Imagine you have a Muslimah girlfriend. She walks in after a long summer day still wrapped in her black burkha. The fabric sticks to her in places. She locks the door, eyes on you, and starts pulling it off.
“Fuck… it’s so hot,” she mutters, voice low and rough. Underneath she’s damp, clothes clinging. She lifts her arms without shame. Thick unshaven hair in her armpits, dark and wet. The heavy scent hits you immediately.
She watches your face. “Smell it. I’ve been like this all day.”
You do. She lets out a short breath, eyes half-lidded, lips parting. When your hand slides between her legs her unshaven pussy is soaked, hair matted and slick. She spreads wider.
“Don’t tease. Just put it in.”
You push into her. She’s burning hot and dripping. Her mouth opens in a quiet moan, brows drawing together. She keeps her arms up, armpits open, the strong scent thick between you.
“Harder,” she breathes, looking straight at you. “I need it.”
You fuck her deep. Sweat runs down her sides. She bites her lip, then gasps, hips rolling to meet every thrust. Her expression stays hungry eyes dark, cheeks flushed, mouth open.
“I’m close… don’t stop”
She comes hard, thighs shaking, a broken sound leaving her throat. You follow right after, buried in her. She stays open under you, breathing heavy, still smelling of heat and sex, eyes locked on yours.
“Again,” she says quietly. “Before I cool down.”
