ABC Prompt - Hair

Belladonna-  Her thighs clenched around me as her body bowed and a gush of warmth coated my chin. I didn’t stop. My tongue flicked across the bundle of nerves, finger relentlessly pushing in and out as I brought her to peek. Her hand threaded through the locks of my hair, pulling. Tugging at the loose strands. I tipped my gaze upwards, rewarded with the curve of her body bent backwards. The way her breast were pert, nipples hard against the cool night air. But most of all, her head was tipped back, cascades of red hair trailing down her back like blood and her mouth was open in a silent ‘o’.

I grinned as I lapped at her juice, feeling some amount of satisfaction as her body clenched around my fingers and the sweat from her thighs made her legs slip around my shoulders. When I finally pulled back, my chin was shiny with her cum.

“That,” she panted, “was admirable.”

I laughed a little, sitting up and scooting so I could lay by her side. She was pliant and boneless now, legs spread wide as she basked in the aftermath.

“You’ll be doing that again in a few minutes.”

“Ferocious appetite tonight?”

“Something like that.” She stretched, her toes flexing. My eyes traveled down her body, landing on the dampness between her legs. “Bella,” I asked slowly. “Do you dye your hair?”

Immediately, she looked at me with the utmost scrutiny. “Of course I do not.”

When she was human, her hair was brown. Now, it was a different vibrancy of red each month. The idea itself didn’t surprise me, but the small thatch that she let grow between her legs was the same color. Which left me to wonder if she dyed that as well.

“This,” I said, reaching between her legs to swirl my fingers there. “Is not a natural color,” I teased.

“This,” she said, snatching my wrist and holding it in a bone tight grip, “is about to be broken in two.”

I knew it a meaningless threat but didn’t comment on it any further. I would have to follow her during her next salon day, however. Curious to watch the process of getting her locks so perfectly sweet and red.

Malcolm

Malcolm stood in front of the mirror with a frown on his face. He was fresh from the shower, body still dotted with beads of water, while his towel was discarded on the counter. His hair was slicked back, dark eyes tracing his own body. The scars on his chest. The tattoos that lined his ribs and torso. It was when he got below his bellybutton that he frowned.

“Everything alright?” I asked.

Walking in behind him, I came to stand at his back, wrapping my arms loosely around his waist. He didn’t move away, but the frown did not lessen.

“It’s fine.”

“You look like you don’t like what you see.” I knew that look. For as confident as Malcolm was, he still struggled with body dysmorphia from time to time.

“I used to shave down there,” he said, gesturing to the apex of his thighs. A thatch of dark hair covered his lips. “Trying to decide if I should again.”

“What’s the pro’s and cons?”

“Pros is I won’t feel as sweaty now that the market is heating up. Cons is I’ll have a reminder that there is nothing of use down there.”

I raised my brow at him through our reflection of the mirror. “Bit harsh.”

“You can’t tell me you like this.”

“I,” I started, running my hand down the flat of his stomach. “Can in fact tell you I like this.” I cupped him, massaging the heel of my hand against him like I knew he enjoyed. “I like whatever you choose, Malcolm, because I like you.” There was a small hitch to his breath as I rubbed him just right. “Maybe,” I told him. “We need to spend some more time celebrating what you have,” I murmured to him. “Maybe, I haven’t been showing you how much I do enjoy what is down here.”

Malcolm snorted. “Worshiping my body is not a thing, Lamplight. I don’t need a show.”

“I think you might,” I whispered to him. I watched his pupils go dark as I ground my hand against him. “I think you’ve forgotten how beautiful you are.” His hips rolled against me. Malcolm would never ask, but his body would do the pleading for him. “Just say yes,” I whispered, nipping at his ear.

For a moment, he looked as if he was going to fight. Malcolm was not one for vulnerability. He wasn’t one for displays of sexual affection. But, as I continued rubbing him, I felt the way his thighs shook.

Head falling back on my shoulder, he let out a soft sigh. “Yes.”

Hazel

“It itches!” Hazel yelled in frustration.

“Then why’d you do it?” I was laughing at this point. She was lying flat on her back, skirt hiked up, squirming around on her bed as she fanned at her freshly shaved lips. For some reason, she had gotten it in her head that morning to go clean-shaven and almost immediately, had hated the feel of it.

“I don’t know! I thought it would be kinky and new.”

“We don’t need kinky and new,” I told her. Rolling over, I propped myself to my side, staring at the frustration on her face. Her cheeks were red and her lips were turning down into a perfect pout. “I’m sure you’ll get used to it after a few days,” I told her.

“I better. I don’t know what the point of this was. I was told it would be sexy.”

Who told her that was an entirely different story that I would have to get out of her one day. Most likely, she heard it from one of the gossiping customers that had perused her shop. But, all in all, I was going to take pity on her. Because I didn’t want Hazel feeling like this was all for nothing.

Getting up, I went to the closet, rummaging around for a minute until I found one of her old silk scarves. I held it out in front of me as I came walking back.

“Here,” I said. “Let’s try this.” I laid the silk against her bare lips, watching as she sighed a bit at the feeling.

“Oh, that feels nice,” she moaned. “It’s soft.”

“Good. Just sit back and relax,” I told her. I began gently brushing the silk against her exposed skin, watching the way she breathed in relief. That relief soon turned into pleasure as her hips began to squirm. When I noticed the silk sticking to her just a bit, I pressed my hand against her center and began rubbing the silk into her wetness.

“Oh,” she gasped, eyes wide and hips hiccuping against me. “Like that,” she encouraged.

With the silk still in place, I slipped a finger inside of her, running the cool material across her. Hazel’s walls clenched around me as she let out a small mewl of satisfaction. “Maybe the rumors are true. Maybe there is some fun to be had like this.” I grinned as she wordlessly opened her mouth, becoming lost in pleasure as I slid another finger inside her and curled them both.

She grabbed my wrist, looking me in the eye. “This is all you will be doing until the hair grows back,” she told me.

Somehow, I didn’t think I would complain.

Milo

“Other than the top of your head, can you even grow hair?”

“Hey,” Milo protested. “Rude.”

We were lying on the living room rug, sweat still drying on our skin. Milo’s hair was slicked back from his face, curls drying in a frazzled mess once more. Currently, my fingers were dancing up and down his body, mapping out each freckle. His dick twitched as I gently slid my hands through the mess on his stomach, coming to play with the soft skin between his legs.

“Milo, most men have at least a little bit of hair here,” I told him.

He rolled his eyes. “Not my fault I’m fae.”

“Is it a fae thing?”

“It is now.”

I snorted. “So you don’t shave it?”

He raised a brow at me. “You think I would take a razor anywhere near my dick? I’m dumb but I’m not crazy. Besides,” he sat up on his forearms, looking down at himself. “There’s hair there. It’s just light colored. You can’t see it.”

“Where?” I laughed.

“Right there.”

“Where?” I asked him again. 

Milo gave the most dramatic sigh as he flopped back down on his back. His cock was at half-mast already. “I don’t know. Maybe you need to really get a close look. Get your face right down there.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Oh, like this?” And in one fell swoop, I swallowed him whole, feeling him harden the rest of the way at the back of my throat.

“Yeah,” he gasped, hand coming up to curl against the back of my skull. “Just like that.”

Gabriel

“You need to sit still.”

“I can do this on my own.”

“Yes, but it is sexier if I get to do it.”

Gabriel laid naked on his back while I straddled his hips, my own clothes already discarded. I had a pair of scissors in my hands and was carefully grooming the thatch of dark hair that surrounded his half formed erection and the heavy set of his balls. I would be lying if I said this wasn’t a turn on for me. The second the thought had formed in my mind, I had been squirming. Gabriel, however, was lying there stoic and true, with only the smallest frown on his face.

“Grooming is a part of every day life,” he told me. “I do not know how you find this so appealing.”

Yet, it was his dick that was twitching with each pass of my fingers. Though, I was concentrating too much to really point that out. “It’s more of me getting to take care of you,”  I told him. His hair was thick and wiry. According to Gabriel, he had to trim it once a week to keep it well managed. He was nothing if not fastidious about cleanliness.

“I’m almost done,” I told him. 

“You cannot possibly be. It takes me much longer to get it right.”

“Gabriel, this is not some sort of science. You just cut until it doesn’t look out of control anymore.”

“You are clearly doing it wrong.”

“You are clearly anal-retentive.” I set aside the scissors, leaning back to admire my work. With a damp cloth already on stand by, I swiped it across him, making sure to grab his erection and give it a few thorough pumps.

“I have a certain decorum I need to keep,” he was telling me.

“Uh huh.”

“There is an expectation for how I look. The way I carry myself.”

I was maneuvering myself now, hovering over him as I stroked him to rigidity. “Yup,” I responded. I had already prepared myself before this. 

“This is not a quick ten minute ritual. A well groomed man is one who you can count on. One who you can–” his words guttered off as I sunk myself down upon him.

“Gabriel?” I said, bracing my hands on either side of him. “Shut up.”

And he did.