Crimson and Clover

My new housemate is a bohemian by her own admission. She sunbathes in our backyard naked. That kind of bohemian.

Since I moved in, Bri's taken me to two hot springs and a nude beach, so we've grown accustomed to being naked around each other. Her level of comfort with her body is contagious, it seems. Some curvy girls spend their days pining for a different shape, but Bri treats her hips like bragging rights and her tits like prizes hard-won.

A few days ago I came home from work to Bri wrestling with a bottle of wine, trying to get it open. Between the two of us, we managed to uncork the thing, and she insisted that I have a glass with her. Bri spends many an evening watching movies, drinking red wine, and every time I walk in on her we talk about sharing a bottle sometime. Tonight's the night, she said.

I followed her into the living room, watching her skirt pitch and buck as her ass jiggled. Her ass makes me think of pears. We sat on the couch and let the spicy crimson wine push us down into the cushions. Bri looked relaxed, reclining on the couch, her chin nearly tucked in her soft cleavage.

"I've been so horny today," she said, giggling self consciously after she said it. "I don't even know why."

"I'd take it as a sign if I were you," I said. "A subtle signal from you body that it's time to get off."

"Yeah, and wine just makes me hornier. The warmth keeps going after it reaches my stomach and ends up in my pussy. I feel warm and horny and good. She looked at me with her wine slow brown eyes in a way that seemed to suggest something. Her soft body looked so comfortable, her tits rocking toward her face whenever she moved. I held the eye contact for a long time. I leaned toward her and spoke softly, "If you need to get off there's no sense in waiting."

"Help me then," she whimpered.

I ran my hand along her ample thighs. It was the first time I had touched her sensually and a shiver of excitement ran down my spine into my balls. I wanted to satisfy this confident beautiful woman. I wanted her juices all over my face and my hands all over her tits. Her thighs gave way to lavender panties as I pushed her skirt up slowly, and her pussy was indeed warm as I placed my cupped hand over her underwear. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the light pressure. I began to move my hand, pushing the heel against her pubic bone, feeling her push back.

As her wetness began to come through I got down on my knees in front of her and spread her legs apart. I continued to softly caress her pussy as I kissed the insides of her thighs. Bri took in a sharp breath as she felt me nibbling on her soft creamy thighs and let it out in a quiet hum. Her breasts stood like proud hills with her soft stomach a meadow in the foreground. I could see only her eyes above them like two shy suns.

I pressed my face against her warm moist panties and began rubbing her with my lips and chin, her aroma like clover. She responded by taking her breasts in her hands and moaning my name softly. "Take off your shirt," I said.

Her shirt came off revealing a black bra with a little bow between her tits. As the clasps snapped open and the bra came off, the proud hills parted revealing a cute wry smile. Bri's nipples stood hard, one of them pierced. She took them between her fingers and worked them as I pulled off her now soaked-through panties. I had seen her pussy before, at the beach, but I had never looked at it like this. I had never noticed how beautiful and tan it is, how smoothly she keeps it waxed. I wanted it in my mouth.

Bri looked down at me and ran her hands through my hair, "I'm going to thank you in advance for the orgasm I'm about to have." Then she pulled my face up to her wet warmth by my hair. Gentle violence, I thought as I tasted her pussy for the first time. Bri tasted so good. She tastes like my first lover did, which brings up many happy memories of heady young sex for me. I devoured her. She began to moan and writhe in earnest when I took her swollen clit into my mouth and ground my face from side to side. Her moans were pure bending tones. I suspected voice lessons in her childhood.

When I inserted one curved finger into her and increased my pressure on her clit she started to talk about her approaching orgasm. She said all kinds of flattering things to me while I sucked and massaged and finger-fucked her pussy, but I didn't want this to be about me. It was purely her; I was a sex toy, a means to an end. I figured out exactly what was going to make her cum and I drove her to the edge. I didn't stop driving to her until I felt her body fall off the cliff into the orgasmic aether. It's so thick there that it holds a body up, it envelopes it like thick pillowy clouds. All warmth and pleasure there. I squeezed her tits and slowed my pace, letting her enjoy the orgasm. It sounded like a good one.

Afterward I collapsed next to her, feeling very accomplished and satisfied despite never having done anything about my pressing hardon. No matter. We just sat slumped on the couch, remembering our neglected glasses of red wine, talking about her childhood for some reason. The wine tasted even better with her taste still lingering on my tongue. Crimson and clover.