I work with this woman, and while only the Summer and Fall parts actually happened, I’ve fantasized about the rest of it many times.
Chapter One: Unexpected sighting.
I was walking along the fence at a local racetrack, looking at the crowd in the stands. This was something that I found myself doing quite a lot. While the people were looking at the replay screens out in the infield, I was looking at them. Only the women, and more specifically, only the women wearing sleeveless blouses. They would stand there with their arms raised and their hands shielding their eyes from the August sun, and as they did they left their armpits completely exposed for my enjoyment.
I love a woman’s armpits. I love the way the look, they way they smell and the way they taste. The excitement of sliding my tongue through a girl’s armpit is unmatched in my book, and I’ve had the good fortune to be able to have done it to several women over the years. My wife had grown accustomed to this fetish of mine, and while I know it doesn’t do for her what it does for me, she not only accepts it but has come to enjoy the affection a little, and if we ever made love without me giving her underarms a generous amount of licking, sucking and nibbling she would think something was wrong with me. Smooth in the summer, stubbly in the spring and fall, and hairy in the winter. I love her the hairy stage best, but enjoy her armpits all year long and in every state.
Still and all, I enjoy variety, and am always on the lookout for erotic armpit sightings of other women, and that’s what I was doing on this day. I had only seen one woman with armpit hair all summer; a cute girl who came from Canada most likely, and I hung around her area for about an hour, listening to her speak her lyrical French while enjoying looking at the modest tufts of brown hair under her arms whenever she raised her slender limbs.
I didn’t spend much time looking at any girls wearing blouses with sleeves, but as I passed this one woman, I caught a glimpse of something that made me stop and backtrack casually while moving to get a better angle. It was time that was well spent, because when I went back I saw what I was looking for. The woman was wearing a white blouse with these little sleeves that sort of cap the shoulder, but when her arm was raised I was able to see her armpit clearly, and what an armpit it was.
The slight hollow of her armpit was coated with the thickest and densest stubble imaginable. Not just a day or two’s worth either. The hairs were about an inch long, and her pits had a look of a porcupine as the hairs stuck straight out. Hard to tell how long the girl had gone between shaves, but it would take my wife well over a month to get that far along, and I could only fantasize about what the woman would look like when summer turned to fall.
As I dreamed about that sight, I happened to look at her face for the first time. When I did, I nearly fainted. I knew the woman. I worked with the woman for years. It was Laura.
Chapter Two: Laura.
I had dreamed about this moment for years, and now that it was happening I cursed myself for not being able to take a picture. Laura was around 40 years old, and was rather plain looking as contemporary standards go. She had a very thick head of wavy black hair, wore big rimmed glasses, and she had a pair of extremely thick eyebrows. Almost resembling the lead character in the Ugly Betty show, I had always wished that she would come to work wearing a sleeveless blouse, because I had always suspected that she would be a hairy girl under all that clothing, but not only didn’t she ever wear sleeveless clothing, she rarely wore even short sleeved tops. When she did, the nice coating of black down on her forearms only reinforced my suspicions, but I never got so much as the briefest peek under her arms to find out. Not until today.
I ducked out of sight before she caught bingöl escort me staring at her, and when I went back to that area later she had either left or had moved somewhere else. I was stuck with that all too fleeting memory and a mess of goo in my underwear that had oozed out of me in that short time. Every time I saw her back at work after that, I fantasized about her armpits – what they looked like under those clothes, and how hairy they had may have become since that day. All I had were fantasies, until October.
Chapter Three: October.
It was a normal day at work until quitting time. I found myself at the coat rack near the door, looking at Laura as she got her coat off the hanger. She was wearing a button down sweater, which was standard apparel procedure for her, but just before she put on her coat she shook her head and went over to her desk and took off the sweater, putting it on the back of her chair. She was wearing a peach colored short-sleeved blouse, and when I saw that I stopped and dilly-dallied at the door, wanting to at least get a peek at the hair on her arms before leaving.
When she went back to putting on her coat, I was staring as much as I could get away with, and maybe she caught me staring. Perhaps that was what caused her fingers to catch in the arm hole, and when that happened, I saw what I wanted to see for so long. It only lasted a second, but it was etched in my memory forever. As her arm lifted, the sleeve rose up just long enough for me to see the thick tuft of hair that practically exploded out of hiding.
The coat went on, and I tried to pretend that I hadn’t been staring, saying goodbye to her as usual and going on my way. I wanted to say something else. I wanted to say something like, “I just got a glimpse at your armpit, and I think you’re beautiful. I wish you would wear sleeveless blouses so that I could stare at your luxurious armpit hair all day, and I would love to smother your underarms with kisses,” but I didn’t. Too gutless, and how could I work with her after that?
Besides, she was married and so was I.
Chapter Four: She paid the price.
That evening, my poor wife paid the price for what I had seen. Not that she was complaining, mind you, but she wasn’t used to get fucked three times in one night anymore. Not at our age.
“What the hell got into you last night?” she asked me the next morning, as I woke her up by licking the sparse patch hairs that had grown under her arm since Labor Day.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe because your armpits are getting furry again.”
Not as fast as they used to, and not nearly as thick and densely as Laura’s were, that was for sure. That wasn’t fair to my beautiful wife, and she probably was just as happy that as she got into middle age, her hair growth had gotten slower and in less quantity, much like my own did. It also wasn’t fair that while we were making love last night, I was inspired by fantasizing about Laura.
Reality ends and fantasy begins…
Chapter Five: Alone with Laura.
The woman sitting on the stool in the center of the room was coming to, but was still groggy. I stood behind her, holding her by the shoulders so she didn’t fall down when she actually came to her senses. Her sweater, socks, sneakers and slacks were folded neatly and resting on the other stool. The woman started mumbling something, and so I walked in front of her and looked at her.
Laura’s eyes were open, and she was in a daze, but that was to be expected. Before she drank that drink at our Christmas Party, all of those clothes were on her body. Now she was nude, except for her bra and panties. The handcuffs on her wrists had a rope tied between them, and I had slung the rest of the rope over the girder above her head, with the loose end in my hand, ready to hoist it up and tie it down when needed.
I had a gag for her mouth but hoped bitlis escort to not need it, since the storage unit we were standing in was well out of town, and well out of earshot. I had left her glasses on, keeping that plain and innocent look intact, and I felt safe since I was wearing a hood and trench-coat. I had even taken the precaution of getting something to disguise my voice. Laura would never recognize me, and after I had my fun, she would be released unharmed. Until then, she was mine.
“What?” Laura said, holding her wrists up and looking at the cuffs for a second.
When she realized that she was practically naked, she crossed her hands in front of her chest in a sad attempt to cover herself, as if I couldn’t have looked all I wanted prior to this moment. I was planning on looking at her tits, but my main interests were elsewhere.
“Relax, Laura,” I said into the toy microphone, and it sounded like I was Darth Vader in the tin room, dark and ominous. “No harm will come to you.”
“What? Why?” were the best she could come with in terms of questions.
“You’ll find out,” I said, walking around behind her again as I slowly pulled on the rope, and while her wrists began getting raised, she began to panic, jumping off the stool and trying to get away.
That was a waste of time, and within a minute Laura was standing on her toes while the rope raised her arms as high as possible while still allowing her feet to stay on the ground.
She looked wonderful from the rear, as her physique showed considerable definition with each muscle and tendon rippling from the strain. I ran my hands around her shoulder blades, sorely tempted to let my hands go around and check her armpits out. I couldn’t wait to look at her from the front, but decided to first get rid of the bra. I had taken the straps and pulled them down off her shoulders earlier, so it was merely a matter of undoing the two hooks on the back, which I did one at a time.
“34A?” I said loudly after undoing the first hook, and I would have figured her to be larger by at least a cup size, and after I undid the last hook I let the bra fall off of her.
“Rather small up top, aren’t you?” I mused after my hands came around and cupped the modest sized cones. “I like little tits.”
I’m sure that being stretched out like this made her tits look and feel smaller than they would normally, but like I said, I had other interests.
I let go of her tits and came around to face her.
“Please don’t hurt me,” Laura whimpered.
That was the farthest thing from my mind, and when I saw her from the front, I almost popped my load right then and there.
Her armpits were overflowing with wild jungles of jet black hair. My hands came up and touched the moist, dense tufts of hair; and as I raked my fingers through her armpits, she shivered and squirmed.
I took her glasses off and wrapped a blindfold around her eyes, and once I was sure that she couldn’t see, I pulled off my hood and buried my sweaty face under her arm. My tongue lapped at the soft fur, tasting and inhaling the sweaty and sweet mixture of deodorant and perspiration, and after I lapped at the forest, I grabbed her pit hair in my clenched fists and gave it a firm pull, causing her to cry out a little bit.
I grabbed her plump nipples and twisted the thick pegs before sliding my hands downward, pausing to tickle her prominent ribs on the way. Her panties were very conservatively cut, but even though they rode high on her, there was still a visible trail of hair that rose from the top of the elastic up to her navel. Black hair also sprouted out of the elastic on the sides of the panties, and I could see that hair grew out onto the insides of her thighs as well.
“You’re an incredibly hairy woman, aren’t you Laura?” I asked her while moving my hand across the front of her panties, where the outline of bolu escort her bush was clearly outlined. As I touched the cotton while running my hand up down the front, I was shocked at how damp the cotton was.
“Did you soil yourself, you naughty girl? I asked, before doing a double take.
“You’re wet!” I said loudly. “You’re dripping wet! You like this, don’t you?”
“No,” Laura whimpered, squirming as I rubbed her harder.
“Yes you are,” I told her, and yanked her panties down.
Her bush was a furry black pillow that covered her delta and beyond, and when I touched the springy hair, there was no doubt about how aroused she had become over my passionate attack on her armpits.
“You’re loving this – don’t lie to me!” I said, probing between her legs roughly.
The hair that surrounded her sex was so wild and dense that if she hadn’t been wet it might have been tough to find the opening, but I had no problem with her dripping like this. I slipped two fingers inside of her, and her legs quivered as she hung helplessly.
“Please,” Laura cried out.
I grabbed her right leg and lifted it up to her side, putting her foot on the stool. My hand stroked her pussy, reaching between her legs and discovering that she had hair growing all the way to her asshole.
“Fuck you?” I sneered, gently spanking her pussy with my open hand. “You want to fuck you? You want my cock inside of that incredible hairy pussy of yours?”
“Yes. Please… please,” she kept saying.
I opened my trench-coat, my cock throbbing as my erection swung wildly in front of me, and as I came close to her my voice was little more than a growl.
“Is this what you want?” I sneered, grabbing her head and forcing her to look downward, and as I did that I nudged the blindfold up a bit so she could get a look at what she was asking for.
My cock, while quite normal in length, is what you might call abnormally thick, and apparently Laura thought so as well, given the startled gasp that came out of her before I readjusted the blindfold to block her vision.
“Where do you want it?” I snapped, rubbing the head of my cock around the parted lips of her pussy. “Your cunt or your asshole?”
“NO!” Laura cried out as I pushed the head of my dick into her opening. “Not my bottom.”
“Too fat,” Laura sniffed. “Please don’t. Not in my ass.”
“Is this where you want it then?” I half-yelled at her, thrusting my hips upward so that half of my cock popped into her pussy.
“OH! Yes! Easier… please.”
Her words inflamed me, so much so that I thrust myself all the way inside of her, my face once again diving into her armpit, where I licked and chewed the hairs like an animal. Laura howled as I tore into her, grabbing her hips to keep her close to me as she hung in that awkward position, and as I fully impaled her time and time again, she let out a yell that sent shivers down my spine.
I pulled my cock out, and as I did, her pussy spewed out a volley of fluids, splattering on the floor and down the inside of her thigh. Laura’s body danced madly as she hung suspended from the ropes, a crazed marionette having the orgasm of her life, and the sight so inflamed me that my cock spurted jets of cum all over her bush in a extended staccato, until her pussy jungle was draped with ropes of my seed that hung on the hairs like garland on a tree.
I eased her down to the floor, undoing the rope and unlocking the cuffs as I covered her with a blanket, Laura’s body still shivering from the force of her orgasm. Figuring that they must be sore after all of that, I rubbed her shoulders and upper arms, kneading the muscles and bringing feeling back into them, and then after making sure she was alright I set her clothes next to her and headed for the door.
“Hello?” Laura called out meekly, looking toward me with the blindfold still around her eyes.
“Can I… see you again?” Laura asked timidly.
“Next week – same time same place,” I told her, closing the door behind me and heading home.
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