She leaned back against the headboard, legs spread wide, and fixed him with a hard stare. "Take it out. Now. I want to see that hairy cock of yours."
He stood at the foot of the bed, already hard, the thick outline pressing against his jeans. His fingers fumbled with the button, then the zipper, and he shoved the denim down. His cock sprang free, heavy and veined, the shaft covered in dark, coarse hair that curled around the base and climbed toward his stomach. The head was flushed dark, already leaking.
"Wrap your hand around it," she ordered, voice low and rough. "Stroke slow. Let me watch those fingers slide through all that hair."
He gripped the base, squeezing once, and dragged his fist upward. The hair rasped against his palm, the sensation making his balls tighten. Pre-cum oozed from the slit and he used it to slick the first few inches, the wet sound filling the quiet room.
"Faster," she said, sliding two fingers between her own folds. "I want to hear it. Jerk that hairy cock for me like you mean it."
He obeyed, pumping harder, the motion making his balls swing. Sweat gathered at his hairline as he watched her rub her clit in lazy circles, matching his rhythm. Every stroke pulled the foreskin back and forth over the swollen head, the hairy shaft glistening now.
"Spit on it," she demanded. "Get it sloppy."
He leaned forward and let a thick string of spit drop onto the head. It slid down the shaft, catching in the dense hair, turning everything shiny and wet. He smeared it in with both hands now, twisting on the upstroke, squeezing on the downstroke, the wet squelch loud and filthy.
She moaned, pushing two fingers inside herself. "Look at you. That big hairy cock dripping all over your fist. You love showing it off, don't you?"
"Yeah," he grunted, hips thrusting into his grip. "Fuck, it feels good."
"Keep going. Don't you dare come yet. I want to see you edge that thing until your balls ache."
He slowed, breathing hard, the pressure building at the root. His hand moved in short, tight strokes just under the head, teasing the sensitive spot where the hair thinned out. Every few pumps he let go completely, letting his cock twitch and throb in the air, the heavy shaft bobbing, strings of pre-cum stretching from the tip to his fingers.
She crawled closer on the bed, close enough that he could feel her breath on his stomach. "Rub your balls too. Tug on that hairy sack while you stroke."
He reached down with his free hand, cupping the full, furred sac, rolling the heavy orbs between his fingers. The hair there was even thicker, damp with sweat.
He pulled gently, the stretch making his cock jump in his other hand.
"Good boy," she whispered. "Now jerk it hard. I want to watch you lose control."
He picked up speed again, both hands working now, one flying up and down the shaft while the other tugged and squeezed his balls. The bed creaked under his thrusts. His thighs trembled. The room smelled like sex and sweat and the raw, musky scent of his own body.
She reached out and dragged her nails lightly through the hair at the base of his cock, not touching the shaft itself. "Come for me. Paint my tits with it. Jerk every drop out of that hairy cock."
His rhythm broke. He let out a guttural groan, hips snapping forward as the first thick rope shot across her chest. More followed, pulse after pulse, splattering her skin and matting the hair on his own stomach. He kept stroking through it, milking himself until the last weak spurt dripped from the tip onto her thigh.
She smiled up at him, chest glistening. "Now lick it clean. Every drop. Then we start again."
He dropped to his knees without hesitation, already reaching for his still-twitching cock, ready to obey.
