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Roshni Ch. 01

By: ab_man_nz



Roshni 01 - First Encounter

I met Roshni two years ago, when I was living in Auckland, where there is quite a large Indian and Fijian Indian population. I was walking past a gift shop, and glanced in through the window. Standing at the counter, reading a magazine, was the most gorgeous young Indian woman. The shop was empty, so, sucker that I was, I walked straight in there and started pretending to browse, while sending the occasional glance her way.

Before long, she looked up and smiled. "Hello."

That was my cue to look at her properly. She was about 5'6", very slim, very beautiful. Her skin was the colour of rich coffee. Her face was gorgeous; full, dark lips, white teeth, a small nose. Her eyes were almost glittering-black, and her eyebrows were lush and heavy. Her blue-black hair was loose, tumbling like a mane down her back, and she had soft, black, downy hair on the sides of her face, all the way to her jawline. She wore a short-sleeved top, and her slim arms were brushed with soft, dark hairs.

"How are you?" she asked.

"Fine, thanks."

"Are you looking for anything in particular?"

"No." I continued to browse for a few moments, then looked at her again. My heart was pounding: this was my only chance. If it went wrong, at least I would never have to come back here. "I hope you don't mind me saying so, but you really are very beautiful."

Her dark eyes darted to the side, and she smiled: she had dimples. "Thank you."

"Would you like to go for coffee, sometime?"

She looked surprised, but her smile grew. "Okay." Such a direct approach often fails, but I figured I had nothing to lose, and it had worked. She handed me a store business card with her name - Roshni - in red. I thanked her, and left.

I called her the next Friday, and we met on Sunday at two o'clock. Roshni looked breathtaking. Her lush black hair was tied into a careful ponytail, her black eyes shy below those bold, thick eyebrows. It was April, still warm, and she wore a grey tank top and black bootleg pants, and my hopes were confirmed within minutes of her arrival. To my astonishment - and delight - black hairs peeped from under her arm when she reached for the sugar bowl. The grey top had been a mistake to wear: she was evidently nervous, and before long there were dark rings of sweat under her arms.

As we struggled through our conversation, it became obvious that we really didn't have much in common. So I tried the direct approach again.

"You're so gorgeous," I told her. "You don't know what you're doing to me!"

"Really?" That smile, again. "What am I doing?"

"I'm so horny I'm about to explode," I confessed, and Roshni laughed.

"Maybe we'd better do something about it?" she suggested.

There it was, in plain English. We weren't about to have a deep-and-meaningful relationship, we weren't even 'dating.' We just wanted sex. She suggested going to her apartment, because it was within walking distance, so we hurried down the busy road. I held her hand: her pale palm was cool and dry. When we got to her place, she led me straight into her bedroom.

I undressed in the corner, Roshni by the bed. The boots and pants, first: sliding down her long brown legs. Her skimpy grey marle knickers had no chance of hiding the bushy mass of her pubic hair; black curls peeped around the little triangle of cotton. She pulled her knickers off, and I just stared. Her pubic bush was beautiful, broad and thick and black, a trail leading all the way to her belly button. She pulled her sweat-ringed tank top over her head, revealing barely-there breasts high on her ribcage, dark-chocolate nipples. She paused to untie her hair, and my eyes rose to the deep hollows of her armpits. The hair was thick and black, filling the gully of each armpit.

For the first time, I realised that she was feeling self-conscious of her hairiness. "You still like?" she asked me timidly.

"Very much," I admitted.

She was a fantastic kisser, her dark lips parting to reveal a pink tongue: she tasted sweet, and we lay naked on her bed kissing for half an hour. My jaw hurt, but I couldn't get enough of her mouth, and the feeling of her tongue playing with mine. Eventually, I kissed her lovely face, her thick eyebrows, then the soft hair down her cheek. It was incredibly downy, fluffy, and I kissed to her neck, deliberately working my way to those armpits.

Her shyness returned when I reached her shoulder, but I gently lifted her arm. Immediately I caught her aroma; a heady, slightly-pungent scent of flesh and sweat, a scent more beautiful and captivating than any perfume. I put my face close and sniffed, slowly, deeply, savouring the smell of her body. My cock was so hard it ached. When she felt my tongue teasing through the lush, feathery hair of her armpit, Roshni gave a groan of pleasure. She didn't wear deodorant, and I could taste the slight sourness of her body as I buried my face in her thick clump of armpit hair. My tongue dragged through the resistance of the hairs, tasting the saltiness of her skin. She moaned and squirmed in delight. I kissed my way along her slender arm: her upper arm was covered in the finest, silkiest downy hair. The hairs on her forearms were longer and darker, but no less soft. I could have spent hours just kissing her beautiful hairy arms and armpits.

Instead, I turned her onto her stomach, lifting her heavy mane of thick black hair away to expose the nape of her slender neck. Like the fuzz of a peach, tiny hairs formed a trail down her spine. I followed it to the small of her back, where it became fluffier: even her bottom, exquisite, tight, and firm, was softened with a fine fuzz.

The natural gully between her slim brown thighs was an incredible sight: a dense black and hairy tangle that hid her pussy from view. Only her dark anus, surrounded by dark hair matted with perspiration, was visible. I wanted her so badly: my cock was hard, my heart was pounding. I leaned down and licked the ravine between her buttocks, then pushed my face in so that I could tongue the flinching brown star of her arsehole. Roshni moaned and sighed, her fingers clawing the bedclothes.

I dipped a little lower, and dragging my tongue through the forest of hair that covered her pussy, finding her sweet treasure beneath. Roshni's groan became more urgent, and suddenly, she turned over, her eyes dark with desire, and pulled my face into her tangled bush.

Roshni's pubic hair filled my mouth as I nuzzled a path through its tangle, finally finding the secret bud of her clitoris. It swelled and hardened as her arousal grew. She tasted like heaven itself, and I sucked and licked on her wonderful hairy pussy, wishing it would never end. But in minutes, Roshni was squealing with pleasure as her orgasm hit, her hands in her hair, her down-covered belly heaving.

We we weren't finished yet, though: still wet, and still horny, Roshni got on all fours so I could fuck her. I did it doggie-style, my cock disappearing into that dark thatch of hair, my hands caressing that hairy butt, my hands sliding under her cup-cake breasts, through the damp hair of her armpits, along her downy arms. I exploded inside her, filling her.

Afterwards, we lay side-by-side on her bed, and I stroked every inch of that wonderful body, feeling her soft velvet, marvelling at her hairiness. If any woman on Earth could convince the rest of the world that being hairy is beautiful, it was Roshni. When I kissed her mouth, I savoured the fine hairs above her lip.

It didn't seem right to talk about her body hair: it was as if she took it for granted, and would have been offended if I made a fuss about her because of it. By the end of the afternoon, I got ready to leave. She lay on the bed: her gorgeous body, dark skin against white sheets, naked, watching me as I got dressed. She was full of smiles, half-shy, half excited, and asked if we should do it again soon.

I assured her that we should. 

Roshni Ch. 02



Chapter 02 - The Date

It was cold and wet, the Sunday of our first date: the temperature would have been struggling to make thirteen degrees centigrade. People hunched in jackets and raincoats along the street, splashing past me as I waited outside the cinema. And then I saw Roshni coming along the sidewalk, in a black sleeveless mini-dress, beneath a blue umbrella. Her bare brown shoulders and bare arms, her long brown legs, her black open-toed shoes, were all in complete defiance of the cold. There was vapour on her breath, and yet she gave every impression that she didn't even notice the chill day. Teenage boys gawked at her, older men sent envious glances.

Roshni was twenty-three, Indian, and gorgeous. Her skin was the colour of rich coffee, her eyes pure black, her eyebrows thick and dark. Her long hair was glossy black, flicked over one bare shoulder. She was very slender, with slim hips, tight butt, a flat stomach, and tiny, high breasts. Her lips, chocolate-dark, had a natural pout.

As Roshni approached the cinema steps, she saw me, and smiled. She said 'hello,' and lifted her face for my welcoming kiss. At close range, she was even more beautiful. The cold day had a wonderful effect on her body. Her nipples were like bullets, pushing two bumps in the fabric of her dress. Her bare arms and legs were covered with goosebumps, the hairs standing fiercely on end.

There was no mistaking, she had body hair. From her shoulders to elbows it was a soft downy fluff, similar on her thighs. On her forearms, the hairs were slightly longer, but just as fluffy and fine: in the cold they all bristled maybe a half-inch in length. When she closed her umbrella, I saw the hair in her armpit: thick, black. She had never shaved her underarms in her life. And why should she? Roshni was beautiful. She knew it, too: she had a crushing head-to-toe glance that she gave any woman who dared to disapprove. I'd never met anybody like her.

"Shall we go inside?" I offered.

During the movie, Roshni snuggled against me. It was still cold in the theatre, and I cradled her close to keep her warm, my hand slowly caressing up and down her bare arm. I could feel the texture of her skin, the tiny bristles of the soft hairs. I could smell her, too; the most alluring mix of feminine flesh and the natural aroma of her body. Roshni never wore perfume of any kind.

Her apartment was within walking distance, and it had stopped raining, but it was still cold. Despite this, Roshni seemed happy in her little dress, with goosebumps on her brown bare limbs, chatting as we walked. She attracted plenty of attention, guys' heads swivelling as they drove past.

None of her room-mates were home, when we arrived at her apartment. In the kitchen, Roshni rubbed her bare arms. "Fuck! It's cold!"

"So let's get sweaty," I challenged.

I put my arms around her and kissed her on the mouth. She squeaked, then started kissing me back, her tongue pushing inside my mouth, her hands gripping my shoulder blades.

I kissed her face, the dark fluff down the line of her jaw, and unzipped the back of her dress. She was eager to cooperate, and took it off quickly. Next came her undies, and I was chasing her naked, fuzzy little body into the bedroom. Her skin was perfect, her figure slim, and just about every inch of it covered in fine downy hair. She jumped onto the bed, and I followed her.

I don't know if many people find goosebumps sexy. Maybe not. But on Roshni's naked body, they were incredible. Her coffee-brown skin, lit by the window of her bedroom, was a textured landscape, the tiny hairs standing fiercely on end in the chill air. I couldn't help myself: I started at one hand, kissing its pale palm, then her forearm, with its silky-soft hairs. On her upper arms, the hairs were finer, fluffier, patterned in little swirls on her brown skin. Higher up, the hairs grew finer, until I was kissing the peach-soft skin of her gleaming shoulder. But when she lifted her arm for me, the scene changed.

The hair in her armpit was blacker than ink, bushy. It grew in two directions from the crease of her underarm. Each hair was maybe two inches long, but thick. Roshni stretched both arms high above her head and clasped her hands, letting me kiss her hairy armpit, taking in mouthfuls of her musky hair and tugging and sucking at it. I could taste her perspiration; not stale, but real. Roshni loved the attention I paid her underarms, kneeling there on the bed while I licked until the hairs were wet, teasing the centre of her underarm, guiding the hair with my tongue.

I shifted finally to Roshni's other armpit. This time, she lay on her back, and I began the same routine of taking the hair into my mouth. Her salty-sour sweat was strong on my tongue, the hairs coarse and thick as I sucked her secretions from them. Roshni was squirming with arousal: her petite breasts rose and fell with her breath, the nipples erect like plump blackcurrants. While I sucked her armpit hair, she played with each nipple in turn, twisting it back and forth like a tuning-knob on a radio, then stretching it out with fingers and thumb, until they were swollen and dark.

Roshni's breasts weren't hairy, but they, and especially her belly, were covered in the finest peach-fuzz, like velvet. It was most evident down the gully of her breastbone and towards her belly-button, where a black and thickening trail of hairs led to the broad, black spread of her pubic hair.

Her legs, like her upper arms, were softed by fine peach-skin down. The shape of her legs was exquisite, her thighs long and sleek, her calves tapering to slender ankles and pretty, pale-soled feet with red-painted toenails.

As I licked the aromatic hollow of her armpit, sucking on the hairs and tugging them with my teeth, Roshni's exquisite goosebumps finally surrendered to the first tiny sequins of sweat as her breathing grew quick.

The textures of her incredible body had me aroused. My cock was so hard it hurt.

"I want to suck you," Roshni announced, when she'd had enough of my tongue in her armpits. She got onto her hands and knees, grasped my erection, and gave the head a tiny lick. It sent shivers through me. She put out her pink tongue and, with the tip, teased the underside of my cock's head, then closed those full, dark and pouting lips over me, sucking my head into her mouth. It was almost more than I could stand - I nearly came instantly, but held on as Roshni slowly began to move my cock in and out of her hot and welcoming mouth, her tongue lavishing itself over the head, her eyes closed, long black lashes kissing her coffee-brown cheeks.

Her thick mane of black hair swept my thigh as she began to suck me with passion, taking my cock deeper into her mouth. Her thick eyebrows were angled down in concentration as she bobbed up and down. I didn't want to take my eyes off her for a second: those dark-chocolate lips wrapped around my shaft, the fluffy black hair down the side of her jaw, the delicate hairs above her upper lip now sparkling with perspiration. Her long fingers cupped and stroked my balls, her other hand closed around the base of my cock, drawing it deeper into her mouth.

My eyes roamed over her bare brown back, her tapered waist and narrow hips, the dark peach fuzz along her spine and the landscape of goosebumps that still textured her brown body. It was all I could do to endure, as her mouth sucked on my cock, faster and deeper, almost the entire length of my cock, slurping and hungry as if it was more precious than air. 

I felt the pressure building up deep inside me; it grew and swelled and my cock felt ready to burst. Roshni kept sucking me, faster and faster, undeterred by my groans as the inevitable explosion rushed over me. I came deep inside in her mouth. Roshni didn't even slow down for the first spurt, but swallowed and kept pumping and sucking me, greedily swallowing each shot until I was finished, then delicately licking every last drop from me.

Now it was Roshni's turn to lie back.

Her bush was like a carpet across her groin, thick and tight black curls covering her pussy, and growing all the way back between her buttocks. Her clitoris nestled beneath its brown hood in a tangled black forest. When I started to tease and taunt it with my tongue, Roshni gave a long moan. She propped herself on one elbow, a hand in her hair. Her small breasts, with their stone-hard nipples jutting; the black pocket of hair in her exposed armpit.

"Lick me hard," she commanded.

I did, her bushy pubic hair tickling my cheeks and nose, my tongue rocking her clitoris back and forth, sometimes diving into her. With my fingers, I teased the hairs around her arsehole, occasionally easing the tip of one finger inside. Roshni gasped and bit her lip, fingering her nipples and squeezing her own breasts. Her long, black hair cascaded over half her face and one shoulder, the first few beads of sweat beginning to spark beneath the soft hairs down the side of her face. Her stomach shifted faster and faster with her breath as I continued to lick and suck on her clitoris, now easing two fingers into her anus.

"Oh, God," she breathed. The black thicket of hair down between her thighs was wet with her juices and my saliva, and I worked my fingers deeper into her arsehole, my tongue flicking and circling her clitoris. She began gasping, her pelvic muscles going into spasms, so I eased off, and the orgasm ebbed away.

In that way, I kept my face in that wonderful thick bush for twenty minutes, until my tongue ached, my fingers buried deep in her sweet brown pucker, my tongue driving into her vagina, taunting her clitoris. Roshni was whimpering, her bare breasts and belly gleaming with sweat, the hair under her arms matted, her arms glistening. I watched a drop of sweat trickle down her ribcage from one underarm. She tipped her head back, and her throat was shining, her long hair plastered to her wet skin.

I still wouldn't let her orgasm, though, and finally I stopped tonguing her, and slid up her body. By now, my penis was hard again, and it found its path through the hairy tangle of hair, into her vagina. Roshni gave a cry of pleasure as I slid easily into her furnace, burying myself to the hilt, holding her around the waist with one arm and driving deeply. I put my mouth to her skin, tasting her salty sweat, licking her wet breasts and shoulders. While we fucked, she raised her arms and put her hands in her hair, baring her dark hairy pits to me. It aroused me even further: I pushed my face into the sweat-wet hair, inhaling her musky aroma, my tongue dragging through the straggly hairs, tasting her salty-sourness. Nothing ever tasted as sexual as Roshni's underarms, and Roshni was finally given her orgasm, her hands in her hair, her back arched, her mouth open as she wailed and cried in pleasure.

I needed a few minutes more, so Roshni wrapped herself around me, pushing her sweaty armpit into my face, her tongue in my ear. I soon came inside her, giving my last drop, and we fell to the damp sheets, panting and puffing, slippery and hot against each other. Roshni's goosebumps were long gone.

I lay there afterwards with Roshni, tracing sweat-patterns in the downy hair of her belly, while she, with arms behind her head and hairy armpits bared, told me how wonderful I made her feel.

I knew that for as long as the sex remained, we would have something special together. 



Roshni Ch. 03



Roshni 03 - Awards Night

I had been dating Roshni for about a month. The sex was great, but we had still found very little in common outside that. As a believer in romance, I wanted to make the most of my relationship with Roshni, so I invited her to the Awards night.

The annual Awards function was for businesses in my industry, so I asked Roshni to go with me. She had agreed at once, and had talked about it with some excitement in the two weeks leading up. Even so, I was not sure what to expect when the taxi pulled up outside her apartment. Up until now, I had only seen her dressed casually, and though she was always sexy, I had no idea how she would look in formal evening wear.

I shouldn't have worried. When Roshni appeared at the door of her apartment, she was gorgeous. Her dress was black, ankle-length. It hugged her slender hips, moulded itself over that flat stomach and high breasts, followed the taper of her wonderful long legs. A halter-dress, it was backless, dipping all the way down to the very base of her spine. She teetered on three-inch stilettos.

But it wasn't just the dress that was breathtaking. Around each wrist, Roshni wore a gold cuff, and around her right upper arm was a coiled gold bangle. There was a gold chain around her neck, matching her gold earrings. Her hair was braided and tied in a swirl. It was the first time I had seen her wearing make-up, too - her eyes were glittering black, her thick and heavy eyebrows made even blacker, her lashes thick and dark.

"You look incredible," I told her, as we walked to the taxi.

"Thank you," she beamed. The night was cold enough for there to be vapour on her breath; those sexy bare shoulders and arms were rough with goosebumps in the winter air; but Roshni would always put practicality ahead of comfort. A jacket would only cramp her style, so she chose to go without.

Impressed as I was with Roshni, I was slightly anxious about the evening. After all, I would be showing her to workmates and acquaintances, and, like it or not, there was an aspect to Roshni I was not sure they would accept. In a word, hair.

Roshni had lots of it. Down each side of her face was dark, fluffy hair, a fine black moustache above her upper lip. There were wispy hairs all the way down the nape of her neck, dwindling to a soft velvet the length of her spine. Her forearms were covered with a dark downy fuzz: her upper arms fluffed with even finer hairs. Anyone lucky enough to see her naked would discover the richest, deepest spread of black pubic hair, filling the pit of her groin, spreading down between her legs and even sprouting out between her buttocks. Her butt, too, wore a fine fuzz similar to that on her upper arms and thighs. And she had hairy armpits. Thick, black bushes of lush and soft hair that filled the hollows of her underarms.

"I'm nervous," Roshni admitted as the taxi drew up to the hotel. Almost without thinking, I glanced down at the brown flank of her ribcage, below her arm, but above the line of her halter-neck dress. A single streak of sweat ran from her armpit, confirming my hopes. Roshni never wore antiperspirant, never wore perfume, and already I could smell the subtle aroma of her perspiration.

When she walked with me into the ballroom, heads turned Roshni was the most beautiful woman in the room, with her incredible dark eyes and bright, broad smile, and a body that was beyond compare. I walked behind her, my eyes falling to her naked back, seeing the fine pattern of hairs down the ravine of her spine, the fuzz of hairs on her bare arms. Her firm butt moved beneath the tight fabric of her dress.

Roshni was introduced to my friends, and I could see at once they were both impressed, and fascinated. How could a woman so beautiful ignore fashion's first rule – to shave? She was constantly finding excuses to lift her arms: adjusting the halter-strap of her dress, touching her braided hair, giving everyone generous views of her dark and damp underarm hair, her dark eyes flicking often to my face. She knew exactly what effect she was having on me, and most of the men in the place. She seemed to take delight, too, in the disapproving looks of women who had endured painful waxing only to be upstaged by a hairy beauty.

Later in the evening, after dinner and the awards ceremony, there was dancing. I had never seen Roshni dance before, and she was amazing. Her slender body twirled and undulated, her dark hairy armpits boldly displayed whenever she lifted her arms. Her eyes were closed, her dark lips parted as if dancing was better than sex. Her dress hugged the slender shape of her body, her nipples poking unmistakable bumps in the sheer fabric, her bare back gleaming whenever she turned. I chose not to dance; but Roshni had no lack of eager partners, including women.

"Your girlfriend is a babe," one workmate remarked to me.

After almost an hour of dancing, Roshni left the dance floor and joined me. In the coloured lights, I could see droplets of perspiration across her brow, streaking her neck. Her bare brown shoulders shone, and as she drew close, I could smell her. It was an intoxicating perfume, Roshni's sweat and body, and the smell alone was enough to get me hard. She kissed me quickly on the mouth, then whispered in my ear, "do you want to fuck me tonight?"

Before I could reply, a group of admirers arrived, four men and one woman. Roshni turned her attention to them at once. They were pretending to be interested in her braids, her dress, her jewellery, but from I saw how often their eyes roamed to her hairy pits, her thick eyebrows, her divine body. She turned away from me, and I saw the shining trails where droplets of sweat had trickled down her naked back, guided by the soft fuzz down her spine.

At that moment, two realisations sank into my mind. One was that I desired Roshni more than I had ever desired any woman in the world. The other was that she was utterly beyond my control, and that, sooner or later, she would get bored with me and want to move on. I could tell that any one of the men standing there would fuck Roshni if she gave them the chance. And when she put her arm around the waist of the girl, and they kissed each other on the lips, I knew Roshni's seduction was universal.

After all, my friends were discovering what I had long ago learned: sweat and armpit hair makes a woman measurably, scientifically sexier. It's all to do with pheromones, I suppose. No doubt most of those people would later pretend to have been turned off by Roshni's body hair, but I knew whom they would all be fantasising about tonight.

I could stand no more. I stood up and grabbed Roshni's hand, whispered into her ear, "let's go." To my surprise, she agreed, and we caught a taxi back to her apartment. Inside her bedroom, I had my tuxedo off in seconds. Roshni was delighted to see my erection, and wanted to suck it, but I had other plans.

"Turn around and kneel on the bed," I told her. The sight of her naked back all night had left me with just one desire. I started kissing the nape of her neck, the black and wispy hairs soft to my lips. A single tug released the halter straps, and I eased her dress off, kissing her bare back. I kissed her shoulder blades: her skin was like a peach. I kissed my way down her spine, and she arched her back. Towards the very base of her spine, where a subtle Y marked the cleft of her buttocks, the hairs were fluffier. Her firm brown bottom was fuzzed by a soft down. When I parted her buttocks and peeped between, all I could see was the blackest, thickest mass of hair hiding her treasure.

Roshni, by the lamp, half-turned to at me while she untied her braided hair. The hair in her armpits caught the light, hairs along her arm seeming to glow like a fuzzy halo. She still wore her jewellery, the gold wrist-cuffs and arm bracelet, the necklace and earrings.

"Straddle me," I suggested, lying back on the bed. Roshni was only too keen, thighs astride my face, lowering her hairy mass onto my mouth. My tongue found the slippery ravine of her pussy at once, and I began flicking her swelling clitoris with the tip, causing Roshni to writhe in delight. The view from where I lay was incredible: the broad and thick carpet of Roshni's pubes, a dark spider-trail leading all the way to her belly button, her stark and gleaming ribcage, her high and firm breasts, and the irresistible dark, hairy pockets of her armpits. I cupped Roshni's buttocks in my hands and urged her closer, so I could slip my tongue inside her vagina, circling her clitoris, licking faster and faster until her saturated hair filled my mouth. Roshni started moaning within minutes, and I had to grab her hips to stop her from knocking me out with her pelvic bone.

Finally, her vagina and anus convulsing, Roshni climaxed. I slid up from underneath her, kissing and licking the flat wall of her belly, her sweat patterned by tiny hairs. Roshni kept her arms in her braided hair, her eyes closed, enjoying every moment. My attention turned to her breasts. When Roshni was aroused, her nipples, like Pinocchio's nose, betrayed her. Normally dark-chocolate in colour, her aureole had darkened and condensed, crinkled like thick rubber. Her nipples themselves had swollen to twice their normal size, jutting at least 17 millimetres. They felt simply wonderful in my mouth, and I teased and sucked her nipples until she was moaning again.

Finally, I reached those fantastic armpits. The thick hair was wet with sweat, and I started on her right armpit, licking the hairs, gathering them into my mouth. Her flavours were salty and sour; fresh perspiration, and the musk of pheromones that set my heart pounding and made my cock ache. I tasted her armpit in long licks, my tongue smoothing the hairs along her upper arm, then diving back into the hairy crevice deep in the hollow of her pit.

Eventually, I moved to her right armpit, doing the same, stirring and swirling the long hairs with my tongue, tasting her, sucking the perspiration and saltiness while Roshni sighed and groaned in pleasure. Finally, I kissed her lips, and her pink tongue searched my mouth hungrily, drawing her own flavours from me. Her braids fell about her face and shoulders like black snakes.

As we kissed, still kneeling, I gently manoeuvred her so that my cock was between her thighs. The hairy tangle of her pubes teased the tip, and gradually we drew closer. I probed the tight entrance to her pussy, then pushed a little more, gradually sinking my cock into her.

For a while, I just nestled the head of my cock inside her, easing it back and forth, tormenting her. Roshni's nails dug into my arm, her eyes tightly closed in anticipation. Then, finally, I plunged deep, all the way to the hilt, and Roshni gave a shout of relief. We started moving in rhythm, our bodies pressed close, and Roshni's hungry tongue filled my mouth again as she kissed me.

We fucked harder and faster, Roshni's breathing quickening, her brown body glistening with a film of sweat. I caressed her arms, feeling the taut muscles softened by fuzzy hairs, while her hard and swollen nipples grazed my chest with every thrust.

I don't know how I held out for as long as I did, but there was no question of letting Roshni orgasm first. I exploded inside her, pumping everything I had into her, while she continued to fuck me. Finally, when I was completely empty, Roshni bent over and kissed me again, her sweaty body hot against mine.

That night, Roshni slept with her arms over her head: I lay alongside her, my face in one hairy underarm, my hand resting in the bush of her pubic hair. The aroma of her armpit sweat filled my dreams. For now, while the sex was so good, I knew that Roshni was mine.



Roshni Ch. 04



Roshni 04 -- Kinks

Roshni refused to let winter affect her mood, or her dress sense. She gave her explanation to me one winter's day. 

"I love feminine clothes," she had said in reply to my amazement; the day had been wet with a wind that cut to the bone, but her outfit was a tight black singlet-top with jeans and boots. "Most of all I love clothes that make me feel sexy. If I buy something hot, I wanna wear it now, not next summer."

It was a philosophy that often drew looks of pure envy from other guys. When other women were covered up, Roshni was sleeveless and seemingly indifferent to the weather. I absolutely loved it.

It was a chilly September afternoon, dull and grey, when I called around to Roshni's apartment. She was sitting at the table doing her budgeting in a white camisole with spaghetti straps, and olive shorts; bare feet folded under her chair. She didn't have the heating going; there were goosebumps on her bare skin, and the tiny hairs on her arms bristled out. Her thick black hair was tied in a ponytail, exposing the wheatfield of soft dark down that followed the ravine of her spine. Standing behind her, I bent to kiss the fluffy nape of her neck.

"Hi, Gorgeous," I said. "Damn, you look good."

Roshni automatically lifted her arms up-and-back to me, and I slid my hands into the humid hollows of her armpits. The thick tufts of hair that grew untamed felt wiry but soft; I tugged at her armpit hair, twisted it around my fingers. Roshni sighed with pleasure. I lifted my fingers to my nose, breathing Roshni's natural fragrance. It was musky, incredibly arousing. Never any deodorant or perfume, only her own scent.

"You're so sexy it hurts," I sighed. "You know, I love every little hair on your body."

"I know," Roshni giggled. "Lucky for me!"

"I've never asked you why you keep yourself hairy," I pointed out. 

Roshni made no effort to lower her arms, so I combed my fingers down through her hairy armpits again, brushed my face against the downy, goosebump-rough skin of her bare upper arm. "Because," she said softly, "if I start shaving, I'll always have to do it."

Roshni's answer made sense, but I wanted her to elaborate anyway. "What do you mean?"

"I'm so hairy. I'm like my cousin: even if she shaves her armpits, they still look dark -- and if she shaves them in the morning, by the evening they're rough already. If she waxes, she has to do it once a week, and it costs a fortune -- and she gets ingrown hairs and rashes and pimples. When I saw how much trouble it was, even as a teenager, I got scared."

With Roshni's arms raised, I was looking down the graceful landscape of her arm, with its tiny hairs, to the hollow of her underarm and its jet-black bush of hair. It was thick and profuse, and there was no way she could have hidden it as a teenager. "It must have been tough for you," I said.

"Sometimes it was," Roshni admitted. "I was on the netball team -- our uniform was a short sleeveless tunic ... I'd get so embarrassed, but it only made me more determined. To me, it's worse to give in to peer pressure. I'd rather stick to my principles." 

"Don't you feel self-conscious, still?" I was amazed.

"Of course I do. But I refuse to shave, and I also refuse to cover up, because it's not my problem. It's other people's problem." 

"And that makes you the sexiest woman alive," I told her.

Roshni smiled up at me, those perfect, pure-white teeth. "That's your kink, baby, not mine."

"So why don't you tell me yours?"

Roshni's smile widened, but her eyes were shy. "No way! I couldn't do that!"

"Don't be ashamed. Try me."

Roshni's only response was a quiet chuckle, her eyes closing as my hands returned to the feathers of black hair under her arms. She gave a sigh. I stroked and combed the hairs, then slid my hands lower, to the softness of her camisole top. Through the flimsy fabric, I caressed her sides, feeling the firmness of her body, the corrugations of her ribcage; then across the slight swelling of her breasts. She needed no bra, and I could feel the pliable stubs of her nipples through her top. I gently squeezed and tugged them, and Roshni lifed her face to me. She opened her mouth, and I kissed her full and soft dark lips, the almost-invisible fuzz of her moustache, feeling her sweet tongue pushing inside my mouth.

Her arms were still above her head, locked around my neck, as we kissed. My fingers explored through the damp hair in her armpits again, tugging and twisting gently, tickling and caressing the soft skin. I could feel the oozing of her sweat as Roshni became more and more turned on. Her tongue began hungrily probing inside my mouth, her breath coming more quickly.

I reached down and took the free hem of her camisole top, lifting it up slowly over the ridges of her ribcage, the tiny bee-stings of her breasts, the swollen brown berries of her nipples jutting in the cool air. I pulled her flimsy garment over her head and raised arms and tossed it aside, sliding my hands down her arms again from her elbows. Her skin felt cool, stippled with gooseflesh but softened by the fine hair that covered it.

Lower; I slid my fingers again through the tangled hair of Roshni's armpits, and felt a wet trail that ran down one side towards her ribcage.

"I have to taste you," I told her.

"My body is yours," Roshni sighed in reply.

I brushed my cheek against her raised arm, kissing my way down to the warm gully of her armpit. I could smell her sweat now, slightly sour, musky, so arousing it made my head spin. I kissed the damp thatch of hair in Roshni's armpit, and she gave a groan.

"That turns me on so much," she whispered. 

I licked through the dense thatch of Roshni's armpit hair. The flavour of her sweat and skin was an invigorating cocktail, arousing me even further. My hands cupped the tiny buds of her breasts, the stiff nubs of her dark-chocolate nipples. Roshni groaned and shifted her hips, her bare thighs rubbing against each other, her fingers clutching at the backs of my shoulders.

Her open mouth was urgently seeking mine again, so I kissed her, feeling her small tongue driving inside my mouth, searching for the flavours of her own perspiration. Her arousal was growing, and with it, the sweat was gathering amidst the black hair of her underarms.

She broke from the kiss to whisper, "I want to suck you until you cum in my mouth."

Roshni stripped herself first, pulling down her shorts and knickers and baring the black hairy spread between her thighs, her flat belly and narrow hips. She did it without a hint of being self-conscious, confident in her nakedness, tiny bristling hairs and goosebumps all over her body. Her nipples were so erect they looked like brown bullets on her diminutive breasts.

"Strip," she told me.

I pulled off my shirt, then shoes, and Roshni helped me out of my pants: the mere sight of her perfect naked body had me hard, and she laughed and caught my cock as it sprang at her. "Stand right there. I'm going to suck you where you are. I'm going to suck you so good, your head will spin!"

Roshni sank to her knees in front of me, naked, her bare shoulders gleaming, her thick ponytail sweeping her back. Closing both hands around the shaft of my cock, she delivered little kisses and licks around the head. Just watching her soft lips making gentle contact with my cock, her tongue slowly circling it, made me even harder; my erection was aching.

Gradually her assertiveness increased; she shifted her hands slowly to pump me, letting her lips close around the head of my cock so that her tongue could caress it. With increasing urgency her hands started shifting, and she let my cock slide deeper in and out of her mouth, never releasing it, but going gradually deeper. 

I watched, turned on by the sight of Roshni almost swallowing my cock. Her eyes were closed, her long lashes resting on her cheeks. Her heavy eyebrows were knotted in concentration, and tiny beads of sweat glistened on her forehead. She sucked me deeper and faster, both hands grasping my cock.

I found myself groaning, shifting my hips to push myself deeper into Roshni's mouth. The pressure was building, unbearably: my eyes were on Roshni's beautiful dark face, her mouth around my cock, her bobbing ponytail, her shining bare shoulders and her slim bare arms with outlines made fuzzy by the fine hairs that covered her body. She sucked and pumped without slowing, without tiring.

My cock belonged to this dusky goddess and she worshipped it with unmatched skill. I tried to hold out: I wanted the blowjob to last forever, but Roshni was just too good. With a groan, I exploded inside her mouth, shooting my cum into her throat. She swallowed and kept sucking and pumping, drinking everything I gave her, delighting in it, milking me with her hands.

When she was done, she gently licked my cock until there was not a single drop of cum left, looking up at me with those dark, glittering eyes beneath their heavy eyebrows, beautiful beyond words. I had to prop myself against the table, the strength taken from me by her incredible blowjob. 

Still on her knees, Roshni slowly untied her ponytail. Raising her arms bared the mysterious deep pockets of her armpits with their matted feathers of hair, the glistening pearls of sweat nestled amongst them. The pose also lifted her chocolate-tipped breasts and extended her ribcage. She knew how gorgeous she looked, and her eyes flicked up to me.

"I want your mouth on me, baby," she pleaded. 

Roshni wasn't just gorgeous. She was more beautiful than any woman I had ever met, and I was hungry for every cleft and crevice of her lovely body. I pulled her to her feet, turned her towards the table and bent her forwards over it, so that she was doubled-over at the waist, her tight brown butt presented to me. Her belly and breasts and arms and face rested on the cold tabletop, her hair fanned out across its surface. The light glinted on the soft downy fuzz that covered her bare back, the fine hairs that softened her arse cheeks. By contrast, the hairs that tufted from between her buttocks were thick and black, precursor to the heavy carpet of hair that covered her loins. 

I knelt down behind her, admiring her glory. Between her firm and brown buttocks, ringed by soft dark hairs, her anus was clean and dark and tight, and unbearably beautiful. Below it, a dense dangling crop of black hair hid the plump lips of her sweet and moist pussy. 

I put my mouth between her cheeks and pushed my tongue into the forest of hair, probing and searching for her pussy lips. Roshni sighed, but whispered, "further back, baby. Please."

Gently, slowly, I licked a circle around Roshni's delicate anus. She let out a moan of pleasure. When I put out my tongue again and briefly licked her arsehole itself, she gave a gasp. "Yes! Don't stop that!"

I began teasing Roshni's anus in long, slow licks. Roshni groaned. Her fingers clutched the edges of the table, her legs weakening at the touch of my tongue on her sensitive star. I pushed my face into her butt and worshipped at her anus, prodding and taunting it with my tongue as if it was her clit, and the effect was the same: Roshni's sweet voice whimpering and gasping. Was it the wickedness of enjoying a forbidden pleasure, or was she just wired differently? Either way, I realised that Roshni was rapidly rising towards orgasm. As I licked at her divine arsehole I could see fat droplets of sweat clustering on her naked brown back, dewdrops that gathered in the fine fur at the base of her spine; I could hear it in the squeals and rapid staccato of her breathing. Her black hair was glued to her shoulders and back, the muscles in her slim arms tight as she held on to the table.

I was hot as hell and ready to lick, suck and kiss every last inch of this amazing girl, and as I pushed my tongue inside the tight grip of her arsehole, Roshni began to cry out with her pleasure. Orgasm began to wash over her, and she pressed her face into the table, shouting at its wooden surface with her eyes screwed tightly shut. I probed and licked at her tight and wet little anus, and Roshni's orgasm seemed to go for half a minute, before her voice finally trailed into a dazed whimper.

"Oh, God," she sighed. There were quivering droplets of sweat on the table beneath her sweat-oiled body. Her thick lashes were heavy over her mahogany eyes, her lips swollen and parted with arousal. "Please, baby, put it in me ... put it in my arse."

I spread Roshni's butt-cheeks again. Her anus was a dark brown star, surrounded by tangled hairs still slick from the licking I had given her. I was as hard as a steel bar again by now, and put the head of my cock against her glistening brown date. It seemed to clench and resist, so I pushed, and pushed, watching the tight ring of muscle slowly accept my cock.

"Oh!! Oh -- ow -- slowly!" Roshni squealed, her face transforming between pleasure and pain as I sank my cock into her arse. The heat and grip were almost overwhelming, and the sight of my cock inside her gorgeous anus was almost too much. Slowly I kept pushing, deeper, until my cock was buried all the way inside her arsehole. "Uhhhh!!" Roshni barked in pain and ecstasy, every muscle tight. "Now fuck me, fuck me!"

I began to shift in and out of Roshni's fiercely-tight arse, and she shouted again, her fingernails almost splintering the table as she pushed her butt at me to increase the speed. My eyes were fixed on her tight brown buttocks, the hairy hole that swallowed my cock, and the lithe muscles of her bare back as she writhed in delight. Sweat beaded like heavy dewdrops between her jutting shoulder blades. The dark fuzz on her arms was slicked by an oily shine of sweat that polished her brown skin, her tiny breasts squashed into the tabletop as she sought to push her arse harder against each thrust.

As Roshni relaxed I was able to drive harder into her, slamming into her arse, filling her most forbidden hole and forcing fresh squeals and grunts from her. The pleasure swelled and grew inside me, and now I didn't care whether she felt pleasure or pain, I just needed to satisfy myself in her tight and perfect body. I began pounding into her arse, so hard that she skidded back and forth on the table, her cries now driven by each thrust.

The sensation hit me and I gave a yell, grinding my hips into her humid butt cheeks, my cock buried deep in her arse as I emptied myself deep inside her bowels. Roshni's final wail tailed off into a sigh, her body finally relaxing.

Slowly, Roshni turned her face, her breath fogging the polished tabletop. She weakly gave a smile. "Well I guess you've just found out my kink."

I guess I had.

*

(Note: in response to a comment left after a previous story. NZ-born Indian girls seem as acclimatised as anyone else to the Auckland winter, and I am delighted to report that it is not unusual to see such beauties in singlet-tops on a chilly day.)



Roshni Ch. 05



Roshni 05 -- The Train

When I first met Roshni I had thought her to be indifferent to, or even proud of, her body hair. But what I had taken to be self-assurance and confidence was actually Roshni's way of managing inner doubts that were quite the opposite. Roshni dealt with her fears by facing them daily.

December. Roshni and I had made a trip into the city for some Christmas shopping.

Early summer in Auckland isn't always warm, but is an improvement on winter and for Roshni that was a welcome opportunity. Her outfit for the day was sweetly sexy -- a white sleeveless blouse and black short-shorts, her slender downy brown arms and legs deliciously bare. Her luxuriant black hair was tied in a neat ponytail, flattering her long and graceful neck, the beautiful oval of her face. She wore no jewellery, and simple open-toed sandals. 

She looked gorgeous.

As we went from one shop to another I would sometimes drift over to the far side of the store and watch other shoppers; she drew more than her share of glances. Her dark, slender bare arms and her long and toned bare legs seemed to shine, such was the beauty of her youth. At a glance, few would have noticed the fine hairs that softened her limbs, seeing only the perfection of her brown skin and the petite, slender shape of her lean body, her breasts small but deliciously shapely within the confines of the crisp white blouse, her round arse tight and firm within her little black shorts.

From time to time, though, Roshni would give her admirers a glimpse of what I found so sexy; when she reached for an item on a high shelf, or lifted her hands to adjust her ponytail, she bared the dark and hairy treasures of her armpits. Within their deep hollows were brushes of jet-black and dense hair, abundant and lush. The sight would inevitably draw a second look from people; some shocked, some amused, some intrigued, but eyes always drawn to the thick hair in her underarms.

Sometimes she would catch them staring; usually she would meet their gaze with the tiniest smile, her big, dark eyes radiating charm, and make no attempt to lower her arms. That only made her more sexy, and I watched her in admiration and in an almost-constant state of arousal.

In addition to not shaving her underarms -- she had never shaved them in her life -- Roshni never wore deodorant, or even perfume; preferring to stay natural and clean. Inevitably, though, over the course of a day, Roshni would sweat, and the musky fragrance of her body was more alluring than any roll-on.

As we continued our shopping through the afternoon, we passed a clothing store -- young fashion for women. I glanced in through the window and saw, on a shop mannequin, a top that Roshni simply had to wear. It was white, essentially a boob-tube but with a simple shoestring halter strap; it would leave the wearer's shoulders, arms, upper chest and back completely bare in the sexiest way.

"I'm going to buy you that top," I told Roshni. "And I want you to wear it for the rest of the day."

I could see reluctance on her face, in the way her thick eyebrows knotted slightly; the top would probably leave her more naked than she cared to be. But at the same time, it was a challenge to her, and she knew it.

Her pretty, plump lips twisted briefly into an expression of uncertainty, but then she nodded. "Okay." 

It was a quick process; I found Roshni's size -- impossibly-small -- and paid for it, then ripped off the tag and told her to get changed. Roshni ducked into a changing booth and emerged a few moments later in the halter top, handing me her discarded white blouse and the bra she had been wearing beneath it.

She was the sexiest sight, and it took my breath away.

Her petite body was hugged divinely by the boob-tube top, its little halter string knotted in a bow at the nape of her neck. Her brown skin looked beautiful and dark aganst the white garment, her long and slender legs left wonderfully bare by those tiny shorts. When she turned and regarded herself in front of the shop mirror, the halogen downlights caught the small mounds of her breasts and highlighted their shape, unsupported but firm. Her nipples poked unmistakeable grape-sized bumps in the fabric. Her body was proportioned like a model. The lights also caught the tiny downy hairs that softened every inch of Roshni's bare skin. 

The top was quite short, and, as her little shorts rode relatively low on her slim hips, there was a ten centimetre span of her flat, firm belly now exposed. Curling out over the top of her shorts were a few black pubic hairs, and then the tiny fluffy hairs of her dark little treasure trail, leading up to her belly-button; and even a soft dark fuzz on her belly above it.

"What do you think?" Roshni asked me with a bright smile. 

She knew what I thought. She could see the bulge in my pants. But Roshni had other admirers, even the shop assistances were looking on with envy.

"That top looks so good on you!" one remarked.

"Thanks!" Roshni beamed.

I could see what was coming. Roshni lifted both hands to the string-tie at the nape of her neck, to adjust and refasten the bow. The shop assistant nearly choked as she saw the heavy brushes of black hair in each armpit, the other stifled a giggle; I could tell that both were shocked.

Roshni winked at me and took her time adjusting the string-tie. It was her style to flaunt and flash her hairy underarms in situations like this. She loved the fact that it challenged people's ideals of beauty, but that they couldn't deny her sexiness.

"Come on, Baby -- let's go!"

Roshni had flaunted enough. Moments later we were walking hand-in-hand down Queen Street. Almost everybody noticed her; men and women alike. Some tried quick glances, others just stared, eyes magnetised to Roshni's lithe and taut little body, her brown limbs, her tight little breasts and barely-there butt; the dark trail of hairs leading down below her belly-button, a clue to the abundant pubic bush hidden inside those little shorts. Those who were lucky enough got close enough to see the wheat-field swirls and patterns of fine downy hair on her arms and on her back. Although she had far more fuzz on her body than most women, on Roshni it was beautiful.

From time to time, as we continued our shopping, Roshni would again adjust her hair, or find some other excuse to lift her arm. Even if she put her hands on her hips or rested them on the curve of her butt, people noticed the dense black nest of coarse hair in the deep hollow of her undearm. It was impossible not to, and Roshni struck those poses purely for the reaction she would get -- sometimes shock, sometimes pure and barely-concealed arousal.

Near Vulcan Lane, a couple of businessmen sat on a pedestrian bench watching passers-by. Roshni stopped, only paces from them, and proceeded to untie and re-tie her ponytail, both arms lifted as she did so. Without even realising it, both men stared like kids at a candy store, eyes wide and mouths open. Roshni pretended not to see them, her raised arms presenting the dense, tangled hair in her dark armpits, her small breasts lifted and straining against her little white top, her nipples poking their half-inch nodes in the tight fabric.

I kept my distance, only glancing occasionally, enjoying the show equally myself. But I also knew that in this display was the secret to Roshni's confidence: control. As long as she chose who saw her armpit hair, and for how long, and in what manner, she was okay.

But I suspected that the situation would be very different if the control was no longer hers. Perhaps cruelly, I decided to find out. 

I pretended to suddenly notice my watch. "Oh no! Our train leaves from downtown in three minutes!"

Suddenly distracted from the display she was giving the businessmen -- probably to their great disappointment -- Roshni let her arms drop and looked at me. "We're going?"

"Quick, we can still make it!"

I grabbed her hand, and started to run.

In shorts, sandals and such a little top, Roshni had no difficulty running with me, dodging through the crowds along the footpath, her ponytail bobbing up and down as she went. She enjoyed it, although quickly became out of breath: it was about four blocks and we had to run fast to cover the distance.

At Customs Street we jaywalked; Roshni was panting already, but I made her run the last sixty metres or so to Britomart. The foyer clock showed 4:29 -- less than one minute until the train's scheduled departure.

"Quickly!"

I led her in a hurried dash down the escalators into the depths of the station: our train was still on the platform, its doors open, but all the passengers were already inside and the guards hurrying the final few aboard. Roshni was laughing as we cleared the bottom of the escalator and along the platform to the train.

"Oh god, now I'm all sweaty!" she declared as we made it, just in time, in through the doors of the train: the alarm sounded, and the doors closed. But her voice quickly trailed off as she looked through the carriage and realised that it was full.

Every seat was taken; the areas around the doors were already crowded with standing passengers, and the only place for us to stand was further down the carriage, between the seats. Roshni sent me an anxious look, but I shooed her to the nearest free space, at the same time making sure we were well away from any upright handrails. The only handrail was the one that ran overhead.

Now, Roshni looked frantic. I could see she was looking around for a hand-hold lower down; suddenly, in her tiny tight top and her next-to-nothing shorts, she was very much the centre of all the passengers' attention, and all the control had been taken away from her. I could see tiny flashes of sweat in the downy hair down the side of her jawline, and above her lip. There were even sequins of sweat on her bare shoulders and amidst the soft fuzz on her upper back. Roshni was suddenly self-conscious, and sought to fold her arms across her breasts to hide the bumps her nipples poked in her tight top.

With a sudden jolt, the train started away. Roshni stumbled, and instinctively grabbed the overhead handrail.

Two dozen pairs of eyes locked into the black hairy hollow of Roshni's armpit.

With Roshni's over her head; there was no way she could hide her hairy underarm from her fellow passengers. Jaws dropped, people swapped glances with each other, and I even heard several gasps and giggles as the train gathered speed.

Even I couldn't help but stare. Roshni's slim, brown bare arm raised, the firm ridge of her pectoral creating one flank of the dark ravine in which her untamed thatch of thick black hair grew. Below that, her lifted ribcage: atop it, hugged by the thin fabric of her too-tight top, the slight swelling of her breasts and the unmistakeable nubs of her proud nipples -- that not only poked visible bumps in the fabric, but the darkness of her areolae were quite plain to see. The unforgiving fluorescent lights of the carriage clearly lit the fine fuzz that softened her arms and thighs, glinted off the downy hairs below her navel that led in a thickening trail inside her tight little shorts.

Resigned to her predicament, Roshni fixed her eyes to the floor. She knew that she was the focus of everyone's amusement, reduced by public scrutiny to something of a freakshow, and now all of her school-days' self consciousness returned with a vengeance. Roshni was incapable of blushing, but I could see the droplets of sweat crowding across her brow and I knew that she was profusely embarrassed.

As if the exposure wasn't bad enough, Roshni was still out of breath from her run downtown. As her chest heaved, it only drew more attention to her small breasts and the prominent bumps of her nipples. And then, quite clearly, from the stark, thick brush of hair sprouting from her exposed armpit, a cloudy droplet of sweat slid, following the brown gully of naked skin to the white of her top, leaving a visible trail that glistened under the carriage lights.

And so it was, for the duration of the ride. Roshni standing in the middle of a crowded train in short-shorts and a tiny white halter-top, her arm raised so she could hold onto the handrail, her hairy and now very sweaty armpit offered to her fellow passengers' eyes. What the run had started, Roshni's embarrassment amplified: when Roshni was nervous or embarrassed, she sweated heavily.

Even from where I stood, two metres away, I could clearly see the glistening dewdrops of perspiration amidst the heavy feathers of black hair in Roshni's armpit. Another trickle slid down towards her top. Her upper chest was shining wet. Her throat was gleaming. 

Roshni chewed her lip, trying to wish herself out of her predicament; but there was no escaping it. I could hear the whispers of passengers commenting on her -- and the comments weren't kind. 

God, that's gross! I heard; and, hasn't she ever heard of a razor? Followed by, what a shame, she's so pretty!

I was sure Roshni could hear the comments, too. Her thick eyebrows were angled down in a half-frown of concentration as she fought to ignore it all, but I knew she could feel the sweat oozing on her skin, and there were quickly-growing half-moons in the fabric of her halter top beneath each arm.

The train jolted and shuddered on its journey, and Roshni was obliged to hold the handrail above her head the entire time. Slowly her expression shifted from desperate embarrassment to total acquiescence; effectively surrendering herself to her embarrassment. Still the sweat came, though, bold streaks of wetness running from the saturated hair in her underarm to the soaked edge of her top.

After a while, her arm tired, Roshni swapped hands. As she lifted her other arm and grasped the handrail overhead, it was to reveal the sweat-matted carpet of her armpit hair; the entire hollow of her underarm was wet with her perspiration. The hairs, where not glued to her armpit with sweat, clung in little black twists and wet curls. The side of her top was visibly wet in a half-moon, and I even thought for a moment that I could smell her, musky and fresh but unmistakable.

I couldn't help smiling; at that moment I felt blessed to have that beautiful woman as my lover. I wondered if these passengers knew that this dark-haired, dark-eyed tawny goddess sucked my cock every morning when we woke; or that I licked the crinkled little star of her arsehole until she shrieked her orgasms into the pillow; or that the sweat that trickled so visibly down the gully of her armpit was mine to drink? 

The train eventually pulled up at our station; Roshni couldn't get off the train soon enough, and we hurried home.

"God, that was so embarrassing!" Roshni squealed when we finally arrived home. There were tears in her eyes. "I wanted to curl up and die!" Dropping onto the sofa, she hid her face in her hands, and then said something that surprised me: "I am so turned on!"

So was I.

I had to kiss her, and the way she pushed her tongue inside my mouth betrayed her arousal. As I kissed her on the sofa, Roshni raised both her arms, cupping her own elbows with her hands so that she locked her arms above her head. Straight away, I could smell the nervous sweat in her armpits, more aromatic than any other. It was the scent of a goddess.

Roshni's dark lips were parted and swollen with arousal as I broke from the kiss and plunged my face into the humid hollow of her right armpit. The thick hair felt like hot, wet wool. I breathed it deeply, feeling the heat of her underarm on my nose and mouth, drawing in the slightly acidic smell of her sweat. Roshni sighed and shuddered, 

This close, I could see the intimate detail of Roshni's armpit; each individual hair, black and thick, growing distinctly in two directions; one clump following her upper arm, the other tapering down the gully between her pectoral and deltoid muscles. Below, the gentle ravine of muscle was streaked with her free-running sweat, ending in the white of her brand-new halter top now soaked in a huge circle below her raised arm.

I had to taste her; gently I put out my tongue and touched it to the hot skin below her armpit, licking along the wet line of sweat. It tasted salty-sour, the most arousing taste imaginable. Roshni moaned at the sensation.

"Taste me, drink me," she pleaded.

I nuzzled up through the thick heavy bush of her armpit hair, a soft wet brush spreading its musky scent over my face, my tongue diving into the intimate depths of her underam to taste her. Roshni groaned again, squirming her hips, her arousal growing by the second. She arched her back, her arms still clamped together above her head to bare the hairy dark hollows of her armpits, her nipples straining through the damp fabric of her halter top.

I tongue-kissed the hairy nest of Roshni's armpit, searching out each salty droplet of her precious sweat, then sucked the thick hairs into my mouth, drawing out the pungent flavours of her body, worshipping and savouring her divine juices. Roshni sighed and moaned with her pleasure, her chin lifted, her fingers gripped her elbows keeping her arms up. When I shifted to her other armpit, she gave a soft cry of arousal, urging me to drink her perspiration and suck the thick tufted hair for its aromatic nectar.

While I drank the secretions of her armpits, my hands explored Roshni's petite slender body; the bones of her hips, up over the softly-furred plain of her belly, feeling the firm corrugations of her ribcage and the tiny swells of her breasts. Through the fabric of her top I toyed with the swollen stubs of Roshni's nipples.

I tongued and teased Roshni's armpit as if it was her pussy, kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin and drawing her sweat from every pore, and it had the same effect on her: her back was arched, her moans deepening as her arousal swelled. When I sucked her thick armpit hair into my mouth and tugged gently, then licked through the intimate creases of her underarm, searching out the last droplets of her divine sweat, Roshni's orgasm finally hit, and she lifted her hips from the sofa, crying out in pleasure, driven to orgasm by the mere attentions of my tongue in her sensitive armpits.

Roshni was spent, but I was still aroused as hell. Her tight, hairy brown little body demanded exploration from head to toe, from the long soft hairs on the back of her neck and down the side of her face, to her pale-soled feet.

"Turn over, Baby," I told her. 

Roshni rolled onto her stomach, resting her head on her arms so that I could explore her. I lifted aside her ponytail and kissed the back of her neck; the fluffy dark hairs that grew there were soft and long, dwindling to the thick fuzz that followed the length of her spine. Fine little hairs even curled over the thin halter-string of her top. I grasped one end of the string with my teeth and tugged; the knot slid free and the string tie fell away, leaving her neck and upper back completely exposed.

Roshni's shoulder blades and back were covered in a soft fuzzy down, and I kissed her warm peach-like skin, getting more and more turned on. Roshni sighed and squirmed under my kisses. Her pert little butt pressed into me, her bare thighs rubbing against each other as her arousal returned.

I turned Roshni over again, and eased her top up over her head. Her little ribcage, the stark ridges of each delicate bone beneath her soft brown skin, her tiny pert breasts with their dark thimble-sized nipples were bared to me. I took one into my mouth, a warm and firm nub that was rubbery to suck on. Roshni groaned.

I feasted on her breasts until each was wet, then kissed my way down the fluffy little trail of her sternum to her navel, where thickening hairs led from her belly button down to those cute little shorts. I kissed and nipped at her belly, kissing the little spider-trail hair. My fingers eased over the top of her shorts and began to draw them downwards; Roshni lifted her hips to help me.




Roshni Ch. 05



Slowly I stripped my beautiful Indian babe naked; baring her hairy crotch, a thick black carpet of tight and tangled pubic hair. Even as Roshni's slim brown thighs parted, the black curls completely hid her secret treasures. I pushed my face into her bushy pubes. I breathed her scent, musky and beautiful, I savoured the feeling of the wiry curly black hairs against my nose and lips. It was a divine forest, the hairy nest of my dusky goddess. My mouth found the soft, swollen treasure of her pussy, and I licked at her little pink clit, sucking it, drawing the dense hairs that guarded it into my mouth and tugging gently on them, and Roshni squirmed and moaned. She opened her thighs wider and lifted her hips, unrestrained in her pleasure, silently pleading me to lick her thoroughly. My tongue searched and probed between her pussy lips, then lower still; the tight and hairy star of her anus. Roshni nearly screamed when I licked it, her hands grasping at her hair, her arsehole flinching and flexing at the wet slurping of my tongue. Her taste was clean but musky, sweat infused with the flavours of her body.

"Don't stop!" Roshni gasped; she put her own hand into the tangle of her pubic bush and began masturbating, without a hint of self consciousness, touching herself while I licked at her hairy anus. The tiny corrugations and ridges of her sphincter twitched at the probing, wet slurping of my tongue, and Roshni gave a belly-deep growl of swelling arousal, her masturbation quickening. Her left arm was flung over her head, and she plunged her own nose into the hairy nest of her armpit, deeply inhaling her own scent of slightly-sour sweat and pheromones.

"Oh god ... oh god ..." Suddenly, Roshni's voice signalled a second orgasm. "Lick it! Lick it!" she screamed, her left hand suddenly grasping my hair and pushing my face hard between her parted legs, until my nose was buried in her pussy and my tongue was almost inside her rectum. I licked and sucked on her anus and orgasm surged, her hips jerking and her belly spasming up and down with desperate gasps of air as she came.

Finally the orgasm finished and I was able to grab breath myself, a long string of saliva linking my face with her well-licked and hair-matted anus. Roshni's skin was shining and she was breathing hard. I was hard as wood, now, and ready to explode just at the sight of Roshni's petite and furry brown body, dark and slender; her broad black triangle of pubic hair, the dark bushes beneath the pits of her raised arms, the chocolate thimbles of her nipples, her beautiful face with high cheekbones and slender nose, pouting brown lips and thick black eyebrows, and the tangled halo of her black hair flung across the sofa. I was tempted to just jerk off while gazing at her, but her coal-dark eyes shone at me.

"I want you to cum in my armpit hair," she begged. 

It was an invitation that I didn't need to hear twice. With Roshni's arms again folded above her head, both thickly-hairy armpits bared to my sight, she was impossible to resist. I stripped in moments, my cock like an iron bar.

"In my mouth," Roshni said. "Fuck my mouth!"

She turned her head so that her nose and mouth were nestled against the hairy feathers of her perspiring left armpit. I knelt alongside her and slowly slid my cock across her armpit, groaning at the touch of the soft thick hairs and the hot wet skin. Roshni's pink tongue licked at the head of my cock, gathering her own armpit hairs in the process. Slowly I pushed my cock into her willing mouth; she sealed her lips around it, her eyes closing in bliss as I began to gently slide in and out, making love to her sweet little mouth while her armpit hairs brushed the underside of my cock on every stroke.

Her mouth was hot, her lips tight around my shaft, her tongue surging around the head of my cock as I began pumping faster, harder, driven by the rising pressure. I began fucking Roshni's mouth without thought, driving deeper and deeper, all the while gazing in awe at the dark brushes of sweat-wet hair in those muskily-odorous armpits of hers, feeling the way the hair teased my cock.

Faster and faster; Roshni began moaning, gulping, her mouth deeply fucked now as I drove my cock all the way to her throat. I could feel the surging ejaculation as my breath quickened. The sweat now glistened on Roshni's face, beneath the dark hairs that lined the side of her jaw, fresh cloudy sweat sliding down the graceful contours of her body from her armpits.

I thought of how she had looked on the train; scantily dressed in that little white tube-halter top, those short-shorts baring her long brown legs, her toned midriff with its dark peach-fuzz and spider-trail on display, but most of all with her arm stretched over her head, the thick, wet, matted hair of her underarm presented to a carriage-full of commuters and her goddess' scent filling the air ... Now, here she was, naked in front of me, those lovely arms locked above her head and those hairy armpits bared to me, her little breasts riding pertly on top of her ribcage with their fat chocolate-brown nipples poking into the air, her fuzzy belly hollowed above the thick black carpet of her pubic bush, sucking my cock into her mouth.

It was all too much and with a gasp I drew my cock from Roshni mouth just in time for the first jet of cum to shoot into her exposed armpit, a glistening stream that spilled across the tangled hairs. I grabbed my cock and pumped myself, shooting a second gob across Roshni's sweaty underarm; her open mouth searched her armpit as well, and she caught some cum on her tongue just as the third jet splashed into the deepest thicket of hairs. I emptied myself across Roshni's armpit, until there was nothing left to give her, and she nestled her nose and mouth against her own underarm, breathing our mixed aromas with a look of bliss on her face.

Now I was spent, and bent to kiss the flat fluffy belly of my dusky Indian goddess. She sighed and giggled. I rested my head on her bare stomach, my fingers combing through the heavy tangle of her pubic hair, drawing the thick hairs out to their full four-inch length, then watching them spring back into tight curls. I could smell her aromas of fresh sweat and femininity, I could feel the thud-thud-thud of her heart.

I closed my eyes; we needed a few minutes to recover before we could fuck again.



Roshni Ch. 06



Roshni 06 - Sweat

Late February. The hottest, most humid time of the year in Auckland.

Roshni was working in the gift shop when I called in to see her. The first thing I noticed was the sheen of sweat on her brown face, then the light in her eyes as she saw me.

"Hi!" she sang.

Roshni's face was gorgeous beyond words. Eyes glittering black, like polished coals; highlighted by the thick black bars of her eyebrows. Her eyebrows were superb: at the bridge of the nose, they were perhaps a centimetre wide, the hairs strong and black, and the thickness was maintained until, near her temples, they tapered neatly, almost ruler-perfect. There were soft, downy hairs above her lip, an irresistible, cute moustache, and longer, fluffier hairs down either side of her jaw. Her long, rich black hair was pulled back, fastened neatly on top of her head.

She wore her usual shop clothing: a white sleeveless blouse that left her shoulders and arms bare. And that was no bad thing: shining with sweat, her arms were beautiful. Graceful, slender, shaped by slim and feminine muscle: firm shoulders, the long taper of her forearm softened with fine black hairs to her wrists. Her upper arms and shoulders were fuzzed with tiny hairs that stood constantly like the bristles of a brush. 

Against the brown of her skin, her crisp white blouse was a superb contrast. It was clear that she wasn't wearing a bra -- there was no need, her breasts were tiny, just tiny buds at the apex of her ribcage -- her brown-black nipples, like hard blackcurrents, were visible through the white of her blouse, darkly poking bumps in the cotton.

She wore a mini-skirt, A-line, below which her magnificent, gleaming legs stretched to strappy high-heel shoes. Her thighs, muscled and slender: her calves, long and sleek, slim ankles, dainty feet with red-painted toenails.

"Oh, it's so hot, today!" Roshni complained, and put up both hands to air out her armpits. It was then that I saw the condition of her blouse: there were huge circles of sweat under the arms, the cotton soaked. Poor Roshni must have been very uncomfortable. Raising her arms had bared her heavy-hair-matted armpits; the dense black bushes slicked as if with glue to the skin. The aroma of her sweat reached me, musky and sexy.

"You're so gorgeous when you sweat," I told her.

"It's okay for you," she grumbled. "I have a break, soon. Wait for me out the back."

The office, behind the service counter, had a two-way mirror. Safely concealed behind it, I had an excellent view of Roshni as she served. I could see the gloss of sweat beneath the fine dark hairs at the nape of her neck.

A customer arrived, and Roshni started gift-wrapping his purchase. She was a wonder to watch; the shine of her bare skin, the sweat-circles under her arms. She smiled and chatted with the customer: I saw her smile, the shine of her white teeth.

Finally, the shop was empty, and Roshni hurried through into the office.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "So hot!" She clasped her hands on top of her head to ventilate her armpits again, and from where I sat I had the best possible view of her sweat-circled blouse, her shining arms, the plastered hair in her armpits.

"You," I told her, standing, "are utterly gorgeous."

Still with her arms raised, Roshni lifted her face for my kiss. She was eager and hungry, her full and chocolate-sweet lips soft against mine, her pink tongue urgently probing inside my mouth. I lightly closed my hands around her shoulders, so that I could lightly squish my thumbs through the wet hair of her armpits: it felt like hot, wet wool. Breaking from our kiss, Roshni sighed in ecstasy. I put one wet thumb to her lips, and she hungrily sucked her own salty and sour sweat. In the heat of this tiny room, her aroma was strong, heady, and sexual, enough to make my head spin.

As I watched, Roshni slid down my body, to kneel at my feet. She unfastened my jeans, and eased out my cock. 

Bliss swept over me as her hot, wonderful mouth closed over my penis, taking it as deeply as she could. Just the sight of her, sweaty, on her knees, her brown skin and dark eyebrows, eyes closed, and her dark-chocolate lips wrapped around me, sliding back and forth, a heavenly blow-job the way only Roshni could do. The sequins of perspiration glinted in the fluff of her tiny moustache.

I put my hands on the shoulders of her blouse, feeling her hot, damp skin through the cotton. She wrapped her furry arms around my hips, taking my cock so deeply into her mouth that I was hitting the back of her throat. I fucked her beautiful face like that for ages. Her tongue, flat, caressed the underside of my cock with every pass, so that gradually I felt the unstoppable building pressure deep in my groin.

Roshni sensed it, and slowed down, her mouth moving smoothly along the length of my shaft, so that the tension built further and further, until I was shaking, weak at the knees. With a gasp, I came inside her mouth, shooting everything I had into her, and she swallowed it all, still pumping me, until I was completely empty.

She finished by licking my cock from tip to base, enjoying every moment, aroused but making herself wait for the reward that would be hers.

Another customer entered the shop, so Roshni hurried out, straightening her skirt. It was a man, and I watched his reaction, through the office window, as he saw her. Naturally, he was impressed by her dark beauty. I saw the T-mark of sweat in the back of her blouse as she stood, chatting to him. After a short time, he asked about a product, and pointed to a pepper-grinder on a high shelf.

Roshni was forced to stand on tip-toes and reach up to fetch the pepper-grinder down: as her lithe body stretched, the man stood beside her, his eyes feasting on her. His eyes travelled up her brown and shapely legs, her beautiful tight arse in its little black skirt, her slim waist. He could not have missed the huge circles of sweat under her arms, nor the thick bushes of hair in her armpits as she stretched. Her odour must have filled the air, and he seemed to be utterly seduced by it. When she handed him the grinder, he was looking straight down at her blouse, the twin swells of her tiny breasts and the unmistakable bumps her dark nipples made in the cotton. I wasn't the only one getting turned on: when Roshni walked back towards the counter, he slipped a hand into his pocket, still staring at her, and I knew it wasn't a wallet he played with.

Roshni rang up the till and bagged the pepper-grinder, and wished the customer good-bye, then leaned forward as he said something quietly to her. Her response was to shake her head, and he smiled, shrugged, and left the store.

A moment later, Roshni was back in the office with me. There were droplets of sweat along her hairline, clustered in the barely-there fluff of her little moustache. "That guy asked me out on a date," she explained.

"I'm not surprised," I told her. "You're so beautiful!"

"Thank you, baby!" Roshni stretched her arms around my neck and kissed me again, her tongue probing into my mouth. I could smell her pungent sweat, her skin, and I could feel her firm little breasts pressing against me. 

"Let me smell your pits," I demanded. Roshni eagerly stretched her arms above her head. The musky odour of her underarms radiated out; I had never known it so sharp and strong, but I couldn't get enough of it. I pushed my face into the hot, wet, hairy hollow of her left armpit and breathed deeply. The acidic smell filled my senses and made my head spin. It was a turn-on that made my aching cock throbbingly hard again. I licked through the thick, acrid bush and her musky-sour flavour filled me. Roshni moaned at the feeling of my tongue in her armpit, arching her back and thrusting her shoulder forward to press her hairy pit into my face. I french-kissed her underarm, gathering the thick hairs into my mouth and drawing her pungent sweat out, my tongue searching out the sensitive salty skin.

I moved to her right armpit and sucked on the saturated black hair, swirling it with my tongue, gathering her flavours and sourness. The hairs tickled my nose and cheeks, spreading her sweat and scent on my face like a soft wet brush. I could have spent hours simply lost in Roshni's hairy armpit, surrounded by the smells and tastes and textures of her body; the ripeness of a day's sweat, salty-fresh skin that had never been scoured by a razor or tainted by chemicals. My tongue savoured the roughness of the thick hairs bedded in such soft and sensitive skin, Roshni groaned and gasped with arousal.

"Kiss me!"

Her hot mouth found mine and her lips sucked at my lips; her tongue drove inside my mouth as she searched her own armpits' sourness. She moaned in pleasure, turned on by her own musk and flavour. My hands roamed the back of her blouse, feeling how it clung to her sweaty back and ribcage; she was oozing sweat from every pore. 

Finally, her arms still locked over her head, her face and throat wet with sweat and her bare arms gleaming all the way down to the sweat-slicked hair of her bushy armpits, Roshni threw her head back and panted breathlessly, "fuck me, please!"

She didn't need to ask twice. Where she stood I hitched her little skirt up, drew her sweat-wet knickers down so that they slid down her long brown legs to her ankles. Between her slim thighs was the thick, fleecy mass of her pubic hair, the dark straggles hanging down like vines in a tropical forest.

Putting her bare salty arms around my neck, Roshni jumped up to wrap her thighs around my waist, and just for a moment she clung to me, the thick tangle of hair between her legs teasing my cock, until she slowly lowered herself, impaling herself on me. I felt my cock pushing between her swollen, slick lips, and driving deep into her. She gave a shuddering groan of pleasure.

We fucked like animals, Roshni's small body hanging off me, her hot and wonderful pussy taking my full length, her ample mass of pubic hair crushed against me as I thrust and pushed into her, making her gasp and moan. Her wet and furry arms were wrapped my neck, the sweat wet on her throat and streaking glistening trails down into the open front of her blouse, her black eyes glittering, her heavy eyebrows furrowed with ecstasy. 

"Harder," she urged me. "Fuck me harder!"

I backed her against the wall, and started pounding into her, so hard that our pubic bones collided with every thrust. Roshni loved it, her lovely face alive with pleasure, her heels dugging into me as she squeezed and kicked to encourage me. Little droplets of sweat oozed out from the tangled hairs in her hollowed armpits, dripping to the floor or sliding down her gleaming skin towards the armholes of her blouse. More sweat trailed down through the dark fluffy hairs that followed the line of her jawbone.

We were both panting for breath, Roshni's hairy pussy gripping me with its slippery welcome. Grasping one elbow, I pushed Roshni's arm straight up over her head and pushed my face into her armpit. Her skin felt burning hot, her underarm hair squishing against my lips and nose, the pungent, salty flavour of her sweat filling my senses. I drove my tongue deep into her armpit, circling and swirling the hairs, exploring the little creases in the soft and sensitive skin, sucking her acidic sweat until it covered my face. My cock hammered deep into her, as the sweat rolled down her body.

Roshni was gasping, "yes! Yes! Oh, yes!" as her orgasm rolled and surged for half a minute, her eyes shut, her mouth open, her fingers digging into my shoulders.

I pushed deep into her, and exploded, emptying myself deep inside her, she accepted it gratefully, kissing my face and lips, still wrapped around me, my hands caressing her firm and furry arse.

For a time, we stayed like that, me still inside her, kissing and nuzzling. The smell of her sweat filled the air; her body was humid and wet in my arms. 

Then, another customer.

"Oh, shit," said Roshni, and climbed off me. She pulled down her skirt, but couldn't find her knickers, so without underwear, she hurried out into the shop again. This time, it was a young woman, a gorgeous blonde. Roshni glanced back towards the office with a look of despair.

This, I had to see.

I placed a chair right next to the mirror-window, and watched eagerly as the girl asked Roshni for some item or other. Poor Roshni looked as if she had just done twelve rounds in the boxing ring: what had once been circles of sweat under the arms of her blouse were now huge patches of wet that spread halfway down her sides: the back of her blouse was glued to her spine, the front of it equally soaked. Her bare arms were actually wet, the fine hairs pasted to her brown skin. There were rivulets running from her underarms, droplets on the back of her neck. Roshni was so embarrassed. The blonde must have wondered if the Indian girl serving her had a glandular condition. Roshni's refusal to wear deodorant didn't help the situation; her smell must have filled the air.

Then, when Roshni turned her back to me again, I noticed a huge T-mark of sweat on the back of her skirt, clearly marking the cleft of her buttocks. I knew Roshni would be well aware of the way she looked, and the humiliation must have been unbearable. Certainly the blonde looked highly amused.

When the customer had gone, I emerged from the office, straightening my clothes.

"Are you going already?" Roshni asked.

"I'll see you tonight, at home."

"What about my sweaty clothes?" Roshni held out her arms.

I smiled, and looked at a wall-clock. "You'll be finished in another three hours."

Roshni was not going to have a comfortable afternoon.