When it comes to ebony pussy, he knows that what I have to offer is top-notch. I don’t shave for him and he likes it that way. That leaves more time for us to get down to business and it always leaves something to the imagination. And, that’s just the way I like it.

This is how it all went down one day. He meets me at the door after work. He takes my tongue in his mouth and presses his lips against mine as if he never wants to let go. It lights a fire under me like I never would have thought before he came into my life. With a tongue in my mouth, I imagine a tongue between my thighs. I spread my center to let him in, but he always keeps me wanting and waiting for more, never entering up on command as I want him to.

I never have to worry about pleasuring him. That is why he is different. My hairy black pussy is small and tight. And, in my small pussy he has found a type of sexual purpose I have never known a man to have. His goal is to please me, to tease me, to pleasure me, to take me across the edge of something that I have never even been close to and make it better every time. Before I drop my clothes, I am halfway there.

I make it to the bed. He showers first, always after getting me worked up but before putting in any work. With the notes he has been emailing to me all day, I know just what he wants this afternoon. Nothing. He doesn’t want anything from me as usual—just my body and my willingness and the burning desire that was born in me for him.

Kisses up and down my spine, down the crack of my ass, the inside of my thighs, the bottoms of my feet, my legs, the folds of my pussy, my navel, between my breasts and in the soft spots of my neck. His tongue moves, leaving trails of moisture in its path. When the air hits them, it increases the pleasure and nearly sends me over the edge yet again.

He loves my pussy. He tastes my pussy. He fucks me with his tongue, spelling the alphabet on the hood of my clitoris and flickering his tongue over its throbbing hood until his chin is wet and sticky with my juices. He says they taste sweet, ‘like pineapple,’ and although I don’t believe him, he believes himself. Black pussy pics.

Only after tasting me to over satisfaction does he enter me, taking me to another level of pleasure I never knew before. It feels a lot like pain, but only something that painful can feel so good. After a few brief moments, he is spent. I am spent. He loves my black pussy. I know he does. And, with sex like this, I don’t mind sharing it with him.