Chapter 35: Mick and Keri and the Kitty

Did I ever mention how much I loved Keri’s pussy? I love her tits. I love her eyes. I love her face. I love the entire package that her soul is wrapped in. A parent trying to pick their favorite child has an easier task than me trying to pick out my Keri’s favorite feature.

We often spent an entire Sunday afternoon watching football. We cuddled up on the couch, our normal position when watching TV together and one of my favorite positions. Keri sat and I lay, on my left side, with my head in her lap. As we lay there, she would have my head resting against her fabulous right breast or she would lift it and set it on top of my head to keep my old bald head warm.

My left arm would be down at my side and Keri’s right hand would rest on my right hip, sometimes playing with my pubic hair or my cock. I would have my right hand between her legs playing with her thick, densely curled jet black pubic hair. She always had her legs spread just enough to allow me easy access to that wonderful black patch.

I casually stroked my finger up and down along her always exposed labia. I would curl her pubic hair around my finger. My finger would find the soft space between the outer flesh and the extended labia, it would move slowly and gently up to the edge of her bush. I traced a line along the fine point where her hair ended and the smoothness of her belly began. My hand would move along the soft skin on her belly and her inner thighs and then retrace the path beginning where the couch stopped and her pussy began.

If you have never done this, it is damn near impossible to get excited about a football game when you are engaged in such a relaxing exercise. However, the occasion great play or horrible call would cause a sudden jumping or jerking motion, and that would cause a sudden burst of pleasure, with the flick of her clit, or pain with a sudden tap to my nuts.

But let me get back to Keri’s pussy. Buried deep in a triangular patch of tightly curled and trimmed jet black hair is nirvana. When she stands naked, looking from the front, I can just barely make out the labia that extend out from her soft pitch black mass of hair. The color is a rich brownish pink.

Looking from the back I can see the brown pucker that is the opening to her back side and just below that are her labia. From the back they form a beautiful soft groove that drives me nuts. With a slight bend at the waist, she opens up like a road map. The labia part just enough to show a bit of pink that offers a straight tunnel into her inner sex.

I think that the vulgar terms might be that the entrance to her vagina looks like a tossed salad. When she slides off her panties her labia are compressed, but after a few minutes they begin to accept the offer of gravity and start to unfold and extend.

From the front her clit is buried in the jungle that is her pubic hair, but with a little exploring I can always find the pot of honey. The top most edge of her slit is buried in a tight patch of hair. I think some call it a “bearded clam”. When I spread out her butterfly and expose the bright pink, and usually very wet, interior, the clump of hair at the top stands straight up at attention. It is like a shiny black fur arrow pointing to the gloryland.

I mentioned her butterfly. Oh my. Those lips look like curly slices of dark sushi meat. The labia are twisty and tightly packed until I begin to stroke them. Then they act like her shoulders do when I massage them. They get softer and looser. They begin to relax and extend out even farther from her vulva. That is when I usually break down and begin to kiss and nibble them. Fresh out of her panties at the end of a long day, there is a distinct aroma of sweat and the juices she produces, she claims, when I call her on the phone.