Pruning

She held up her empty mug. "Of course I'll have another beer. Once is not enough – some female author once said that, I do believe. And thank you for the nice compliments – all of them. I'm blushing, you know – but you'll never see it – one advantage of being black!"

As he returned with the re-filled mugs, she said "If we were to have a tee-shirt contest with me in it, we'd have to put the contestants and judges upwind!"

He shrugged, then said "Not so, Madam. You're just soaked in clean sweat – nothing rancid about it. I kind of like clean sweat. It can be pretty sexy in the right circumstances."

She said nothing, just eyed him, then looked around the room, waved her hand to indicate the whole homestead and said matter-of-factly "You're married."

He nodded.

She waited, finally said "So?"

He shrugged and told her "OK, apropos of your spousal story, here's my tale. Married to a fine woman for over 25 years, quite reasonably passionate with one another for ten years, but it does lose its edge – even if we're still regular lovers these days. About fifteen years ago we both wound up in good careers that required a lot of travel, sometimes extended. Eventually we agreed that what happens outside the relationship isn't likely to destroy what we have. Don't ask, don't tell, and implied permission to play. You said earlier that all humans like to get a little strange tail on occasion – and you're correct. She's gone for the next three days. She's gone about half of most work-weeks nowadays."

Nicole eyed him over her mug, then said "A great theory, that arrangement. Very intellectually sound, I'm sure. How's it work in practice?"

He shrugged again: "So far, so good. Very well, actually. Obviously not for everyone, though. Nothing fancier, like swapping or multiples, just some freedom when beyond the fence. And no braggadocio. Mum's always the word."

The next five minutes of companionable silence broke when Glenn said "You know, I'm getting pretty sticky and you must be a lot more so. I'll happily loan you my shower – it's a big one, with double heads – if you'd be interested. That is, if that wouldn't interfere with you picking up Nikky, or with your social life, or something."

Nicole looked startled, then thoughtful. She replied after only a short moment's thought "Well! – It's a very nice offer indeed. Right out of the blue, but then, I'm beginning to expect such things from you. No, for sake of argument, actually, it wouldn't interfere with anything – tonight Nikky will be leaving school with her best friend and they'll spend the night at the friend's house. They do that back and forth every week, have for years. I just have to pick her up after school tomorrow. And..." She paused, took another sip. "Well, there's nobody else at home and frankly I'm not dating these days, so there's nobody else's schedule or feelings to worry about. I'd just be headed home to my own shower and cooking something for an early dinner. Then read, most likely."

She looked pensive: Glenn said nothing.

Nicole took a deep breath, sighed it back out, and suddenly giggled. "We're both ecologists of some sort. So - are you inviting me to an ecologically sensitive event, a green shower?"

He looked vaguely puzzled. "Oh, don't play at being naive, Glenn, it just won't wash! You know what I mean! Shower with a friend, conserve water, save the planet, all that silly eco-crap!"

He laughed: she liked the way his face crinkled around the eyes, it was a nice face, intriguing.

"I genuinely hadn't thought of that – truly! It was just me being friendly. But of COURSE I'd join and make it a twosome, if I were invited. In fact, I'd be delighted to shampoo your corn-rows – it'd be a new adventure for me!"

Nicole's belly began a slow flip-flop. She waited a longish moment and then said softly "Glenn, I suddenly find my stomach is full of butterflies. How about you?"

He nodded – "Mine, too – Monarchs, as a matter of fact. What species are yours?"

She smiled: "Tiger swallowtails, nothing less!" Then "You know, Glenn, that if I were to take you up on the offer, you just might not like what you see in there! I have these well-used old tits we've been discussing, and a traditional black woman's booty – a big round butt, and it sticks out. Plus I have a bit of a belly complete with stretch marks from Nikky. Black women do stretch marks better than anyone else on the planet."

"Damn Madison Ave and it's effects on women's self-imagery anyhow!" said Glenn, with some real low-key vehemence. She watched him closely – he obviously meant it, and that was very nice indeed. "I couldn't possibly care less about those things, Nicole – on you or any other interesting woman. Hell's bells, Lady, the same statement applies, and MUCH more strongly, to ME – I'm no bloody Adonis, you know! I've got at least 25 years on you, too – chances are much better that YOU might not like what you see!"

She instantly shook her head – she'd been watching him too closely now for too long, the signs of long-distance running and steady gym work were perfectly clear – long strong leg muscles, good shoulders, arms and belly. Still-youthful skin. And the most entrancing gentle mist of red-gold leg hairs – she'd been a sucker since way before puberty for that particular feature. He was, she thought, amazingly attractive in general, and especially given his years. An intriguing amalgam.

She said quietly "Not a chance I would object to that view! I can tell, believe me!"

Then she abruptly stood up, reached for Glenn's hand and pulled him to his feet, turned him to face her squarely. She grinned at him and said "I'd almost forgotten – we were speaking, amongst other things, of my butt. And I promised you a hug for saving that butt out there. Since we're both sweaty, and since I always pay my debts, here it is!" She pulled him to her, wrapped her arms around him – she was every bit as strong as he'd guessed. He responded equally, and they plastered together full length, with chins over one another's shoulders.

Nothing tentative about it – the hug lasted – and within a few seconds, she was rolling and tilting her pelvis against him ever so gently, testing the sudden blue-steel hardon trapped between them. He returned the investigation against her chest, enjoying the feel of her breasts changing shape as he wriggled slowly in her embrace.

Eventually she pulled back slightly, bringing their faces close together, sliding her hands upwards until they cupped his shoulders. He dropped his hands slowly down along her sides to her bottom – through the rough old canvas it felt amazingly good, solid and palm-fitting. He squeezed, she grinned and leaned against him harder. From so close, Glenn could distinctly get her personal scent – it went right to his reptilian brain and thence to the base of his cock. Plus a tiny hint of peppermint, probably toothpaste. Their breaths mingled.

Now far too close to focus, Nicole asked softly "So tell me, Good Sir – does Herr Doktor Professor von Homeowner like to kiss?"

Glenn nodded, not certain if it was actually the invitation it seemed. Just as quietly he said "Oh, yes, indeed he does. It's one of my favorite interpersonal sports. Kissing everywhere, everything. Lots of it, slow and luxurious, is the right way."

She smiled and breathed at him "Good answer. And pray tell, just exactly WHAT might the Good Doctor like to kiss?"

He let his face drift even closer to hers: she had full, extraordinarily sensual lips, magnetic at this distance. "Lots of things. Napes, backs of knees, spines from top to bottom, earlobes, armpits. Navels. Whatever M'Lady doth desire, in fact. The under-crease of a breast. Nipples, eyelids. But especially lips."

He paused, grinned, said "Lips – and that means all three sets."

She pulled him in the last inch or two, met him with mouth open and inviting and incredibly eager. They merged as if they were hungry teen-agers trying to devour one another.

When they surfaced after several minutes, she pulled back a little and said "Now, Sir, THAT is a companionable silence!" Then, "All three sets of lips? You're serious?"

He nodded: "More of Glenn's personal views? I happen to love eating pussy – I was taught right. Pussies are so beautiful, so complicated, so many textures and shapes, so changeable. Never the same twice on a woman, never even close to the same from one woman to another. And the responses – well, they are a real head trip; giving that much pleasure to a partner is an incredible aphrodisiac."

She sighed, tilted her head and said "Glenn, if you're being honest, then you're going to reinforce one of my own racial stereotypes!"

He waited, a quizzical look on his face.

"You've heard the saying 'black men don't eat pussy'?"

He nodded.

"Well, it seems to be true. Since my divorce I've done nothing but black men – not all that many, but a few. Several, that is. Swore off white men entirely, probably dumb but I did it, once burnt twice shy and all that. My white-boy husband could make me come like a damned banshee with his mouth, and he loved doing it. Hell, I positively adored it and was totally addicted. I'm sure it was a major reason I married him. Haven't seen any of that since he left, though. None of my black fellows has been the least bit interested – not at all. So - assuming you're being truthful, which I'm sure you are based on how nicely you kissed just now, well, there's another support for the little stereotype, n'cest pas?"

He didn't answer, just pulled her to him again, even more hungrily. Another longish companionable silence during which they discovered how to breathe alternately through one another's noses.

Then, breaking, she stepped slightly back and laid a hand on the tabletop, patting it, and looked at him completely deadpan. "So, Glenn, tell me – is this beautiful table of yours virginal?"

He looked puzzled, then got it and shook his head: "If you mean, have I ever fucked anyone on it, the answer is NO. Not that the thought hasn't occurred a few times!"

She patted it again. "That's terrible, a bad thing. Not acceptable! You should be ashamed, Doctor." A longish pause: "Now then - supposing I were to take YOU up on your offer, and supposing you were to take ME up on my counter-offer of eco-friendliness – and suppose that we're both pleased with what we see and find out about one-another in there... then, when we finish the shower, would you bring me back out here and fuck me silly on this slab of wood? With the curtains wide open just like they are now?"

Glenn quietly shook his head "no", and in answer to her surprised look he said "Only if we make love as well as fuck. Fucking by itself is nice, but I already feel like we should expect a hell of a lot more from one another and from us together. Can you agree to that?"

She laughed delightedly: "Absolutely! How about you lead us to that fancy shower of yours and we see what comes up? So to speak! Since some things are clearly already up..." She trailed her fingertips across his hardon.

Walking down the hall he wrapped an arm around her, slid his hand through the armhole and made the palm a living bra-cup, his fingers investigating under-crease and nipple. "Let's play adult for a second. How about contraception? I've had a vasectomy, but it's easy to lie about that."

She shook her head: "Not necessary anyhow. I had my tubes tied about six months after the divorce. Periods still, but no eggs in the target zone. Diseases? I'm squeaky-clean."

He shook his head negative, and opened the bathroom door.

She briefly eyed the shower – oversized, powerful sprays at both ends, streams converging in the center. "Nice! Shall we pretend it's Christmas and unwrap each other?"

He undid her heavy canvas pants, let them drop: she stepped out, kicked them aside, watched his eyes as they ran over her long legs and belly and cotton-covered bottom, liked his silent but oh-so-obvious approval. He held up his arms; she caught his tee-shirt, tugged it slowly up and over, and while his face was hidden she laid a long suck and nibble on his nipples. It obviously didn't do anything overly erotic for him, and she kissed him lightly again as the shirt hit the floor, saying "Too bad... Momma Nature sure did short-change you men in the nipple department. You should launch a protest! Maybe I got your share – a double dose. Sensitive, mine are - very."

Her arms went up overhead, her breasts lifting and swaying, inviting. He raised her shirt, her breasts finally came into full view. "Nicole, I haven't seen such a beautiful set of boobs, and nipples either, since God knows when. You can take your "saggy-baggy" commentary and stow it! You don't know from nothing about saggy, Lady. Lovely, lovely! Got to test the nerves, though." He dipped his head, cupped a hand under each tit, raised them towards his mouth.

She was surprised when he went not for her nipples but for the dark, sweaty crease, then around the side-bulges, over to the very edges of her pits. He knew what he was doing, by God! By the time his lips finally arrived to take possession of them, her nipples were screaming urgently but silently for attention. They got it, and then some - teeth, lips, tongue, suction, palate. She'd never been so close to climaxing just from nipple play – it was all so intense it was on the edge of scary.

Finally he stopped, squatted, turned her butt towards his face, put his hands on her underpants' waistband. She watched in the big mirror where they made an extremely erotic tableau, waggled her bottom and murmured "Big enough butt for you?"

He tugged the elastic downwards, bit her exposed almost-ebony buttocks playfully but firmly and muttered "Now you stop that! It's an absolutely beautiful butt." He leaned back and she stepped out of the panties. He ran his hands over her calves, then thighs, up the long complex sweaty curves of her spine and back down, then lovingly over her bottom as she watched: he painted a word picture for her of what he was seeing and feeling - strong, solid calves and thighs with no fat twixt muscles and skin. Perfectly gorgeous skin texture and color. A fine leg-shave, too, a definite plus in his taste-book. He buried his face in the crack of her ass, licked his way downwards. His strong fingers pried her wide open, then his mouth worked slowly sideways along the bottom-overhang of each buttock.

He guided her through a slow-motion pirouette. Her crotch and belly came into view: she watched for his reaction, giggled when her nagging little worry was blown to smithereens by his obvious delight. She was perfectly smoothly shaved, not a trace of hair anywhere. Coyly, un-necessarily, she asked "Like it? I shave because I have this scraggly, overgrown bush and I think it's ugly. I hope this way's okay with you?"

Glenn tried to explain how much it pleased him - "Madam, it's not just OKAY, but stunningly, superlatively OKAY! Beautiful! Naked pussy - what a nice surprise!" He turned her so the sunlight from the window caught her front full-on, pulled his head back to study the picture, grinned, let his fingers trace his talk. "Beautiful. I love nothing better than having completely free access to every nerve ending that lives down here – can't get that access with a big bush in the way. So believe me, I'm a happy camper! It's absolutely perfect – and it's simply beautiful, too. Look how your skin seems so much darker in all the folds and creases... Ye gods but I do love those folds and creases, Nicole!"

His fingers traced every feature, slowly and lovingly. Goose bumps flowed in marching armies across her thighs and belly: she shivered deliciously, surprised that he hadn't dived straight for her clit.

"Your pussy looks just like a sumié painting, the creases are the dark, heavy lines laid down by the artist to highlight and outline. Nifty! Yummy, too." He bent forward, kissed her prominent mons, let his tongue explore downwards, sideways, then up to her deep navel.

She sighed, pressed his face against her and then giggled: "NOBODY – and I do mean nobody – has ever compared my pussy to a Japanese pen and ink drawing! You say the NICEST things to a girl, Doctor Glenn. Don't ever stop!"

A few moments more and she caught him by the armpits, raised him up to standing: "Enough already, slow down for just a moment. I'm naked, and YOU aren't – you've still got way too many clothes on!" She squatted before him, her fingertips on his buckle.

He smiled: "There's a little surprise in there for you, too, Nicole."

She skinned his shorts down and off, eyeballed the pronounced, barely-covered bulge in his bright-white Jockeys. "Damn it anyhow! I'm an absolute sucker for white Jockey shorts! Now then, it seems every man on the planet thinks he carries something special, something surprising, in his pants. But it's pretty damn rare that the egotism is justified, believe me! So, let's just see what you carry in here!"

The Jockeys' waistband caught on his cock-head, pulled the shaft downwards, then popped off and freed it to slap up hard against his belly. She goggled – he was also cleanly shaved. Her fingertips explored for a few seconds, dandled his shaved scrotum, then she looked back up at him and said "OK, Doctor Glenn, you surely got me that time! I've never seen a man with a shaved crotch. But I already think I'm going to like it!" She fondled him with eyes closed, then nodded. "Yes indeedy! There's a lovely feeling to these not-hairy balls of yours. Like velvet, sort of, wrapped around something firm and precious." She squeezed gently, dipped her head to let her tonguetip circle the edge of the helmet, instantly giving Glenn his own regiments of marching goose-bumps. "Velvet-Balls! That'll have to be my nickname for you. Doctor VB. Like it?"

He admitted that he did.

She continued to fondle, studied his hardon, pulled the foreskin up to hide the head. "What is this, a half-circumcision?"

He answered "Exactly. Best of both worlds, I think. Dumb luck or clumsy surgeon."

She tugged his cock sideways and then down, letting it flip back up spring-like. Apparently it pleased her: "Sheesh! A teen-ager's hardon to go with what I assume is a very experienced mind and body. Such a nice combination could be awfully dangerous! I'm not blind, you know, and I've been watching this thing for some time now. Does it ever soften up? Or is it perpetually hard?"

He laughed, made his cock jump in her hands. "Of course it goes down, Madam. But it also stays up pretty much as long as I want it to – I really don't like to be in a hurry – and when I come, well, John Thomas there returns to serviceability on the double. Even if I've come three or four times, which is about all I can ever manage in a day even with a superb partner, even after all that work he's usually up and pretending to be able to come again. Perfectly serviceable for my partner's pleasures, but not actually capable of shooting. It can be kind of fun, fucking or making love for a long time while knowing there's no point to straining for another climax - just enjoying the other sensations... giving and getting."

Her eyebrows said she was deeply skeptical. He stood, pointed to the wide counter beside the sink and said "Sit up here for me. Spread your legs, put your hands behind your head. I have a couple of points I need to prove before we get into the shower. Namely that I really do like clean sweat, and that I know how to eat pussy properly. I think I detected a bit of a dare in your tone a few minutes ago. Can't have you doubting me, can we?!"

He tucked her hands behind her head, flagged her elbows out sideways. Her puzzled expression morphed into pure delight as he buried his face in her pit, nursing and licking, making her shiver. No man had ever approached her pits at all, much less with real fervor. The new sensations were so intense, so unusual, that she had to control a reflex to pull away. The slightly bitter saltiness went straight to his cock, and his touches went straight to her belly where they rousted out her butterflies again.