Refillable: No Expiration, No Limit

She heaved herself up, trying to get as much of him as deep into her as possible, to suck him into her soul where he belonged. She cupped his buttocks and pulled their bellies tightly together. "Absolutely zero! It's wonderful!"

"Then I'm doing my job, we are doing OUR job, correctly. Not bad for an amateur team on their first attempt! And how about your excitement and enjoyment meters?"

"Absolutely maxed out."

"Teamwork, Heather... plus that trust thing. Now, before we get fancy, I want you to play with yourself, just one hand between our bellies – make yourself feel good, find your orgasms, come big for us, and let me worry about the in-and-outs for a while – OK?"

The mandated orgasms came quickly and easily, a long string of short, sharp, small ones, and then two monstrous whole-body earthquakes. Throughout, Kelvin kept up his ministrations, kept his cock, lips, fingertips variously occupied, and didn't let himself come, just enjoyed her enjoyment.

When she was all-over coated with sweat and shaking with aftershocks, Kelvin let her lie back, slid from her: "Just lie there for a moment, Lover. I like the view with your pussy all red and gaping!"

She sighed, wondered why she hadn't blushed this time, closed her eyes, and relaxed.

He knelt beside her, and his voice seemed to come from an amazing distance: "But before we really get going..." She thought to herself, my god, if we're not 'going' already, what does it mean to really get going!? "... there are some things you should know about pussy-fucking, and about what you're feeling right now - all those urgent flames in the belly and such. I think it's important to really be aware of what's going on in making love. Do you mind a little personal philosophy?"

He placed her fingers around his hot, slippery erection: "This won't take long and my hardon won't go away! Promise!"

A bit of her mind analyzed what he was saying – "pussy fucking" indeed - curious, the need for an adjective modifying 'fucking' – the only reason for it would be that there is more than one type of fucking, in some way differentiated from using one's pussy. End of instant analysis. As she and her imp stared at one another, her body kept busy, stroking the big vein on his cock with her thumb. She enjoyed the shivers her touches produced in Kelvin, how they echoed through his entire body.

"Heather, I believe there really are two very different and separable aspects to sexual attraction. What you're feeling right now is the first – it's pure biology, your reproductive imperative, the body's prime directive. Hormones and ovaries and perpetuation of the species and all that, taking control. Those flames in your belly are your body saying that it has decided that Kelvin is a fine candidate to father your body's next generation. Your body –actually, it's your DNA doing the driving - wants my DNA and doesn't give a damn how it gets it. It doesn't care one whit about anything else at all. So your body sets off those belly-flares to drive you that way."

"But nice as that is, however good the flames feel when fed, those flames have exactly nothing to do with me as a person, with my humanity – they're only concerned with Kelvin as a source of good DNA! They have nothing whatever to do with the other aspect of sex – namely the mingling of souls. Whenever the pussy is involved, the REAL interpersonal emotional contact that we need is way, way secondary to the biological imperative."

He cocked his head, studied her for a second, then continued: "A woman's body often tells her "HEY, lady, breed with this one!" – and she quite often obeys, regardless of the fact that every non-DNA aspect of the man may be completely inappropriate for her other needs. We see that all the time, in others mostly but sometimes we can actually see it in ourselves. I think the deeper connection is far more important, but our bodies don't agree. And both male and female biology usually completely swamps anything else – biology is awfully damned smart and strong!"

Things clicked together somewhere in her brain, and set her head buzzing: she knew now, for a certainty, exactly where this was leading. He meant to fuck her bottom as well as her pussy! The realization warmed instead of panicked her, sent a very precise prickle of anticipation through her sphincter – she was finding out a lot about hidden aspects of herself, very quickly!

"So here's what I propose. There is a way to separate out the pleasure and enjoyment and genuine deep emotional connections from mere responses to mindless reproductive programming. Just do things that cannot possibly have reproductive consequences... such as using your bottom." Heather privately told herself "AHA! – she'd been correct moments ago about why the need for adjectives!" He continued, missing her momentary introspection: "A load of fine, energetic, enthusiastic sperm deposited into a rectum has exactly zero reproductive potential, so any emotional connections produced that way are divorced from reproduction."

"I suggest we first do a thorough pussy-fuck to satisfy the biological imperative that is glowing so brightly in your belly. Don't misunderstand me, Heather - that will be hugely enjoyable and emotionally close and meaningful in its own right. But then, later, with that out of the way, with "biology" fully satiated for the moment, we will take a long time and indulge our needs for soul-soul contact, by making love in other, non-reproductive ways. Especially, lover, via your bottom. That'll isolate the body's prime directive from you and me as HUMANS... and we'll see what happens. I think you'll be astounded at the difference in the emotional connections, the purity of the experience, and the intensity. Good non-reproductive sex is a far better trip than any recreational drug in the world. Seem reasonable?"

Heather nodded, eyes bright, face a deep pink: she'd heard about such shenanigans, but had certainly never ever thought about them in this way... and certainly she'd never been faced with such a calm assurance that yes, indeed, she would shortly be indulging! Oddly, she felt nothing amiss in simply accepting the proposition. Instead, there were all those premonitory twinges down in the deep musculature around her anus! She was unleashing what turned out to be a very different person than she would have believed.

"There are a bunch of really enjoyable preliminaries, though. No need to be in a rush – in fact, rushing is very counterproductive. Wait a second... don't go anywhere!" He left the bed for a few seconds, returned with a towel and his shaving kit, settled between her widespread knees. "Lift your butt!"

She did so, eyes still closed: he slipped a big bath towel under her bottom.

"Now, Heather, it's time for you to see why I like both of our crotches completely shaved."

Completely shaved!? –- She watched him hold up items from the kit – battery-powered mustache trimmer, shaving foam, razor.

"All the rest of this un-needed pussy-fur is going away. Ready? Remember, we are in NPN mode, so there's no choice... besides, you're going to like this! Gotta trust me completely, there will be razorblades against all those sensitive tissues, and you won't be in control. Okay?"

His eyes were half-laughing, half serious. Perhaps this was a test? In any case, it promised to be both interesting and enjoyable – but it did mean genuinely giving up control, putting herself literally in his hands. Some test, indeed. She nodded, propped herself up on her elbows, watched wide-eyed.

The buzz of the clipper was almost hypnotic: her remaining pubic mat came away cleanly in inch-wide strips, leaving only the shortest furze of stubble. Some maneuvering was needed, he said, to give the clippers the needed access to all the fine hairs down deep in her buttocks-valley and behind her vaginal opening. It wasn't in any way clinical, just matter-of-fact - followed with obvious and necessary instructions. All done with a luscious warmth and intimacy.

He rolled her over onto her belly: the pillow under her hips thrust her bottom into the air like a cat in heat. He took her hands, brought them back to her buttocks, whispered "You have perhaps the most beautiful bottom I've ever seen. Hold yourself open for me... wide!"

She did. Could she ever be more open and vulnerable and more completely accessible? The cool metal sole-plate of the clipper had a vibrator-like effect that set her squirming. Then he rolled her over onto her back once more.

Applying the shaving foam raised goose-bumps: he spread her legs wider yet, impossible open, unconditional trust and surrender together. Gently, delicately, with sure strokes and maneuverings despite the slipperiness of the terrain, Kelvin stripped the vestiges, went over every location at least twice and from different directions, seeking escaped stubble.

His obvious, easy familiarity with the process, his proficiency and lack of any hesitation, almost led her to ask how many women he'd done this with – but she stifled herself. Un-necessary information, a likely distraction, back to the here-and-now of them together. The past didn't matter, didn't concern THEM.

Finished, he left to get a warm wash-cloth, then returned to kneel between her legs for cleanup. "Just wait until you see what the final inspection is like!" – he positively leered at her, and the effect was so out of character that she laughed aloud.

Perhaps it took a whole ten seconds of final inspection – his mouth being the inspection tool – before she fully understood the difference wrought by genuine, utter shaved-nakedness. There were lots of incredibly sensitive nerves she hadn't known existed! As he hoovered his way along each outer lip, then up and over her perfectly smooth mons, she sighed, gasped, and giggled – until she came again, with almost no warning.

While she settled, he extracted a small plastic squeeze-bottle from his kit, showed it to her. "Pure grape-seed oil. Mother Nature's very best slippery stuff." Once more he rolled her onto her stomach, settled himself between her wide-spread knees. She heard the tiny gurgle of the oil as he filled a palm. He began subtly, raising her shins to the vertical, massaging her soles, arches, heels, calves, then firmly up the backs of her thighs until he was concentrating on her buttocks, his dripping slick hands cupping the full, solid cheeks, massaging, working slowly down into the valley as her hips rose steadily higher entirely of their own volition.

Heather found it fascinating to watch from the inside as her body took command away from her brain. She sighed as his index and middle finger went deep into her pussy, then gasped loudly as he added the thumb, all slippery and hot, fully into her butt. So many sensations, so intense! His spare fingers found her clit in the mixture of oil and personal juices, and stayed on it until she was panting hard with each deep thumb-waggle. Abruptly the hand was gone, replaced for sensation by his breath and the warmth from his ever-closer face. His breath flowed down her crack, then it was his tongue, moving glacially from the topmost trace of her cleft down, down, until his whole mouth settled like a vacuum cleaner over her anus, and he tongue-fucked her there, his pussy-fingers churning madly in a slow-motion version of a St Vitus' dance.

She clutched the sheets in her fists, clamped a spare pillow in her teeth, and howled into it as she came. Only then did he let her relax. He rolled her over again onto her back, resumed his barbering posture, beamed a thoroughly pleased grin at her, said "Fragility, thy name ain't HEATHER! That exercise you just finished so nicely, M'Lady, takes strength and toughness! Why are you so pink and sweaty, anyway?"

She couldn't speak yet – the breath wasn't there.

He slathered another generous squirt of oil onto his hands and her mons, took time to slowly, luxuriously coat her belly and nipples, her entire breasts, her inner thighs, her pits. "God, woman, but I do love your pussy completely naked like this!"

She could see in his face the pure delight he was taking in every aspect of her body, including this new development.

"It was a wonderful thing before, but I'm a lifelong smoothness devotee and you are now utterly magnificent! Worthy of certain forms of worship." He leaned forward and inhaled her clit, making her writhe. "Like this one!" He went back to hands only, and only on her mons and belly and nipples, with side-junkets to the insides of her thighs and down the crack of her bottom, up behind her ears, the soles of her feet, ignoring her clit completely. In no time she was squirming urgently, almost panting. He stopped, waited until she looked at him, then asked with perfect innocence "Shall I continue, or would Madam like to stop here?"

She reached for his hands and placed them firmly where most required – breasts and, especially, her mons, where she pressed the palm firmly against her aching and oh-so-needy clit. With a grin she asked, "What do you think!?"

He stroked and fondled, explored every nook and cranny, inside and outside. She practically purred, when she wasn't squirming. Eventually he paused again, waited until she focused on him. He had a questioning look.

"What?" she asked.

"I was just wondering. You don't seem to be embarrassed at all by this, by being so exposed to me. And I'm really pretty much a stranger in your life."

She stretched cat-like – with her toes pointed, her legs were stunningly shaped and muscled - and smiled up at him. "Nope. Not embarrassed at all, lying here spread-eagled in your lap! If that seems odd to YOU, just think how odd it is for ME, from the inside! But being here like this, so exposed, seems perfectly natural and completely right. Frankly, I love it! But I am embarrassed by one strange little thing."

"And just what might that be? I've seen no signs."

"The shave!" She stared down at her belly, sent her fingertips down through the oil, cupped and fondled her hillock. "Isn't that odd? Not at all embarrassed by lying here completely exposed to a near-stranger, but the shave for some reason DOES embarrass me!"

"Any idea why?"

She shrugged: "Well, let me think a minute. Maybe I can figure it out. Meanwhile, don't you DARE stop playing with my pussy! I'll just work through the distraction!"

That took perhaps a minute.

"I think I know. I'm not embarrassed by being so totally exposed to you, to your eyes, because it seems so natural and so ... 'innocent' certainly isn't the word, but the situation just seems RIGHT. When I watch you looking straight into my pussy, I can see in your face how much pleasure you're getting just from the view, and that amazes and pleases me. And you're having FUN with the inside-me and with my body – that's a whole new concept for me, sex as fun! Anyhow, I'm completely comfortable, I trust you totally. And Kelvin, your gaze isn't lewd or lascivious – it's hard to explain: it certainly is SEXY and sexual and penetrating and luscious and tingle-making, but it hasn't got a trace of anything negative – 100% positive vibes! I don't think it'd be like that if there were anything lewd in it."

"The shave, well, maybe it's just that being pussy-shaved is the ultimate in nudity? For a woman who still has a bush, even without clothes there is something between her actual pussy and a man's gaze, so she is still somehow covered. Not me this way, not any more. Not with this pre-puberty crotch just hanging out like this!"

She slid her hands down to join his in the slipperiness. "But for all that, I believe you've made a permanent convert to shaving this bit of my anatomy. Especially if I can call on you to be my personal barber! I love the feel! And I'm sure I'll get used to the appearance pretty quickly, too. SO - thank you!"

Kelvin re-loaded his palms with oil, settled into a shin-kneel between her legs, and took control of her body, exploring, looking for maximum intensity, always talking low and gently, describing what he was seeing, feeling, looking for, thanking her for her permission, for her trust.

Heather disappeared into a dense fog of new sensations, completely lost and totally adrift. His hands were superb: pussy and bottom each got two right-hand fingers, while his left palm kept vibrating greasily against her mons. Both hands at her crotch now, three fingers each for pussy and bottom – how full could she get?! His mouth on her clit, her back arching so hard she thought it must snap soon, oily hands on her boobs, her nipples stretching with his twisting, pulling just SO.

Then hands sliding up her legs, fingernails scrabbling at the backs of knees, the inside edges of ankles, slipping ever so slyly between her toes. Momentary pauses in his ministrations made her open her eyes. She watched between her up-veed legs as he stroked himself with one hand, cock empurpled and rigid, glistening with oil, his other hand doing something perfectly marvelous, utterly indefinable inside her belly. Of the picture, she managed to think "He's a perfect satyr!"

He shifted, lifted her butt, set her legs up on his shoulders, locking them face-to-face. Then his fingers were sliding out, leaving an incredible aching void. The soundless pause prolonged itself until she stared up at him, questioning.

"Time to eliminate biology from the equation, Madam!" His gentle smile, anticipatory and deeply knowing, sent the most interesting and oddly pleasant chills up her spine. "Don't you go pomegranating me now!"

She shook her head: NO WAY!

"Just checking – are you ready, Lover, for a major sensual adventure?"

She bit her lip, kept staring at him wide-eyed. Her pupils were huge. "You mean fucking in my butt, don't you! That's where you're going." She held him with her gaze, unblinking.

He nodded, smiled, said "And how'd M'Lady ever figure that out? You must be psychic!" as he reached out and gently tweaked a hardened nipple. "Your body's certainly ready!"

She shivered and flooded again with goose-bumps. God how she liked being touched by this man – he always seemed to know just what needed touching, and in just what way... or was it that she was so excited that any and every touch was going to seem that way? Didn't matter a whit, did it? "I... Kelvin, my BODY seems to be ready, but I'm not completely sure about my mind!" She looked embarrassed. "I'm still a little bit frightened... or worried? It's hard to tell the two apart sometimes. You do keep saying how potent an experience it is!"

"Heather, all this is so new to you that I'd be amazed if you WEREN'T a little apprehensive. But believe me, all that's coming is 100% pure pleasure, nothing else. Can you trust me on this, too? You have so far. Any regrets to this point?"

He leaned forward and sucked for a moment on each nipple. She pressed him hard against her chest and shook her head, muttered "No regrets, none whatever. If you think I'm ready, that it's time, then who am I to argue? But Kelvin, I'm still a little... well, nervous, if not quite scared. Things are happening awfully fast for me – no complaints, you understand, but sheesh! I feel like I'm in emotional and sensory overdrive."

She stopped, then re-started: "Are you really sure about this bottom-fucking business? About ME and the business, that is? That I'm ready? It may sound silly, but truly, truly more than anything else I don't want to disappoint you. And I might, since I don't know what I'm doing. And that would be a bad thing, because I can tell- believe me! – that doing it in a woman's butt is one of your favorite things. It's quite plain, you know."

He cupped her face in his hands, looked deep into her. "Absolutely you are ready. And there's no way you can disappoint me, no matter what – even if you were to kick me out right now! Lady mine, I have a very good reason for knowing that you're ready – namely lots of personal experience being the recipient. I love being bottom-fucked with a dildo, and upstairs in my suitcase I have my favorite, a big green latex fellow considerably bigger than my own cock. It's been inside me lots and lots of times. You're going to get to use it on me later, if you wish. I'd certainly love it if you did. So, Lover, I know a lot about the physical end of bottom-fucking, from both sides. I also think I understand a good deal about the emotional content for the recipient. The whole business of surrender of control, being open and vulnerable goes in spades for a man – after all, we strict-hetero males are simply not built to be penetrated like that - either physically or psychically. Plus, society's taboos and bullshit about men and their bottoms doesn't make it any simpler, either."