Twisting Hair

Hey again! This is a little intimate piece; I love doing my family's hair, but it feels different when you're doing it for a significant other. As usual, let me know what you think!

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"Yo girl... you got a pen? Cuz I'm tryina give you my John HanCOCK if you know what I mean."

"Ishy I will throttle you, come sit your goofy ass down."

"Aiight," he grins. I open my legs and he gets comfortable on the floor between them.

He's got water dripping onto his beater so I press the towel more firmly around his neck, and he pushes his broad shoulders back against the give of my thighs.

"What are we watching today?" Probably The Office. I don't even know why I asked.

"The usual." He shakes his head, sending droplets across my legs and feet, and I watch him scroll through the seasons for his favorite episode.

Looking at the dip in the nape of his neck, just visible underneath the tiny curls brushing his shoulders, I get a little hot. I mentally shake myself and get to work.

"Ishy, you want these curly?" I'm three rows deep into twisting his hair, and I need to start braiding the twists up if he wants them krinkly in the morning.

He's absent-mindedly twirling the drawstring on his sweatpants. "Yeah, that'd be cool," he says, shifting and dislodging his towel from one shoulder. I'm captivated by it: little brown freckles dusted over smooth skin. I want to bite it.

"I'm halfway through, you want a break?" We've been through another episode and a half of The Office and my butt hurts from sitting on this stool.

"Yeah, I'mma go get a beer, you want one?" Ishy's ass is thick as fuck; he'd be comfortable sitting on broken glass. I think about biting that too, as I wipe my hands on the towel.

"Nah, I'm good." I let my eyes linger on his uncovered torso, little curlicues of dark hair sprinkled all over his chest and down his stomach. "I'mma move to the bed and put some pillows down for you to sit on, because I'm about to fall apart on this chair."

"Damn girl, why you watching me like you want a piece of me?" He pretends to cover his body with his arms and half-turns away from me in mock disgrace.

I chuckle, still hot and getting hotter. "I'm tryina get your hair done but you lookin all fine for no reason over there. When I finish I wanna jump you."

His eyes light up. "Aw shit, my baby gonna sit on this-" I roll my eyes, trying not to match his kilowatt smile. "John HanCOCK!!"

"Go ahead and do whatever you gotta do, I'm not tryina be here all day."

"Nah, come here for a second." He's got his hands out, a smirk on his lips, and a plan in his eyes, with the crown of his hair still undone and damp on top of his head.

"We ain't never gonna get your head done if I come over there Ishy, go get your beer and come on back." I stand up and shake the pins and needles out of my legs.

He creeps over to me and hugs me from behind while I'm grabbing pillows from the recliner next to the bed. "Shoot, Fay, I'm tryina get your head done."

He runs his hands up and down my sides and over my breasts while I laugh into his mouth, but after a moment of giggling I go silent as he trails his hand down to cup my mound. I lean back against him, neck starting to strain from craning to meet his lips. He grips me firmer and strokes his index finger against me, and I rock into his hand.

"Go on, Ishmael, before I leave you looking like that." As much as I want to push him back into the bed not two feet from us, we only have two The Office episodes-worth of hair left to get through.

He pecks me once, twice, then slowly slides his hand from between my legs. It's his turn to stare as I look over my shoulder at him. "Alright, Fay, long as you stay thirsty for me."

"I ain't fuckin thirsty, you ass!" I yell at his retreating back.

He's back soon with two open beers and wordlessly hands one to me, tiger-crawling back in between my legs. I laugh and say, "I told you I didn't want one, fool."

"Yeah but I figured it'd slow us down. I wanted to love you slow today."

I wordlessly swig from my bottle, watching him smile and press play on his show.

I'm at the top of his head on the last couple of rows and on my third beer when he starts fucking with me. He runs his hand up my calf and back down, and I shake him off a couple of times before giving up.

"You almost done, Fay?"

"Gimme a minute." The front of his hair is longer than the rest, with looser curls. It's taking me a while, but the extra length gives him room to turn his head to kiss the tops of my knees.

"Fay."

His show went off a while ago, the "are you still watching?" text box in the middle of the screen. My breath hitches every time his fingers crawl up the back of my leg.

"Hold on, Ish, I got like one more row. And I still have to braid them."

"You don't have to curl it, it's fine straight." He darts his tongue out to taste my thigh next to him, and I squirm and scoot back to dislodge him.

I laugh. "Lemme finish, baby!"

He wraps a hand under and around my thigh to keep me still, leaning his head back against my crotch. "Okay."

My need and my love for him bleed together, seeing his quiet toothy smile. I run my hand down his face and sigh as he kisses my palm, resolving to finish as quickly as possible.

"Alright, lay back," he says, spinning around and unbuttoning his jeans at the same time. The last twist, half done, slips from my fingers, but I don't care at this point.

"Mmhmm." I slide my shorts down off my legs and he follows behind me at a breath's distance, hands already seeking out my thighs. He parts them and lays on his stomach in between them, my legs hanging over his shoulders and his hands folded on my stomach, head resting on my pelvis.

"What'd you want to do to me, Fay?"

He lazily strokes my stomach and I reach down and brush his hair back from his face. "I wanted to sit on that dick," I say seriously.

He grins even wider and plants a kiss directly on my mons, then on my lips. His breath whispers against my entire slit, already puffy and ready, and I sigh softly.

With my eyes closed, I feel his fingertips slide over my inner thighs as he plants innumerable kisses over me: the meeting of my hip and thigh; the very top of my triangle of dense hair. I lay still and groan, feeling him finally slide two fingers through my lips and parting them, tongue following close behind.

"Hmm," I moan. His tongue lingers at my center, dipping shallowly in before riding my inner labia up to my clit.

"Feel good, baby?" he asks sweetly, one finger tracing circles over my hip bone. The other hand spreads me even wider.

"Yeahhh," I breathe, his tongue tracing the same path back up, then back down. My right leg is clenching and unclenching on each pass.

I hear him huff and shift, and I crack my eyes open to watch him hunch his shoulders over me like he's eating at a table.

In one fell swoop he dives his tongue into my pussy, two fingers exposing my clit from under its hood to the cool air, and one finger lightly teasing the very tip of it while he eats.

"FUCK! Fuck, Ishy," I moan loudly, hips bouncing against the bed and sending his head bobbing against me, twists cascading over his shoulders. They're still damp, and the oil on them leaves a shiny trail on my thighs. I don't think this is going to wash out of the sheets.

He growls something into my pussy and plants a heavy hand over my lower stomach, immobilizing my upper body against the mattress while he secures my legs open with his forearms against my thighs. I cum loudly, legs shaking under his arms and hole clenched around his tongue. He wiggles it against my walls, returning to darting in and out of me as I come back down.

"Fuckin eat my pussy, baby," I groan from my chest. He raises his eyes to meet mine as I cup the back of his head, fingers soft against his hair. He lifts his face, tongue pointed, lapping at me like a cat to show the strings of wetness sticking to his face. My hands tighten in his hair before I remember that I just spent hours doing it.

I push back against his shoulders. "Alright, lemme ride."

"Happy trails," Ishy grins, face glistening and hands folded behind his head, his dick curving in a gentle arc up towards his stomach. I palm his smooth balls and climb over him, trailing my tongue against the hollows of his collarbone and throat before cleaning myself off of his face.

"I want to sit on it," I sing, hand slicked up from my own juices and sliding along his shaft. He chuckles darkly, watching me center myself over him.

His tip bursts into me and I savor the slide down, finally happy when our pelvises meet.

"Mmm," he grunts, swiveling his hips under me, grinding us together. I fall forward, one hand planted onto his chest and the other falling among his hair spread out across the bed.

"Let me work, Ish," I pant, rising up and getting to work. I rock against him on my descent, breath whooshing out when I feel his fingers idly reach under my clit and stroke up against it. "Fucking shit, sit still," I whine.

He tries to meet me as I grind down onto him, but I lean forward and put my weight on my hand pressed into the middle of his chest. I want to glide across every inch of his dick.

"Fay, I said I want slow and long, you gonna end this early," he grunts, fingers phantoms on my hips. I can tell he wants to take over.

"You a lie," I pant. "This is round one and I see you tryina flip us already. Just cum for me, baby, I'll take care of you." I change gears, rolling my hips violently and slamming down against him, feeling the ridges of him slide against my tight muscle. I squeeze sharply, and his hands finally take action, grabbing my hips by the handful and driving me down against him.

"Fuckin pussy," he grunts.

"Ish, the fuck?!" I complain but I cum a second time, arching rigid over him with my legs bent, knees at my sides. I take my hand off of his chest, planting it on the other side of his head, letting him manipulate me over his dick while I recover.

"We can go slow the second round," he offers. "I wanna fuck now." He sits up under me, stomach tightening under me, and I trail my hands against it, fingers sliding over his dick disappearing into me. I kiss him again and he lifts a hand to thread his fingers through my hair at the scalp, tongue battling with mine before he nips my bottom lip and returns to working me over.

It doesn't take too long for him to speed up, slamming up into me, pelvis grinding against my clit.

"Keep going," he tells me, one hand remaining on my waist and the other creeping up to cup a breast. I moan, wanting to arch my back into the heat of his hand, but catching sight of the shoulder I wanted to bite so badly hours ago. I lean forward, grinding and bouncing all the while, and nibble his earlobe, traveling down his neck and finally, gently surrounding the curve of his shoulder with my teeth. I climax again, points of my teeth digging sharply into his shoulder, and let go so I don't break the skin. I bring my hands up to his shoulders instead to pump on and off of him through the rest of my orgasm.

"I'm a snack?" he grunts, rolling my right nipple between his fingers and causing my pussy to quiver around him. He twitches, and I watch his eyelids flutter before he shoots up warm into me, handfuls of my flesh in his hands pulling me down firmly around his dick so that I feel the creamy splash saturate my walls.

I sit in his lap, feeling him soften in me, and our lips meet several times in the warm aftermath.

I drag the last half-done twist to the front of his head and finish it, Ishy staring amused into my eyes. "You a whole damn meal," I correct him. "And you can fuck me all you want but you still gotta wash these sheets, with your non-bonnet wearing ass," I try to smirk disapprovingly. The oils from his hair has left wet lines all over the sheets.

He slips out of me, and my legs shudder once more against him. "Okay, satisfied customer," he laughs, rolling his eyes and reaching for the iPad over the side of the bed.

"You right, now come the fuck here and let me braid your hair up."