balls. That can come later, much later. Your juice runs into my beard and my nose is soaked as it slides to and fro in your slit. My tongue drills up into your pussy, and I gently gnaw at your labia, pulling them away from your opening and letting my fingers drive back into your tunnel. You begin to move above me forcefully and roughly, as if determined to come once more. My fingers dive and plunge into you and I can feel your juices thicken and froth in your pussy. As you near your climax, you seize me by the hair and grind my face into your naked pussy, as if I were nothing but a toy to make you come. It is a feeling that makes me hotter than ever, and harder still. My cock is bobbing in excitement, with juices dribbling from it and running into my bush. But my climax doesn't matter. My only desire is to taste your come once more. Your thighs tighten and your grip on my hair becomes painful -- and terribly exciting. My hands reach up your body and I clamp onto your nipples with all my strength, smashing them and twisting them as hard as I can. The pain sets loose a flood of juice and I drink deeply from you. Leaning back, you grab my hair and raise my head, forcing my face deep into your pussy where you thrust back and forth onto my tongue. Suddenly you come, flooding my face with your liquid release. I drink as long as I can hold my breath, then you shove my head back to the bed. "I'm done with you," you say as you throw yourself off of me and collapse onto the bed, spent, your tight ass thrust up in the air just a bit, as you rub your swollen pussy against the sheet, as if to dry it. I lie there tasting you and catching my breath. Slowly my cock softens and my full balls ease a bit. A short nap and we can start again. Clean shaven. I can't wait. Shaven: Mauricio's Point of View Mauricio sat propped up against the headboard and his mind drifted to thoughts of cheese. Specifically Swiss cheese, filled with holes, and turned purplish black from being left out of the Kenmore refrigerator. He giggled to himself. "Cheese" he thought. For a moment he felt the dread that had awoken him from a deep satisfying sleep lift and his eyes blinked slow and lazy. His head was drawn to his left as he chuckled with a soft and accepting laugh. "Ahh, Christina" he thought as his eyes fell upon the bluish gray alien figure breathing deeply beside him. "You are going to get me in so much fucking trouble." He winced with acceptance. The cheap lime green sheets purchased at Sears on sale draped over her slim – though decidedly female hips and legs. Mauricio could make out the outline of her body underneath the field of green. She was on her side with her back to him. Her top leg was bent at the hip and jutted out at a 45 degree angle. Then it bent again at the knee to run parallel to her bottom leg – keeping her balanced on her side. He could see her toes from that top leg peeking out from under the sheet. They barely looked human. In the moon light he imagined her little piggy's as the rounded, oddly colored outer shell of some exotic sea creature, eking out a living by surprising some unsuspecting source of protein with its carnivorous pounce. They were pale pink on the bottom where the blood and muscle congregated and showed themselves through her translucent skin. Her toenails were painted black; a bottomless pitch black that only betrayed their presence by the light from the streetlamp reflecting off the lacquer. The black voids where framed by light blue skin. The skin shimmered then disappeared underneath the green sheet. Her skin wasn't blue. He knew that of course. It was an optical illusion. Like that dress from the Oscar's. Was it gold and brown or blue and black? It blew up Twitter. "All the world is on fire" Mauricio thought when his twitter feed was flooded with comments "and my socially conscious friends worry about the color of some celebrity's dress." But it did make him think about the color of Christina's skin. He suspected that the ugly yellow light of the streetlamp from one window, the white moonlight sloshing it's way in from the other window, her own naturally pale skin, and the purplish lavender color of the walls all contributed to the blue hue that now shimmered next to him. Mauricio understood this to be true. This was the only possible reason. But as quickly as he had recognized this undeniable truth he replaced it with a different explanation that seemed to him to be more accurate. Christina is an alien with blue skin. And he had just made love to an alien. From the headboard he admired the rest of her form that was in part appearing and disappearing under an ocean of green fabric. Her toes disappeared under the green sheet. It flowed into what he imagined was a green mountain ridge as seen from space. He recognized the leg that formed that ridge. It was athletic and strong lying under the sheet. It was capable of high kicks on stage but also curling itself around his waist as he thrust deep inside of her – preferably while she was holding on to the headboard with her head thrown back muttering some unintelligible language. That leg ran longer than a human leg. He was certain of that. And its companion created a similar mountain ridge under the sheet - long, lanky, un-naturally flexible. Between these two ridges was a broad green polyester valley. At the foot of the bed the valley spread out flat and even. Mauricio traced the ridge lines and the space between them up the bed. At the halfway point they merged. And from under the sheets he saw the outline of two well-formed mounds. Between them there was a deep gorge. It was narrow and dark and wet. He imagined an underground waterfall emptying into a deep cool pool. He had recently dived into this pool and tasted its sweet life-affirming nectar. Not the water on earth. "Alien sustenance" Mauricio thought. The green sheet gathered at her waist and left her back exposed to the moonlight. More bluish skin was revealed. It looked like light blue latex or rubber tightly bound to her muscle and bone. Her entire back seemed to shine with some thin secretion. Sparkling, clear and viscous. It formed a tight film around her spine, ribs, shoulder blades and shoulders. Her visible anatomy was equal parts bone and muscle and skin and blood. Pink splotches and stripes interrupted the light blue illusion. This is where the blood had been coaxed up to the skin. Mauricio had invited the pink corpuscles with his energetic groping. Even his words joined in with an entreaty. "C'mon baby, c'mon" he remembers pleading as his hands grabbed hungrily at her waist, and his fingers scratched their invitation down her back. His cock twitched at the thought. Her arm, a bit more pink than blue, perhaps because it was less in the shadows, was cocked up over her head. It held a white pillow with green trim in place over her ear; her head was burrowed between the pillow and mattress. Christina regularly slept this way. "You're snoring" she claimed one morning as she woke him up with a start – swinging a pillow over his chest. Her red locks hung disheveled over her cheeks, puffy eyes glaring out at him. Then she smiled and dove her head under the pillow again. She claimed it was snoring that caused her unusual sleeping position but Mauricio thought it was more primal. As a child his family had a Chihuahua as a pet. The dog would drill his nose under blankets , crawling and squirming his way till more than half his body was hidden and only his tail exposed. Mauricio thought perhaps the same instinct was at play with Christina. Was she seeking security or comfort? Perhaps it was some pre-natal memory driving her back to the womb. "How did she breath?" he often wondered. And then his gaze fell on the back of her head and the dread that woke him came back. The top of her pronounced spine disappeared under the blue skin just where her trapezoidal muscles connected at the base of her skull. He saw that her spine, neck and skull were wrapped in a rubbery film that sparkled purple, blue and pink. He traced the rubbery hues from the back of her skull all the way to the crown of her head. Gone were the red locks that previously framed her face and dropped to her shoulder. Her sexy, wild strands that could get a rise out of him with just a toss of her head were no longer attached. All he saw was the elongated, smooth bluish pink melon that was held between two white pillows. An alien head. "Christina, my sweet alien girl, you don't need to breath, do you?" he now thought. "Because you're not from this world." And then, instinctively he moved a hand to his head. It matched the texture of the smooth rubbery skull he was just examining. "My hair is gone" he thought. Absent were his brown tightly cropped curls and sideburns. He rubbed his smooth cranium like Aladdin rubbed his metallic lamp. His hand ran in circles over the smooth skull but no genie appeared; only despair. He closed his eyes as the dread came back again. His head dropped back to the headboard and he closed his eyes. "What the hell did I do?" he thought. "How did I get involved with this odd alien girl? Where in the universe did she come from? What power does she have over me?" he wondered silently to himself. As a kid his dad would tell him stories about the man on the moon. His dad had purchased a second hand telescope from some garage sale. On warm summer nights they would walk out to the back patio and point the thick white tube skyward. Together they'd catch sight of a few stars, perhaps Venus rising. But the moon could always be counted on for a great show. When full, it shown white and bright. Mauricio could see the craters and pock marks. His dad told him the names of the largest craters and plains but he never could remember them. He preferred the story his dad told him about the man in the moon – and how the moon was made of cheese. It was the European type of cheese – smelly holey and sometimes showing shades of blue or green mold. 'The smelliest place in the universe' Mauricio thought as a kid. And so Mauricio was now thinking about cheese and the Woman on the Moon. Christina was the alien visiting from earth's neighboring satellite. She was definitely unearthly – odd in both mind and body. She saw things others didn't. His fingers absent-mindedly played with the holes in the headboard. Christina had a great idea a few months back. They would design their own headboard and add a little flair to the otherwise plain bedroom. Mauricio only had some plywood, paint and a drill. "No Problem" Christina cheerily said. She revved up that drill and started drilling holes indiscriminately on the plywood. Holes of different sizes - up to 2 inches wide - appeared in random locations all across the head board. Then a thick coat of bluish black paint completed the masterpiece. When Mauricio first saw it he thought of the moon and moldy Swiss cheese. It was full of holes and turning purplish black. "I love it" Christine declared. "And look Ricky, all the holes create great hand holds." Christina was on the bed now, leaning back against the headboard. Both hands were thrown to the sides as if being crucified. They reached and grabbed for holes in the headboard. She arched her back and started panting in an all too accurate depiction of a mock orgasm. She was very convincing even though she was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. She abruptly stopped the act, laughed and looked at Mauricio. "Wanna play?" she asked and she slowly slipped one hand under her t-shirt and began to rub her small breast. For a moment the wanton Christina overtook the creative Christina. Her red locks spilled over her face. Her eyes took on a wild lust. Her breathing became heavy. "Or I could tie you up to the holes" Mauricio said as he bounded on the bed trying to follow her lead and suddenly much more appreciative of the smelly cheese headboard. "Ahhh" she screamed with a laugh, coming out of her slutty teasing persona. "Wait!" She collapsed to the mattress and escaped underneath Mauricio then landed back on the floor, leaving Mauricio hanging. "We have to clean up first" Christina laughed. "I can tie YOU up later" she finished. Back then Mauricio fell in love with the new Swiss cheese headboard his alien girlfriends perspective on life and sex. But now sitting quietly in the moonlight anxiety pricked at Mauricio's insides. "We look like freaks" he thought. Christina had convinced him to become an alien along with her. She said it would be sexy and artsy. "Ricky" she whispered using his pet name "trust me, this will be awesome. Think of the stares we will get. We will freak people out. It will be just one huge laugh as people try to figure out what is going on." "I think we'll be the joke" Mauricio replied. "Why do something that extreme?" "Ricky, really, it's not that bad. It's not like those crazy tattoos you got. You'll never get 'I heart Melissa off your fucking forearm" she laughed. "Hair will all grow back – I think" she smiled coyly. "Yeah, but it's going to be a pretty embarrassing few weeks. Plus, I'm up for a promotion – I mean what are they going to say?" "Think of the sex, Ricky" she had leaned in and whispered in his ear. An outdoorsy fragrance of lilac and juniper hit his nostrils and reminded him of their camping trip last year. Her hand moved to his crotch. They were seated in a booth of the local diner, treating themselves to fried steak and coffee. The laminate table masked her most slutty advances, but their fellow customers might have observed a few heavy breaths as Mauricio physically reacted to the incursion to his personal space. "Hey, that isn't fair" he looked into her eyes, breathless, but not removing her hand. "Oh my god" she continued "it would be so fucking erotic. Completely bare skin – completely naked. Shaven and naked, naked skin." She emphasized the word naked as the words poured out unfiltered. "We'd look unreal. It would feel unreal. Slipping and sliding all of my body parts against all of your body parts with nothing in between." She nibbled his ear and he ended up relenting. Christina was right about one thing. It was fucking good sex. It took them the better part of the day to remove all the large and small filaments that grew out of what seemed like every pore in their bodies. Not surprisingly, Mauricio required more attention. His 30 year old body was the perfect age for breeding hair. Mature enough to find the strands growing everywhere from head to toe – and in every crevice; but still too young for any of the hair to voluntarily jettison themselves from his skin and spiral down their shower drain. "Where did all the hair come from?" they joked. Christina had lit candles in their tiny bathroom. The flickering light along with some incense set a romantic almost spiritual mood. Mauricio might have thought they were preparing to enter some far eastern monastic order had he not had such lecherous desires in mind. Not long into their task they realized the candle light, though romantic, was not quite clinical enough for the more intricate regions. Holding up the flame to the toes, the knee or much less further up to the inside thigh was a dangerous proposition. So Mauricio ran out to the kitchen, grabbed a high powered flash light, and came back to their sanctuary. Christina had one foot on a short stool, her knee splayed out to the side. Both hands where smothering her crotch and her head was bent down studying her hands, her red curls, still in place, framing her cheeks. "Hey, don't get started without me" Mauricio startled Christina. "I thought we had a deal?" Then he saw the scissors glint in her hand and realized she was just starting on some fine trim. "Hmm – of course we do Ricky" she responded. "I'm glad you remembered." Mauricio in deed had remembered – regretfully – the deal he had agreed to. As they planned their full body shave, Christina insisted on one important point. They couldn't have sex for 8 days from their initial shave. Oh sure, they could tease, kiss, and otherwise be physically intimate. But they couldn't cum. They couldn't tremble in violent release, spewing fluids down their respective body parts. If they did break this important rule, they would have to add 4 more days. The gist of this rule was to harness the excitement of anticipation. "We're only going to do this one time" Christina argued, "so let's make the most of it. If we just start rutting around every time I rub your big bald head" Christina gave out a small sexual shiver at the thought "we're going to be doing a lot of rutting – but it won't be – well as special." Mauricio agreed but with one amendment. "Fine – as long as once we get started, your slick, hairless body is mine for the next 4 days – on demand." They kissed on the deal. They saved the head for last. Scissors removed the long strands. Then shaving cream and a razor made an appearance. Then pumice stone to polish up the old noggins. They agreed to keep their eyelashes. For all they knew they wouldn't grow back if plucked –and their instincts told them that these were used every day in protecting their precious sight. But the eyebrows had to go. Being completely bald is odd – particularly for a woman. But losing your eyebrows is disorientating – and in one of those 'I can't quite put my finger on it' kind of ways. And then it was done. Waxing, tweezing, shaving all contributed to two totally hairless bodies now mesmerized by themselves in the bathroom mirror. The soft candlelight reflected off their matte finished skin. Yellow and pink reflected back to them. The blue veins from their skulls stood out in dark contrast. Christina's jaw dropped in amazement. She grabbed Mauricio's head like a beach ball and studied his head, face and hairless chest in wild amazement. Then she turned to look at the two of them in the mirror again. One of her hands caressed her own head while the other polished Mauricio's and she almost shrieked in joy. They sat there for minutes laughing and giggling at themselves in the mirror above the small antique vanity. Mauricio was seated on a small wooden chair they had rescued from an olde fashioned ice cream shoppe and Christina was straddled over his lap. Christina couldn't keep her hands off of Mauricio's darker walnut colored skin. She ran them down the nape of his neck to caress his shoulders and back. Then she'd lean back and palm his pecs, squeezing his bare chest like they were her own male honkers. If she had noticed Mauricio's building erection tickling the underside of her tush as she sat on his lap, she didn't give in to the distraction. But Mauricio began to smell her sex wafting up from her crotch. Sweet and musky. And Mauricio realized he was more turned on by Christina's reaction than her smooth pink hairless skin. She was off the hook! Her hands were cool pads of animated satin. And she used them to slowly rub his torso, head and neck. She admired Mauricio's body like it was a museum exhibit and she had a rare opportunity to touch and explore a priceless object. She connected with his glance, but then would look through his eyes; she would look through his very presence to see some object of erotic art. In truth, Mauricio had never been viewed as an object of lust. His humor, his desire for adventure and his ability to bring home a paycheck where the characteristics women appreciated. Never his pure physical presence. "Fuck, she's into me" he thought to himself. And he liked it. Finally she threw her chest into his chest. Her stiff nipples on small swollen breasts smashed just above his pecs. Her arms wrapped around his neck and back and pulled his skin closer to hers. Mauricio did the same and for the longest time they embraced, holding and slowly caressing each other's back. Christina whispered "Thank you". "Hmmmm" whispered Mauricio in a deep guttural vibration. Then Christina abruptly bounded up off of his lap. "Oh, I know what we need to do next. I almost forgot" and with that she reached under the vanity to produce a bottle of massage oil. "We need to rub this in" she stated matter-of-factly. "It will keep our skin soft and protect it from the elements now that we are truly naked." "Oh, so getting nice and oily is medicinal – doctor recommended?" Mauricio chided. "Exactly" replied Christina. "Now lay your ass down. Doctor's orders." Mauricio let out an "Oh, Jesus" and looked for a towel. He pulled one off of the rack next to the shower, laid it on the floor and got down on his back, staring up at the yellowish ceiling. He smiled and swallowed hard as Christina stood up above him both feet on each side of his ribs. "This is wild" he thought. Above him he got the first flash image of his alien girlfriend. Christina's skin was a golden bronze as the flickering light reflected off the pale yellow walls. He placed his hands on her ankles and up her calves and felt their soft smooth hairless surface. His eyes followed the golden surface as it ran up her lanky legs. Her completely shaved pussy stood above him, lips puffy but not parted; a slit of skin running from her mound down between her legs where he knew there was also no sign of foliage, just smooth dark rubbery skin and alien sustenance. Her stomach was not fat but protruded out just slightly as if Christina was harboring some symbiotic creature in her alien womb waiting its' turn to emerge and rule human kind. And above this unworldly stomach were two pink tennis balls falling down to the earth but held back by that firm, taut alien skin. Poking forward from the tennis ball mounds, two ½ inch long pinheads stood hard and erect, pointing forward to some point on the wall behind Mauricio's head. And peering down at Mauricio between them was that freaking weird hairless orb with dark wicked eyes and long snout. Her lips, tongue and teeth combined to form a wide Grinch-like grin that now stared down at him with mischief on her mind. If she had eyebrows, he imagined he would have seen one of them rise in a cockeyed look of mock sympathy. Shaven: Mauricio's Point of View "Get ready, this might be a bit cold" she giggled, then turned the bottle of oil upside down and drenched his skin like she was slathering mustard on a Chicago hot dog. She put the oil down and squatted down on Mauricio's thighs. She hurriedly rubbed in the slick shiny stuff across his dark skin, creating a glistening surface that reminded Mauricio of a well-polished piece of walnut furniture. It smelled like hibiscus combined with the remnants of Barbasol shaving cream. She worked quickly, and business-like – but like someone who enjoyed her work. She dawdled a bit as she ran her hands through his hands and again when she applied hibiscus scented palms to Mauricio's own perfectly shaved head. He was a bit disappointed that she didn't pause more than necessary as she oiled up his lower abdomen, crotch and his dark tentacle that had been shifting between semi-flaccid and embarrassingly erect through the process. But she continued and soon his entire body, from head to toe was slick, oily and shiny. Mauricio held his arms up to admire the handiwork. "Here, hold this" Christina interrupted his admiration and thrust the oil to his outstretched paw. "You'll figure out what to do – and don't worry about using too much." She grinned then launched her body on top of his. She began to wiggle and squirm, helping to transfer the ample amount of oil she had worked into Mauricio's dark mass to her cool dry golden skin. After a few moments Mauricio caught on, and while she wiggled, he squirted stream after stream of flowery goo on her back and buttocks. Then blindly, he took his dark man paws and started to rub the goo into her back, shoulders and butt. He worked diligently, trying to match his mates own work ethic. But soon he realized he too enjoyed his work. His muscular arms began to not just rub – but embrace – pulling Christina's thin frame closer to his own. Her wriggling caused more friction and the oil became hot and sticky between them. He coaxed her body up down and around his chest and abdomen, like she was some large soft cotton glove polishing his wood finish. He let her own momentum send her lower and her slick mound found itself tickling the top of his tentacle which was now popped up, seeking to find a warm, wet place to rest. Christina popped up off his chest. "Hey, stop that" she laughed. "I know what you are doing" and she sent him what he thought was a reproachful look, but again without eyebrows, it was a little hard to tell. "Maybe I should finish" and with that she grabbed the bottle, stood up and finished the medical procedure by slathering on some last remnants of oil to her head, arms and legs. By now Mauricio had worked his way to his feet and he stood up next to her. "My god she is beautiful" he suddenly thought. And with that he placed his hands on her shoulders, turned her to face forward, into the mirror, and the two stared at each other - again – but this time their matted yellow and brown skin was replaced with gooey pink and walnut vinyl. Light danced off their skin like stars in the sky. Mauricio picked up colors of blue and purple. Dark veins running to the side of Christina's small firm breasts were even more pronounced, creating what Mauricio imagined was some type of road map on a distant satellite. They stood there admiring each other. Christina looked up to stare directly at Mauricio and the two hairless orbs smiled. As if seeing someone for the first time, Mauricio felt a passion surge through his belly and rise up through his chest to his head. He heard his heart beating. 'Thudump, thudump, thudump' and then the rate quickened. He dropped his left hand from her shoulder to reach around and pull her to him. Christina pivoted perfectly on her feet – a ballerina move aided no doubt by the slick drippings of hibiscus oil on the linoleum. His left hand rested on her side, just below her now heaving breast. And he kissed her. He kissed this stranger that sported a bald pink and blue head with tenderness and even a little laughter. After all it was ridiculous what they had just done, he knew that. But that was his life with Christina. Ridiculous and wonderful. She matched his tenderness and there they stood, kissing, caressing and embracing. They swayed in their embrace. After a while it occurred to Mauricio that it was as if both their bodies were now large alien tongues. His body licked at her body like a hungry muscle exploring the mouth of some alien oral cavity – slippery, hot and wet. His body moved with a bit more energy as the thought of this large alien French kiss added to his arousal. She matched his movement and then pried his lips open with her tongue and plunged it deep into his mouth, as if she read his mind and wanted to complete the metaphor. Their passion increased. For a moment Mauricio flashed a thought 'Maybe I should break this off before it's too late and we break our deal'. Christina beat him to it. She broke the kiss and pushed her chest off of his. Their bodies made a slight 'slurp' sound as the seal was broken. She kept her hips attached to his and with an arched upper body she drew her head back. It was all shiny and sparkling and she looked as if she were about to strike out at some prey. "Fuck our deal" she growled. Her hand slipped between their bodies to give his erect tentacle some attention. She squeezed with a wanton look then opened the door and bounded into the bedroom, her limbs flailing, seeming unnaturally long and thin. They turned a bluish grey as they disappeared into the darker chamber and he heard the creak of the bed. Mauricio darted out of the bathroom to find the blue hairless alien standing on the bed, her buttocks up against the head board. Her arms were stretched out to the side and he could see her long alien fingers gripping the holes in the Swiss cheese monstrosity as if bracing herself for the attack that was to come. "Eat my pussy" Christina ordered. Mauricio leapt and tumbled onto the bed as if he were a hungry dog that had just been shown his food bowl. In one quick motion he kneeled in front of her hips, slid his hands up her thighs and reached them back, forcefully grabbing each ass check with his long purple fingers. He pulled her hips to his now drooling mouth and without any hesitation plunged his red hot tongue between her swollen mound and deep into her sex. Normally Mauricio would play with his food. He'd tease and nibble. He'd pay attention to everything but her most sensitive parts. But not this night. Mauricio selfishly darted his tongue to her core. He lapped at the top of the opening, where her bone could be felt through the flesh reaching one of her sensitive internal spots. He worked his tongue to the lower part of her opening and flicked the spot where the opening for her pussy closes and transitions to her other, darker opening. Then his tongue punched itself deep inside of her again. It stretched and darted from side to side as if seeking out some buried treasure. His upper lip and nose pressed themselves tightly up against her hardening bud. As his red oral muscle sought deeper passage, his nose pressed ever tighter and rubbed against her clit. He stayed that way for minutes. Hungry. Thirsty. Lustful. Then he finally remembered he was not alone satisfying his cravings at her alien well. He looked up and saw those wicked dark eyes once again staring down at him from just over her firm breasts and hard nipples. Her blue skin radiated energy. She was panting. One hand still grasped the Swiss cheese but the other now dropped to the back of his head. She forced his head farther inside of her. He didn't complain. He enjoyed the help. She threw her head back now. He kept his eyes open as best he could as she pumped her hips on his chin, mouth and nose. Her panting quickened. Her knees began to give out. She was leaning further down on him. Finally he collapsed, losing his balance and falling down on to his back, bending at the knees. "Fuck" she grunted but looked down at him and smiled – that wanton alien smile. She squatted down now and put one blue hand on his purple chest clearly signaling him not to move. Then she pivoted again. In what seemed like a leap made in zero gravity, Christina was now sitting on his face. She had turned around to face his knees. Her legs straddled his chest while her hips lowered themselves onto his hungry mouth. He felt her lean forward just a bit and her hands rested on his hips for balance. He had straightened his legs out from under him and he felt his cock spring up and rest on his abdomen. He wondered if she would take the hint. Mauricio felt slick rubber on slick rubber; Christina's ass cheeks pressed against his own cheeks and nose. Hunger abated, he decided to play. He worked his arms under Christina's thighs and his hands grabbed her buttocks. He pressed up, raising her ass and pussy an inch off of his chin. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with a cocktail of hibiscus, barbasol, pussy and now a new earthy smell. His cock twitched. He stuck his pink and purple muscle past his teeth and his lips and searched out that sweet nectar. He relaxed his arms a bit and Christina fell ½ an inch and he found it. He used his hands to begin to move Christina's ass in a small circular motion while his tongue moved in the opposite direction. He outlined the entrance to her alien cavern, covering her walls with his saliva and spit. It combined with her own juices and now the combined drink slid back down his own throat. He swallowed. He braced her hips and kept Christina from bucking too hard, despite her attempts to fuck his face. She moaned in both delight and in frustration for being held back. She began to move her hips herself, keeping the same rhythm as Mauricio had started. So Mauricio used one hand to reach up to her lower back. He dug his fingers lightly into the skin and he imagined pink trails emerging on her blue skin along her spine, down to the small of her back and then to the fleshy cheeks. His hand alternated between caress and light scratch. Soothing then irritating. Irritating then soothing. And now Mauricio's' tongue stopped its circular tease and sought out the hard nub of flesh he knew was there in the dark – just an inch or two towards his chin. "There" he thought as the hard button revealed itself from between hot and wet flesh. His tongue flicked at its underside with several strong strokes. Christina jerked forward and exhaled. Mauricio repeated and this time used his free hand to slap her hard on the ass. "Oh god" she said breathless. Her elbows bent a bit and her torso dropped. She now pressed her hips down more urgently – breaking through Mauricio's firm hold. Her pussy ground down on tongue and chin. She moved her hips forward, then back. Then forward and back again, in several hard, determined thrusts. She grunted and puffed urgent breaths. She sweared. With each thrust his bald purple skull was temporarily trapped between her hips and the mattress. His nose is forced to explore her slimy ass crack and tiny pink opening. Each thrust he is pressed further into her. She bucks back creating some space to breath and Mauricio inhales through his nose, the stale air cocktail filling his lungs. Then again she presses forward, his head is smashed down and his nose goes deeper. Mauricio senses Christina is beginning to position her thrusts not just for chin on clit and tongue in pussy but also nose on ass. "She's going for a hat trick" he smiles to himself. Her sweat is fighting through her oil covered pores and begins to bead on her oily skin. The sweat and hibiscus sludge drips down her arms and her back. The drips build up steam with each thrust and begin to combine with other drips. Soon a relative river of slime spills down her spine, down the gorge that is formed by her two fleshy ass cheeks and splashes on the bridge of his nose. He closes his eyes to keep the stinging fluid at bay and is now forced into blindness. He goes with it. Embraces it. This is the two of them at their best. They may make horrible decisions and one or the other may in the heat of the moment exhibit some sort of depravity or goofiness that might bring any other lover to call a timeout. But once they make a decision they both commit and see it through. The sweat raced down his cleanly shaven face and head and he just hangs on. Christina bucks again – but this time noticeably deeper – and she holds her position. Her elbows now buckle completely and her torso falls on to his with her two matching hard nipples jamming themselves hard enough into Mauricio's abdomen for his heightened senses to feel the nibs. Mauricio hopes Christina's proximity to his now protruding dick inspires some reciprocity. But the light blue alien is now in her own world and his purple cock lays barely noticed resting on the nape of her neck and shoulder. Christina heaved her hips up for a brief reprieve and then repeats the hard deep thrust. She holds it in place and now Mauricio noticed another change. It started with her inner thighs. The slick rubber began to tremble against his face. In another instant her whole thigh, then her whole leg vibrated as if in an epileptic seizure. She buries her head into his crotch and users her semi-useless arms to embrace Mauricio's thighs, digging her nails into his rubbery flesh unprotected by any dark hair. Her whole body is convulsing against his skin. She is loud – but not saying words – at least nothing Mauricio can understand with her thighs vibrating against his ears. And then it rains. Alien rain releases from somewhere deep inside Christina and covers Mauricio's lips. The tight seal forces the life affirming liquid to spill out past his lips and tongue. It pours down his chin and cheeks and gains momentum as it races down his neck. It begins to pool under his head. He feels the dampness and hears the wet sheets and mattress slosh around his head as her convulsions slowly shake his skull.. Then the shaking stops. Mauricio feels her dead weight press on him. Zero gravity seems to transition to 2G forces. Her hips still strain against his mouth and he drinks in the smell and the taste. Her panting comes in deep measured drafts and he attempts to match her heaving with his own. He finally rests his tongue and she slides 2 inches forward. Fresher air mingles with the hot steam coming from her groin and he gulps in the oxygen. They lay their breathing. Her thigh twitches uncontrollably and she giggles. After a few more deep breaths the twitches happen again. Electricity is still flowing through her body. She moans in satisfaction. Mauricio wants to ravage her. His shaft uncontrollably jerks against her neck. Christina's hand makes its way to the thick member and caresses it against her cheek. She turns her head and lazily kisses the base. "How to fuck an alien?" he asks himself. He pictures her on her back, feet high in the air. Or on her knees, with her blue shimmering back and head down in prostrate subservience. He lets her rest some more and her breathing becomes more regular, almost sleepy. "Okay baby, we're not done breaking our rule yet" he whispers. He deftly rolls her to his side then gets up on his knees between her spread legs. Her entire body shimmers in the moonlight. Her pussy still shines from the alien rain. He glances at the place where his head had been. Two large wet spots spread out like butterfly wings. They outline where his head and neck where held prisoner against the mattress. He smiles and returns his gaze to the bare skinned creature. She looks up at him with a sleepy smile. She is limp. She is a puddle lying on the mattress. Spent. She knows there is more work to do but she can't seem to work up the energy. Mauricio wiggles his knees in underneath her thighs. He smiles back at her. "Ready?" he asks. "No" she sighs with a laugh. "I need a minute." "Yes, I bet you do" he laughs. With that he scooped his left arm underneath the small of her back and lifted her up. For a moment she was a limp rag doll. Her back arches backward and her head drops. She rolls her eyes into the back of her head, the whites flashing back at Mauricio in an unworldly summoning of strength. Her arms flounder behind her before she re-animates them and they fling around his neck as her chest comes even with his. She locks her arms and pulls herself close to him. She locks her eyes on his and pulls his soul into hers. The move took the breath out of both of them and they heave a couple of deep sighs at each other. She is straddling his lap and the head of his cock twitches teasingly on the bottom of her ass. His right hand reaches underneath her ass, grabs his own cock, and slaps it upward on her tush. Pfft, pfft, pfft. "Admit it" she whispers provocatively "I was right, this is so sexy." He keeps his eyes locked on hers. "You are a very smart, very crazy bitch" he whispers and then raises her up, shifts his dark tentacle in position, and sits her back down on his lap, penetrating her with a deep thrust. "Eeoow" she groans. Her eyes widen but they don't break the bond with his. She starts feeling it again – the electricity – and she shudders slightly. He sees her eyes start to explore his bald purple head and her jaw drops in delight. Mauricio starts a slow swivel and grind, moving her hips around his tentacle in sloshy circles. She is still mesmerized by his head and giggles. He guides her in more circles, then changes direction. Slosh. Slosh. Slosh. She rides with him but still seems distracted by his head, his ears and chin. She paws his bald chest. She giggles every once in a while and he begins to get self-conscious. He moves his arms from her hips to her back, hoping to break her trance. It works. She fixes her eyes on his again. She bites her upper lip with a coy smile. She looks like a slut alien – unworldly, shimmering, and now understanding the need to please. She picks up on his rhythm and now she's moving her hips. Slosh. Slosh. Slosh. She raises her hips a couple of inches and then plunges down. It's Mauricio's turn to open his eyes wide. "Oh, yeah, that's it" he whispers. She seems to contract her own womb to constrict his member. Then she switches movement again and grinds her pubic bone into his then rotates her hips backwards. Mauricio feels his cock leveraged against the bottom of her vaginal cavity and then she grinds again. She blows a kiss to Mauricio. "Alien slut" he thinks again. The bump and grind continues. "Oh, yeah" he whispers to no one in particular as the pleasure continues to build. Moments turn into minutes. Christina is now feeling the sensations. She grinds again and the electricity spurts through her body. He feels it shudder. She raises her hips again and his cock head is poised at the entrance. She makes small circles then 'slosh' she buries him deep. He yearns to be close to her. He breaks their eye lock and pulls her body onto his, slimy flesh pressed against slimy flesh once again. She slithers her body on his. Their cheeks meet and caress each other. They are locked in a snakes embrace and he relishes the smooth slippery feel. He can now look down her back, colors of yellow and pink but mostly light blue reflecting from the light. He sees his dark walnut colored arms sliding back and forth like the tentacles of some star trek creature seeking to capture the blue alien slut and swallow her hole. The tentacles slide up and down searching for a grip to pull her closer. To get inside. Below these dark appendages Christina's blue back narrows at the waist then broadens out where her two fleshy cheeks are bouncing on his dark walnut thighs. To Mauricio they look like two massive tree stumps, anchoring him to the mattress. They create a deep contrast to her ass that is swirling, pumping and grinding. In the night outside a car drives past and the headlights shine through the window. It lands for a brief moment on her back. The blue turns a pale translucent pink. Mauricio sees her veins and the ridges of her bones and muscle. For a moment she is completely exposed and then the search light moves on and the room is plunged back to the half-light that aliens prefer. Shaven: Mauricio's Point of View Mauricio is feeling the power and the eroticism build. His breathing gets heavy as his tentacle grip tightens on the light blue being. The alien slut begins to struggle. He feels her motion pick up. "It's working" he thinks. He feels in any moment he will capture her. Have all of her. Now she is moving with even more energy – a creature in her death throes. She slides to the right seeking escape, then to the left. She grinds down. Her body starts to tremble. He's almost there. She's shaking uncontrollably now, pressing herself into him. Her arms tighten around his back. They both scream out. Death screams. Victory screams. He punches his hips forward, once, twice, a third time deep inside and then it comes. He locks his hips onto hers and releases. They are pressed together and Mauricio swears he feels her electricity jump from her body to his. They both tremble and clench each other. For a very long moment they are connected, a single circuit stopping time. Then they collapse. Mauricio wasn't sure how long he was asleep before he woke in a panicked sweat. The moonlight still shone through the window. He sat up to rest on the head board being careful not to wake the sleeping creature lying under the green sheath. He rubbed his bald head. "Oh Christ" he mutters. "Christina, what have we done." His head falls against the headboard. Almost absent mindedly he reached his hand backward. One of his purple fingers winds its way into one of the many holes. "Cheese" he thinks and for a moment smiles.