Ugly
story codes: MF, Exhibitionist



Ugly
by Bre_Reggae


As she planted her round ethnic ass in the chair she knew better. She knew that
she should not be here, not with him but her pussy was telling her differently. The
pussy needed this and it was free. No emotional attachments no strings. So, why
not take advantage, right? As he walked towards her, she turned her head to avoid
staring directly into the face of the beast. Damn, he was ugly she thought and
mentally shook herself.

He stopped directly in front of her, took a seat on the floor inches from her closed
legs. He was not wearing a shirt and his chest was impeccable. He spent hours a
day at the gym and the nipple ring sparkled brilliantly against his chocolate skin.
From where he set, he would have a clear view of the pussy, if she opened her legs.

"So, what is it that yah want to do; ah hungry or want to catch a movie", he
questioned?

Yeah, as if I would be seen in public with U, she thought, but instead replied, "U
know what I am here for why fake the funk".

"Girl you¢re a trip. Is that all I am to U, an easy fuck", he asked?

"This is your answer", she replied as she spread she legs open and gave him a full
view of the pussy. When she opened her legs the pussy was reveled like a piece of
well-cooked steak on a golden platter. It was shaved and appeared as though it
had been dripping juices of need for days; it was that wet. "You know you want it
playboy, come on" she offered. The pussy was being offered to him as one would
offer a child a piece of chocolate cake before dinner, how could he refuse. She
used her fingers to spread the pussy lips apart, which accentuate the clit. That clit
seemed to call him to supper.

"Damn", was all he said as he got to his knees and zeroed in on the pussy. He was
up-close and personal with the pussy now. His face was only inches from the pussy
and he could smell her salty sweet needs. He pushed her legs up onto the arms of
the chair to expose the pussy even more. He covered her hand with his and
pushed the pussy lips open and rubbed his tongue on her protruding clit.

She let out an elongated cry as she felt initial contact of his tongue. She needed
this and needed it badly. She begin to lift her hips to offer him more of her wet
pussy. She put her hands on his shaved head to push him closer to the needy clit.
Her dress was bunched up around her stomach now exposing her entire lower half.
He started sucking on the engorged clit and put a finger into her open pussy. One
of his hands went to the top of her dress and pulled down the collar to release her
breasts. His mouth left the pussy and captured a dark round nipple.

She stared at him as he nursed at her breast. He had nice full soft lips and they
were wrapped around her nipple. The sight his unattractive face sucking at her
breast turned her on. She stuck out her chest to ensure that he did not stop
feeding. Her hips were bouncing on his finger as it fucked the pussy.

She felt it start; that ascending climb to reach the moment du supreme, the zenith
of Mt Climax. She focused on his face as he continued to feed on her breast. He
rolled his tongue around the nipple and then sucking it into his mouth. The more
she looked at his ugly face the closer she got to the peak. Yes, she thought, I am
going to cum on his finger first. Then I am going to cum on the beast's cock. She
started to ride his finger harder. She clinched her pussy around his finger and then
released those same muscles in an effort to have the finger go deeper. She was
getting there. She could feel the waves start in her stomach. Then, as if in a horror
movie the beast raised it¢s head and put his lips were on her lips. He was kissing
her. Damn, she thought, as the climb ended and she crashed back to the earth
never having reached supreme heights. She turned her head and his lips fell to her
cheek.

© 2008 Bre_Reggae

Bre is-a girl stuck in an endless cycle of romantic scenes. After an ordinary hot
Florida summer of devouring one romance novel after another, She was convinced
that she could write one of her own own. The best parts of these books are the sex
scenes (right). She would read those scenes over and over again.

Now she just write those scenes over and over again but now some of her real life
and those of her friends inspire those scenes. Writing is not always easy but it is
the thing that connects her to who she is, to what she want to be and to who she
was in the past.

When Bre is not at the computer trying to find the right recipe of words to feed her
artist monster, she often use silks, paints, metals and wood to calm the artist
creature lurking within.
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