Ally had decided out of the blue to let her pubic hair grow.

It had started as an innocent one-time thing. Weeks earlier, after sex with her boyfriend, she had decided out of the blue to let her pubic hair grow until the day she made herself beautiful to seduce him. Armpits, pubic hair, everything was shaved bald and tight, she showered, perfumed and seduced him.

For more than four days Ally didn’t get the chance to shave her pussy for her Skype session and every now and then he asked her: “Tonight tightly shaved pussy? He would say, “I don’t know what you’re doing, but tonight I’m just going to fuck you. She got every opportunity to make herself beautiful for him. And was lustfully taken by him. Slowly but surely a fantasy developed over the following weeks as she lived towards a dance and trance party where he provided the music. She had fantasized, dreamed, masturbated about her unshaven pussy and a still unknown virile, naughty man who would seduce her during this party. To whom she would give her unshaven pussy.

That night she danced happily and slowly but lustfully. For the occasion, she had dressed extra seductive, a short denim skirt and a shirt that made her breasts easily accessible while kissing. Her thong turned out to be soaked on her first trip to the bathroom; she had left her bra at home. At the beginning of the evening, she danced with several men, even kissed one and felt her clit with his fingers. She pushed her mound of Venus forward so that he could continue to massage it. Just as she finished, his friends came running up looking for him and they said goodbye. He placed his wet fingers on his girlfriend’s booty.

He was so horny from her unshaven cunt.

During the course of the evening, she had slapped a virile man, or this man had slapped her. It didn’t matter in which order, what mattered was that she danced with him intimately, which soon became erotic, they felt each other’s movements and their desire. This increased rapidly when his hands cupped her buttocks, first on her skirt and soon on the bare skin of her buttocks. He stroked her bare buttocks, giving her goose bumps and an incredibly wet pussy, taking her horniness to the next level. She did not have to wait long before he reached her perineum with his hand, and the gates of her cunt were wide open for the tank she felt approaching from the front with its barrel aimed at her unshaven cunt. His stiff sex had been throbbing in his pants for some time against her now yearning, leaking, sucking cunt. She felt the floor shake. Skillfully dancing through the crowd, he had entered her – unnoticed by the onlookers. Tight and rigid, she clasped his pole with her pussy muscles, and he danced his glowing rod skillfully and tactically into her unshaven cunt.

Even when her boyfriend, who had left the turntable for a moment, came to see how she was doing and saw her dancing sensually and passionately, he had noticed that she was dancing intimately, yes, even intimately, but not that she – the bawdy witch, the whorish slut, the horny bitch – was looking him in the eyes and pursing her lips, kissing him and even giving him an air kiss, as if he were the sweetest man in the whole world at that moment, while she was turning her eyes and just sizzling with cum from her mating dance buddy. It was a good thing he couldn’t lip-read, not her labia, but also not the lips from which came the uncontrolled but audible words “Jesus what you make me horny” to her mating dance buddy. Seeing her lips move, he walked over, kissed her, wished her pleasure – ‘I’ve got it’ – and quickly moved on.

So they danced, for two, three hours, his pole staying in her unshaven pussy all the time, no doubt both aided by drugs and Viagra. She enjoyed the strength and rigidity of his erection. She was sweating. Her cunt was dripping. Her cunt and breasts were leaking. She had only three buttons left on her shirt. Her breasts danced in freedom.

Deep into the night, the party was not over, a pee break interrupted their dance of lust. Together they walked to the bathroom where she, but not he, took a leak. Afterwards he took her outside, steaming with mutual horniness and with room with her because of her emptied bladder and with even more power because his pole remained powerful partly because of the retained urine. Under the starry sky, by an old oak tree, on a small stone wall, she felt that she could no longer resist all the lust, horniness, whoredom and trance, and she let him take her in her pussy, her mouth, her ass, between her breasts, her buttocks, in her navel, until the moment when the last party people had left, and she could no longer count and keep up with the orgasms she was experiencing from him.

On the small wall after his departure, she waited with his cum stuck to her until he was ready to leave too. He was satisfied with the evening of music, had even felt like her when he saw her lying there waiting for him, “but not tonight. Shave your pussy tomorrow, honey,’ he said as he hugged her and led her to the car. What a night, huh. She could only agree. What a night, yes. She had to shower first. Rinse off. Seed. Sweat. Pussy juice.

It stayed with him for that one night of tears. But a concept was born. Slowly but surely, at least in the weeks that followed, her unshaven pussy became a trademark, especially in her mind. In anticipation of sex, and perhaps in anticipation of even more naughty sex, she fantasized about not shaving her pussy. Her unshaven pussy enjoyed masturbating to naughty sex with this and that, and when she walked along the dike with him in her booties, she had not shaved for that reason either. Not even consciously, because it had become part of the concept not to shave while waiting to have sex with him. And he hadn’t done it for four days. And again, consciously, because she wanted to get laid by her running mate in the bird-watching hut. It became watching and taking.