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.)