Danika truly hasn’t thought of pubic grooming for a while. Oh, in the past, she’s clipped and waxed and shaved, had the landing strip, and suffered the prickles of grow back. But in recent months there’s been no need, and she hasn’t bothered. She likes herself mostly natural, just with an occasional trim.
Seeing Kim in seemingly natural glory is a revelation. Peer pressure, whispers with friends, a giggly appointment with Mirza one time when they both got Brazilians. She stillremembers Mirza’s abrupt, “Oh, fucking hell!” from the next cubicle and her own grunt of surprised pain as the wax was ripped away.
Yet here is Kim, with soft curls that look natural.
Beautiful. Affirming.
Kim pulls her close, and their breasts press together. Kim’s nipples are points of pleasure as they dig into her breasts. What will the rest of Kim’s body feel like against her?
She breaks the embrace, and with clumsy fingers strips off her own skirt, then her undies. Her big toe catches on the elastic, and she hops, inelegantly, balance lost until her knee rams into Kim’s bed, and she tumbles sideways onto the mattress.
Kim laughs. “I guess that’s one way of getting you where I want you.” She leans over Danika, pushes her shoulder until she rolls onto her back. Then she hooks her fingers into the elastic around Danika’s knees and tugs. The undies come away, and Kim drops them to the floor.
She flops down on the bed next to Danika. “Well, here we are then.”
“Here we are,” Danika echoes.
Kim runs her hand up Danika’s calf.
Danika’s glad she at least shaved her legs.
Then Kim’s hand travels higher, up the outside of her thigh, in a slow glide, and instantly, Danika is alight again, all thoughts of shaving and the mundane nature of pubic grooming gone from her mind, replaced by an urgent hammer of lust. She wants to kiss Kim, wants to learn her body, wants Kim to make her come. Wants Kim between her legs. Wants Kim to fuck her.
She wants.
Everything.
And she wants to give everything, too.
Kim is staring at her, and the want, the yearning, the reciprocal lust in her eyes makes Danika weak. She can’tremember when someone last made her feel like this—like she was the heart and soul of their universe, like she was pure sex, hot, desired, wanted.
But Kim’s heated gaze makes her feel those things and more.
Kim’s hand rests on Danika’s hip. She’s giving her time, she realises, and the consideration is kind but unnecessary. She takes Kim’s hand and moves it between her thighs. Then she clenches them, trapping Kim’s hand there.
Kim inhales sharply.
Danika looks down, over her belly, still slightly concave from the months of inadequate eating, when food just wasn’t important, to where Kim’s wrist is trapped. Kim’s fingers rest against Danika’s pussy, and she knows she is wet, so very soaked, and Kim must feel that too.
Kim wriggles her fingers slightly to free them, and the tips brush Danika’s lips. She releases her thigh clasp. Kim needs to move, after all.
Kim’s fingers brush gently across Danika’s lips again, and the touch is so gentle, so barely there, but equally it’s intense. Danika feels it between her legs, in her clit, although Kim has yet to touch it. But her entire sex is throbbing, and she wants more.
She pushes her hips upward, seeking.
“Impatient, huh?” The smile in Kim’s voice sparkles, and Danika smiles in response.
“I want it all.”
“And you’ll have it.” Kim’s fingers withdraw until they’re just barely brushing over Danika’s lips. “Tell me what you like.”
“Right now, there’s nothing I don’t like, as long as it’s you.” The words sit thickly in her mouth, slurring almost, with the force of her want. Has she just given Kim carte blanche to do whatever she wants? She has. “I trust you.”
“I won’t abuse that trust.” Kim’s fingers move in a gentle back and forth. “Tell me if I do anything you don’t like.”
“Unlikely.” Her clit pulsates with a heavy, insistent beat.
Kim sits back, her fingers falling away from Danika’s sex.
