Ravon’s pouty labia are just about visible under her comfy summer thong.
Here is a clip from one of her many videos that you can find here.
The following is another true story from Rusty K Bush. That is the new porn name for the author who happens to be a natural red head who likes to leave her pubic hair unshaven. Perhaps one day she will show us. In the meantime enjoy her very erotic writing.
Home alone. 3 hours to myself. Some girls would do something responsible and clean house, work out, or do homework. I am a University drop-out, not working, and didn’t feel like cleaning. I have too much of a libido to ignore opportunities to play, so I saw this as an opportunity to have fun.
A decent normal girl might go to her bedroom… lay in bed and use her fingers or a favorite toy to bring herself pleasure for a while. Maybe she’d even get online with a friend and have company. A normal girl would be satisfied with that. But I am not normal.
I like exotic experiences. One of the more exotic (most would say strange or even perverted) was to undress in my father’s workroom… a closed off area in the basement with a massive work bench, a gazillion tools, oversized sink basin, cold flourescent lights, and a colder bare concrete floor.
It was Dad’s haven from Mom when she was being too bitchy to him, but he also liked to build things when he had time.
It is a very masculine environment; right down to the vintage pin-up girl calendar from the 70’s on the wall and the empty beer bottles that were invariably scattered on the work bench or surrounding shelves.
It was the opposite of comfortable. But something about being in there, in the nude, my bare feet on the cold concrete, made me feel exposed and vulnerable… like being surrounded by all this manly stuff in this man-cave I was surrounded by masculinity… like a stripper probably feels her first time on stage. It sounds perverted, because it wasn’t strange men who inhabit that work-room, but my father. I can’t explain it. He is a masculine guy; very tall and sturdy and (my friends say) “sexy” to some. To me he just is the most masculine guy I know.
What makes even less sense is that I actually am a gay woman (not always, but really only have relations with women these days) and yet this following experience was very exciting to me.
Bit of history: Since I was much younger (I am 21 now), I tried various things to make my body feel good sexually. Something that seemed to appeal to me was contact of my bare skin with cold objects… things from the fridge or freezer… and metal objects. A couple of times I discovered that masturbating with a cold metal object rubbed on my nipples enhanced my self pleasuring. One time I was in my Dad’s workshop getting him a screwdriver and I paused when I realized that there were 100’s of steel tools and objects in there. a few days later when my parents and siblings were out, I found a wrench. It was cold as is everything there (the basement is poorly heated).. I ran it over my breasts and nipples while masturbating and eventually moved to the floor. The floor felt like ice on my bum but it somehow made it even more exciting. After climaxing, I laid there. Mostly naked, it was weird to look around and see all of my Dad’s stuff towering over me. It was like I was being watched or something.
time went on and at least a dozen more times I’d sneak in there and find a few of his tools to have fun with; tools and handles found there way all over and even inside my body. Each time the sensation of the cold floor, cold tools, and the feeling that something masculine was watching me the whole time just made for a perfectly exquisite and kinky experience.
My last experience (very recent) took things to a new level. One that made me even more excited, but also ashamed and even worried about my own sanity. Having said that, there is no denying how good it felt, physically.
It was 9am. Mom and Dad had both left for work. Mom might have been back at noon for lunch, but that aside it was pretty certain that I had the house to myself for a few hours. I usually relieve myself (sexually) in bed in the morning or the shower afterwords, but today I hadn’t showered, and so far today was unfulfilled.
Dad’s tools wouldnt’ care if I was showered, or had make-up, or had shaved my legs.
I was dressed ungloriously in an oversized t-shirt, boxers (that I only put on for having breakfast with Mom… I don’t like wearing underwear in bed) and white ankle socks. I felt the need and descended the stairs to the work room. I left the main basement lights off to enhance the “sneaking around” sensation. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I stumbled to the door to Dad’s work room. I turned on the main lights but decided that today warranted lower lighting. I actually turned on a small lamp on his bench that he used for additional light doing detailed work, and shut off the main overhead lights. The room was mostly in darkness and I cast an errie shadow on the wall. I closed the door, stripped off my t-shirt… and even took off my socks. The floor was cold on my bare feet, but not to the point where they ached.
My nipples were completely erect from the cold and I could see goose pimples on my breasts and arms from the dim light. I always felt so exposed undressed in there. I could feel the presence of Dad and some of his buddies that once in a while would come over to ostensibly help him with a project (but no doubt came to drink a beer or two from the small fridge beneath his work bench).
I walked to the bench and bumped into the heavy metal vice on the side (that I had violated in untold ways a few weeks before). Standing against it I let it’s cold metal handle rub against my thigh and tummy. I brought back memories of my previous time in there. Dad always put away his tools so I had to reach for a sizable wrench. while on my toes, I could feel my pubic hair brush the edge of the bench. I wondered for a moment if I’d ever left evidence of my “playing” in there. If Dad ever found a stray red pubic hair, would he think it was me?
Turning around, I leaned back on the workbench, my upper bum touching the smooth wooden edge. I closed my eyes and ran the cold steel tool over my neck, and breasts… then teased my nipples with the round end. The cold metal made my skin tingle. I ran it down my tummy and through my pubic hair and shivered. I arched my right foot, bent my knee and slid it between my thighs. I made it up to my labia which now were wet with anticipation of the next hour or so. the smooth side edge felt amazing as I slid it from back to front, brushing against my clit, and parting my now wetter lips. After a few minutes of getting myself worked up, I hopped up on the edge of the work bench.
I cast a big shadow on the opposite wall as the small light was behind my back. My curly hair looked like a lion’s mane in shadow. My bum now sat in a dusting of sawdust, and I leaned back a bit, opening my legs, and imagined again what it would be like if the men who had frequented this place were witness to me now. Nude and aroused… sitting on the work bench… legs open for all to see. I rubbed the smooth edge of the wrench faster against my pussy; then spied a chisel. A big one. The wrench was warm from contact with my body anyway. Taking the chisel from it’s hook, I carefully ran the non sharp part on my clit and over my labia. I had to be careful, but the icey cold was worth the risk. I shuddered and already felt close.
I found something suitable for insertion. A smooth handled screwdriver. It also had been used before. I hopped down and lay on the cold floor. it felt like I was on a stage, being observed by 100 masculine beings… like the tools had men’s souls in them. It helped the weird twisted excitement I got from this periodic sexual experience. Starting with my knees bent and feet apart but on the floor, I grabbed the metal end of the screwdriver and pressed the rounded handle to my now soaking pussy. It slid inside with little force and I shuddered as I felt it inside me. I began a rhythm of sliding it in and out of me and my knees almost involuntarily came back as I fucked myself with the screwdriver handle.
I was now freely blurting out expletives as I was able to engage in care-free masturbation and no risk of anyone hearing.
Electricity shot through me as I climaxed. I involuntarily bucked my hips and tossed, as the screwdriver squirted out of me and hit the floor. I must have lay there for minutes, just shudderign and enjoying the intense orgasm that i had given myself. My breathing returned to normal and I lay there for a few moments, just taking it all in.
I was very satisfied but hardly done.