“I don’t understand,” my neighbor said, her dark brown eyes wide open as she struggled to comprehend what was going on.
What had started out just like the last few nights, an innocent game of rummy in the kitchen of her modest little apartment had changed dramatically in the last few minutes due to my actions and words.
My words had come easy because they were what was going on through my mind even since I had met Tara a few months ago, but even though I was the one that said them I couldn’t believe that I had actually said them aloud.
“I want to see you naked,” I had told her, and then I had told her that I wanted to see her naked and then lick her body from head to toe.
She didn’t understand. That was something she had said several times after I told her what I wanted. What would a young boy want with a 51 year old woman?
First of all, I’m 19 and while that’s not all that old I’m not a kid even though my Mom always tells me to grow up. I am a bit immature, or so I’ve been told, but I’ve also been told I’m cute although that praise usually came from doting aunts and the like. Tara even told me that when we first met and I eagerly ran an errand for her.
As for Tara being 51, that I didn’t know. I figured she was more like my Mom’s age, mid 40’s or so. Tara’s black hair doesn’t have a hint of gray in it, and it’s so black that it’s like another color all together.
That hair color is natural, or at least that was my guess because I hadn’t seen any evidence of hair coloring kits in her bathroom like my Mom uses, and given her very modest income from her job in the school cafeteria I was pretty sure she couldn’t afford to go to a beauty parlor.
Snooping around her bathroom cabinets under the pretense of having to go I learned quite a bit about Tara but what I didn’t find was even more interesting that what I saw.
No razors or shaving cream either, and I checked the cabinets and the shower as well. That meant that what I had suspected from a fleeting glimpse up the baggy sleeve of her blouse might in fact true. She didn’t shave her armpits, and maybe nowhere else either because she always wore slacks and socks.
Was it because she was a feminist who didn’t believe in shaving? More likely it may have been because when you’re an old maid living alone there was no reason to bother. Goodness knows she probably didn’t suspect that the goofy kid down the hall was trying to peek up her sleeves.
I was just a kid she had befriended, and when she found out that I liked to play rummy she suggested we play on nights I had nothing to do. Since that covered just about every night, I had become a fixture and since Tara always welcomed me I assume the same was true of her.
So she played cards at her kitchen table and even bought beer for us to drink despite me not being old enough. Maybe the beer had helped loosen my tongue. Who knows?
Every evening we sat kitty corner from each other and played, and while she studied her cards I studied Tara. Memorized her every feature and had imagined what was underneath her clothes as well.
Tara was a native of India with only a faint trace of an accent, and spoke English better than most of us born here. She also was thrilled to be in America, having become a citizen as soon as she could and made no secret of how much she loved it her, only regretting that her family hadn’t come here earlier.
Her skin was a deep brown and while she didn’t smile all that much at first I could see she had nice teeth that stood out nicely on her pleasantly attractive face.
She had small tits which figured since at 5’1″ and maybe 100 pounds at best she was a petite woman to say the least. She wore a 34A bra that was padded, with that information coming from a peek through her hamper, and Tara wore size 5 panties.
I had fished one of those panties out from the hamper as well, a very frumpy full cut pair that even my Mom would find too square, but when I bought them to my face and inhaled around the slight discoloration in front I got something besides a blast of pungent scent.
A hair. A solitary black hair caught in the bunched elastic, and just seeing that made me hard. Tara was a hairy woman, and I didn’t get that from actually seeing that hair. There were other hints that led me to that conclusion as well.
There was the hint of a moustache she had. Just a faint down but noticeable to an observant guy like me, and then there were her sideburns. Not thick muttonchops but a swirl of black down that swooped around the fronts of her ears, and then there were her arms.
That had been my downfall, having to sit next to those tiny brown limbs with the long fine black hairs that went from her wrists up to where her short sleeves blocked any further view.
And then there was me craning my neck in an attempt to look up her sleeve every time she lifted the quart of beer to pour another glass. This was only the second time she wore anything as “daring” as short sleeves, but this was the first time I had touched her.
Unable to restrain myself I had interrupted her in mid-deal, reaching over to put my hand on her forearm, and when she froze I let my hair slide slowly up and down her arm.
The hair was every bit as soft as it had looked, and after letting my fingers made the hairs billow in their wake I saw her brown skin become covered with goose bumps.
“I love this,” I had mumbled as the hairs began to stand up like a porcupine’s, and while Tara had first given me a nervous smile that smile gave away to a nervous expression that continued as I continued to rub her hairy arm.
“I don’t understand,” Tara had said although she didn’t stop me from letting my palm travel up her forearm until the sleeve stopped me, something I had wanted to do all night.
A lot of guys didn’t find this sexy – probably most fellas – and maybe at the school she worked at kids perhaps commented that instead of making the cafeteria women wear nets on their heads they should make Miss Tara Pardha wear them on her arms.
I did. I blame that on my old man, whose porn stash I had uncovered in the attic a while back. Maybe I had inherited this fondness I had regarding women’s body hair from him. Those photos and magazines sure suggested Dad liked hairy women as did Mom’s armpits, which I had managed to find out after a lot of peeking and spying were not shaved. She didn’t wear anything sleeveless around the house and that was probably a good thing.
“I just think you’re very sexy,” I explained as my hands kept lightly stroking her forearm. “I love women with hairy arms – and hair anywhere else too.”
“I don’t,” Tara said as she struggled to comprehend my tastes. “In America, all the women – they remove all their air. Everywhere I look – on the TV or in the magazines – all the women are smooth everywhere.”
“I know,” I said. It wasn’t always like this but it is now.”
“I tried at first to be like everyone else Jimmy. I bought razors and shaved under my arms and my legs, but the hair grows back so fast,” Tara lamented. “Also, I think it doesn’t help that I’m very hairy. My mother was hairy too but not compared to me. I’m like a man in that way, even more so.”
“You’re definitely a woman and I’m very attracted to you.”
“I’m an old woman Jimmy,” Tara told me. “This makes no sense. A boy like you – you should find a girl your own age.”
“I thought you liked me,” I protested.
“I do. Very much so,” Tara admitted. “But what would your mother say?”
“I’m not a child Tara,” I assured her, and if my old man was still alive I know what he would say, especially if he saw Tara’s arms. “I’m not hurting you am I? Doesn’t this feel good?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “That’s what is bothering me, at least in part. This is not right.”
“What’s not right? I like you and you say you like me,” I insisted, and after Tara nodded in affirmation I continued. “We’re both loners and alone. I think you’re beautiful.”
“My head is spinning,” Tara said, putting her other hand on her head but continuing to let me rub her other arm even though if I kept it up I might wear the hairs off.
Tara’s arm hair wasn’t downy soft like an old girlfriends of mine’s was but a little more coarse, although nothing like a man’s probably was, and I wondered what the rest of her was like.
“What is it you want of me?” she said in a voice that sounded as confused as her expression indicated.
“I want to touch you. I just want you to let me touch you all over,” I declared. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”
“You say that now,” Tara said. “Things happen though.”
“I swear. Just let me touch you. We could go into the bedroom, you could get undressed and I could give you – like a massage I guess. I want to see you beautiful you are.”
“I am 51 years old Jimmy, and even when I was younger I didn’t look like the ladies in your Playman magazines.”
“Playboy you mean, and I know you don’t look like that and I’m so glad of that,” I said, and when I glanced down and saw that my lap had a massive wet stain on it I was afraid I was going to cum soon. “Please? You tell me to stop I will stop.”
“You promise Jimmy?” Tara asked, and after I nodded like a puppy she told me to stay where I was.
Tara got up and went into the bedroom, but as she did I saw the outline of her nipples pushing out into the blouse and the bra and the padding, and it wasn’t cold in her apartment.
A couple of minutes later Tara called me, and after I went down the hall and made the turn I could see Tara standing by her bed. She was wearing a bra and panties, and I wanted to see her better but she told me as soon as I walked in, “No lights. If you turn the light on I will never speak to you again.”
“I won’t,” I said, and then Tara got onto her bed, and as she positioned herself on the sheets like a corpse I approached slowly while asking if she minded if I took my clothes off.
“You soiled yourself,” Tara said, and although I was embarrassed I explained to her what happened when a guy was aroused, and I thought that I had a real problem in that regard.
“I told you I thought you were the sexiest woman in the world,” I said as I began peeling off my pants and gooey underwear.
Tara turned away when my dick sprang into view, and I guess that the size of my dick surprised here, although while it’s very long it’s also really thin, and one one girl called me needle dick I couldn’t argue. When I looked down at Tara I discovered that while the room was darkened with only a little street light leaking through the blinds, my eyes were adjusting.
Tara looked so sweet there, with her brown body so striking against the background of the white sheets and her white undergarments, and looking up like she was about to be operated on. Even with her arms pinned to her sides I could see the black hairs peeking out from the folds of her arms.
“I don’t have any lotions or whatever it is you use,” Tara croaked nervously.
“It doesn’t matter,” I assured her because I didn’t need any and furthermore, “I don’t know what they use anyway. I’ve never done this before.”
“You never did this to that Emily girl you were seeing?” Tara asked.
“Emily? How do you know about Emily?” I asked.
“I saw you with her a few times a while back,” Tara said, and the fact that she had noticed that I existed excited me because I thought I was just a goofy kid to her.
“No, Emily wouldn’t have let me do this,” I said honestly, although she didn’t stop me from doing other things, and as I let my hand fall on the ankle that was next to my hip I explained “She only liked me to do things she thought were – normal I guess.”
“And this is not normal?” Tara asked as my hand landed on her ankle, where I learned that she did not shave her legs and the lower calf my fingers were on was definitely hairy and the hairs were crinkly to the touch.
“It is to me,” I said while running my hand upstream, letting the black hairs sifting through my fingers. “I just love hairy women. Never saw a woman with hairy legs before. I like it a lot. I know I’m weird.”
“Not really,” Tara said, seeming to relax as she watched me rubbing her calves. “My grandfather – he also liked hairy girls. I became hairy very young and he would do me what you were doing out in the kitchen, just rub the hair on my arms and ankles. He never did anything else to me although if he did I would not have stopped him. He made me feel special.”
“You are special,” I assured her as my hand kept rubbing.
“I met a man years ago,” Tara continued. “He liked my hairy body and told me he loved me. We even moved in together and I thought I was in love.”
“I thought so. Then he said he wanted to take pictures of me. He said that he wanted to always remember how sexy I was because he was sure I would leave him someday,” Tara explained. “He didn’t have a job most of the time and I was supporting us but I didn’t care because I loved him and loved being accepted as I was. I told him that he didn’t need pictures because I seldom have clothes on when you’re around and you can look at me all the time and I never said no to anything he asked me to do.”
“The pictures. He was a very good photographer and the pictures came out very well but then he started pressing me to take my clothes off. Before I knew it he was taking pictures of me nude and had been showing everything. With my legs apart and my arms raised to show how hairy I am. Then he wanted me to pose with another man and I refused.”
“Then he said, what about posing with another girl? I wouldn’t have to do anything but stand there naked and let her touch me, so I finally did it just to please him. Then I found out that he was selling the pictures to a company that put them in magazines so the world thinks I’m like that.”
“Oh,” I replied, feeling guilty not only because my old man might have bought one of them but also for wishing I could have seen a picture of Tara with another girl.
“So that is why I’m very cautious – suspicious.”
“I understand. You can trust me but I’ll earn that trust. No cameras or anything like that. Just my eyes and hands.”
“You have very soft hands,” Tara remarked.
“My girl friend – ex-girlfriend,” I said. “I kept asking her to stop shaving her armpits for a while but she refused. She said I had a fetish. I guess I do.”
“There are worse things,” Tara replied.
“I love your panties,” I said as my eyes went up to the white cotton undies that were something a grandmother would wear. “I was hoping you would take them off but this is nice too. I love the way the hairs stick out the sides.”
I let my hands go up to Tara’s upper thighs, and my heart fluttered a bit when I stroked the wayward hairs.
“You are dripping,” Tara commented, and when I glanced down at my bobbing erection I could see a long string of pre-cum hanging from the tip.
“Sorry,” I said as it fell off and onto the sheets.
“You are very large,” Tara said, biting her lips as she looked at my dick. “Such a large penis for a little boy.”
“I’m 19,” I reminded her even though my boyish features suggested differently. “My dick is long but it’s really skinny. I’ve gotten kidded about it before.”
“That’s not very nice. I know what it feels like to be made fun of. Your penis is very beautiful though. Some men’s aren’t but yours is very attractive. The most appealing part is that it is aroused while looking at me. It is so hard it curls upwards.”
“I know,” I replied as my hands went up from her hips and rubbed her stomach, admiring the trail of black hairs that started just under her belly button and widened until disappearing into her panties.
“Here,” Tara said as she reached up and undid her bra which had a front clasp, and as she pulled the cups from her breasts she suggested. “It’s not as if I need the harness.”
“Nonsense,” I said, and although her breasts were even smaller than I had imagined – due in part to her being on her back – Tara’s nipples were large, the chocolate hued pegs looking erotic on the small swells of her breasts which were mostly areola. “They’re beautiful.”
“Hair everywhere,” Tara lamented, nodding toward the little hairs around the edges of her areolas, and while there weren’t a lot of them I suspected that if she knew she would be exposing her breasts she would have plucked them out.
“Nice,” I suggested, and then asked, “Tara, could you lift your arms? That’s it – put your hands behind your neck.”
“Like this?” Tara asked, and when I nodded I noticed sweat from my forehead dropping on Tara’s stomach.
I had seen plenty of women with unshaven armpits in pictures and in movies, but seeing Tara in all her natural glory was amazing. This wasn’t like craning my neck to peek up her sleeves. She was exposing her unconventionally beautiful self to me, which I thought was courageous.
The black tufts of hair that filled her armpits was so dense and inviting that I couldn’t help myself from reaching up and touching them, and then I let my fingers slide into the little jungles, finding the slightly moist fur soft and warm.
“You enjoy this?” Tara asked about my lightly raking her armpit hair, and when I nodded she smiled and added. “It feels nice – as nice as the look on your face. You are such a sweet young man to treat a woman so lovingly.”
I shrugged because what can you say to that? I leaned down and kissed Tara lightly on the lips before moving over and kissing her armpits, savoring the natural scent of her and reveling in the springy nature of her hair.
“I know you want sex – but I cannot – at least not now,” Tara whispered in my ear. “I also know that you are very aroused and need release.”
That was obvious, and I was prepared to take care of that myself as soon as Tara got tired of me playing with her body, but she had other ideas.
“I would like to help you Jimmy,” Tara said. “If you trust me.”
Trust Tara? I would have walked over hot coals for her, so when she had me straddle her so my right knee was in her crotch – my kneecap pressed into the very soggy cotton and my left knee was at her side – it was no problem.
“You must not touch yourself Jimmy,” Tara explained as she had me put my hands on my hips while my raging erection waved over her stomach. “Allow me to do the touching.”
“Okay,” I wheezed as she brought her right hand down from behind her neck while leaving her left hand where it was behind her head, serving the dual purposes of keeping her face pointed at me while affording me the opportunity to look at her left armpit.
“I have not touched a man in many years,” Tara said as her hand moved up between my spread thighs, and when she got to my dangling balls I couldn’t help the pathetic moan that came out of me. “Then again, few men seem to delight in looking at me. Does this feel good?”
“Yes,” I grunted while Tara rolled my nuts around in her little brown paw as the wicked little smile on her face indicated she enjoyed my reaction.
“What do you call these – your testicles I mean? I know the slang words for a man’s organ but like to use the word penis.”
“Balls – nuts,” I grunted in sweet agony.
“Balls. I like that,” Tara said. “You have nice balls Jimmy. They are large like your penis, and I can feel how full of your seed they are. Does this hurt?”
“No,” I choked as I felt her gently twist them a little. “Feels good.”
“And this?” Tara asked, twisting them a little more, and she kept asking while her hand kept working and I kept saying no.
“I would not want to hurt your beautiful balls,” Tara explained as she went back to gently kneading my sac. “I had almost twisted them into a knot.”
“Felt good,” I admitted.
“And you want release don’t you Jimmy?” She asked and I nodded. “Your penis is dripping like sap from a tree. Your balls must be overflowing. I think you want to touch yourself don’t you?”
“Yes – you said not to though.”
“That’s right. Isn’t this fun though?”
“Do you play with yourself often?” Tara asked.
“Yes – a lot more lately,” I admitted. “Think of you when I do it.”
“Oh,” Tara said, but she didn’t seem upset, instead saying, “I like the idea of that. Push your knee more into me. That’s it.”
Now my bony knee was really grinding into her crotch and Tara seemed to be pushing herself into it as well, her eyes looking a little glazed.
“I would like to see that sometime,” Tara said as I felt her fingers move up to the area right under my dick. “The sight of you stroking yourself would be very erotic to me. Do you use one hand or two?”
“One – my fist.”
“You are large enough to use both,” Tara said, and then I felt her finger slide ever so slowly along the underside of my cock, running lightly over the veiny undercarriage as she kept talking.
“Such a long penis you have Jimmy.” she whispered as her finger neared the cleft on the underside of my dick. “I have never experienced a man your size inside of me – perhaps someday I will. Would you be gentle?”
“Yes,” I practically cried as her finger reached the tip of my dick which was drooling wildly.
“But what if I didn’t want you to be gentle?” Tara asked as she brought her finger up to her mouth and sucked on the gooey digit like it was a dick. “What if I wanted to you to savage me?”
“What if I asked you to take me anally?” she asked while bringing her hand up between my legs again while practically humping my knee, and while the temperature in the room was normal the humidity hung in the air like a fog. “Have you ever done that to a woman? Have you ever put your long manhood into a woman’s anus?”
“No,” I sobbed as my aching balls got milked some more.
“Someday perhaps – Jimmy – you’re sweating so much.”
“So are you,” I blurted out, having noticed the beads of perspiration on Tara’s forehead as well as the rivulets of sweat pouring down from her bushy armpit.
“Yes,” Tara said in a voice that sounded ragged as my own. “I think I’m going to have an orgasm soon – I want you to join me.”
“Trying not to,” I gasped.
“Wait for me,” Tara implored me, now thrusting her crotch into me so hard that bed was bumping the wall. “Soon very soon. Want to see you – want to see your penis erupt – cover me with your seed.”
“Can’t hold it,” I said – or maybe I screamed while Tara was pushing the underside of my cock hard, and then I felt dizzy.
I wanted to reach down and jerk myself off which would take less than a second, but I didn’t. Instead I reached up and grabbed my hair, and then my dick erupted.
Tara was cackling madly, her thighs grabbing my leg while my cock sprang around crazily, spurting my milky white cum all over her brown body in an orgasm that didn’t seem to want to end.
When my head cleared I could see that not only had I drenched poor Tara with my ejaculations but she had cum too and for the first time actually touched my cock. Her hand had grabbed my deflating dick and was pulling it downward as if to milk every drop out of me.
“I made a mess,” I mentioned, but Tara just smiled and welcomed me down to embrace her.
“All gooey and hairy and sweaty,” she commented as we hugged.
“And I’m loving it,” I assured Tara, and to prove it I brought her wrist back towards her headboard and buried my face under her arm, licking the salty thicket like a hungry puppy.
“That’s it Jimmy. Lick my bushy armpits. Suck on it,” Tara insisted as her other face pushed my face in to emphasize how much she enjoyed it too.
“Two can play at that,” Tara soon responded, and after I let her overpower me and put me onto my back she leaned over me and pinned me down. “I noticed while you had your hands up before that my armpits are much hairier than yours.”
“Your legs are too,” I said as she giggled just before lowering her face into my armpit and licking the tiny wisps of hair, the sensation of her tongue making me shiver and turning me on.
“Omigod yes,” I said.
“Tomorrow night if you come over for rummy don’t use deodorant,” Tara said. “It burns the tongue and besides I love the smell of a man. I miss that.”
“Anything you want. This has been the most amazing experience I’ve ever had,” I said. “We don’t have to play rummy though.”
“I think we should Jimmy. I think the anticipation adds to the excitement,” Tara explained. “Now that I know that I wasn’t imagining it when I sensed to looking at me the way you did along with the way you embrace how hirsute I am, I feel more at ease.”
“Whatever you say.”
“We’ll take it very slow,” Tara informed me. “We will explore each other like peeling the layers of an onion, or until you get bored with me.”
“Bored?” I said as I rolled over onto my side to face her. “Do I look bored?”
“No, you don’t Jimmy,” Tara admitted as she felt my stiffening dick press against her hairy thigh. “And I certainly won’t get bored with you. You have me wondering what it will feel like one day to have 200 millimeters of man inside me.”
“200 millimeters?” I asked while admitting. “I never did get the metric system but it sounds impressive. Did you mean what you said before – about your bottom I mean?”
“In time perhaps,” Tara said. “Although you might not like what you find back there.”
“I’m very hairy back there too,” she said with a laugh.
“What a surprise!” I roared as we hugged and kissed, a 51 year old woman sounding and acting like a kid and me, feeling like a man for once and unashamed of what I enjoyed for the first time in my life.