Marina turned slightly, her eyes flicking to the mirror, where she took in the sight of herself—naked, glistening, her pussy still dripping slightly from our earlier play. Her fingers traced the dark, curly hair between her legs, her voice dropping to a thoughtful murmur.
"Should I shave it?" she asked, her tone hesitant, as if she were genuinely considering it.
I shook my head firmly, my voice low, earnest. "No, Ma'am…" I said, my eyes darkening with desire as I reached out, my fingers brushing against her soft curls.
"I love Ma'am's hairy pussy…" The words were true—the feel of her, the sight of her, the taste of her—it was all intoxicating. The wildness of it, the natural beauty, the way it framed her glistening lips—it was perfect.
Marina bit her lip, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she considered my words. Then, without warning, she lifted her arm, exposing her hairy armpit, and leaned in, pressing it against my nose.
