Five O'Clock Shadow

It was more like two wild animals mating in the jungle, with none of the tenderness that accompanied the lovemaking that would follow. Our clothes weren't taken off so much as they were torn off, with my t-shirt never actually coming off as it hung on one arm after we tumbled onto the floor.

When we slid off the bed, I managed to have Donna on top of me as we went to the carpet along with much of the bedding. It bordered on being a savage ritual, with Donna giving as much or more than she got.

Donna was dripping wet when she pulled my cock towards her, not willing to wait for anything resembling foreplay, and although I could tell it hurt her as we forced my cock into her tight pussy, she didn't cry out for me to stop.

I know she came at least once while we performed this mating ritual, and Donna was biting my collarbone when I finally could hold back no longer and erupted inside of her, filling her womb with what felt like a ocean of my seed.

Donna cried after I came, but I was doing a little of that myself as we held each other as tight as we could, our hands finally showing the tenderness that our emotions had not allowed before this. We only took our hands off of each other long enough to get the bedding back on top of the mattress before we went back to our physical exploration and discovery.

Now my hands were gentle and moved softly over the flesh that I had uncovered so roughly before. Donna's breasts had been a bit of a shock when I had yanked her bra away from them, and I had to admit to being a bit surprised at how small they actually were after the padded bra came off.

They were about the size of lemons, and there wasn't much more to them than the puffy aureolas and plump nipples, which seemed to make the actual breasts appear even smaller. They weren't very firm either, but the more I kneaded the doughy little orbs, the more they excited me.

More like a mouthful than a handful, they were perfect for suckling on, and when Donna's initial embarassment about their size went away when she saw how delighted I was with them, she relaxed and enjoyed my affections.

"They're beautiful," I said after I managed to pull my mouth off of the tiny boobies for a second, and I concluded that Donna didn't need implants, but instead needed somebody to love her as she was, a magnificent work of art.

Donna rolled her eyes at that but was enjoying me worshipping her body like I was. I eased her onto her back and took her bicep in my hand, lifting it and pinning it down on the bedding above her head.

Donna giggled at first when I kissed her underarm, telling me that she thought I had been kidding at lunch, but I proved that I certainly wasn't.

The gentle hollow of Donna's armpit was fully exposed, and my eyes took in what had now become midnight shadow as I let my tongue slide as sensuously as I could along the scented sandpaper-like surface of her underarm.

"I'm sweaty," Donna giggled, but if she thought that the sweet moistness of her fresh perspiration did anything but excite me, she was mistaken.

Instead, I savored her raging pheromones that greeted my tongue as I licked, nibbled and chewed playfully under her arm, amazed at the dense growth of the minute seedlings that coated the pocket and even a bit further up the inside of her arm.

"I didn't say stop," Donna laughed when I finally came up for air, and I noticed that not only was she breathing more heavily, but those amazing puffy nipples now resembled stacks of dimes as they jutted up from the breasts, which were flattened with her on her back.

"Just moving over to the other side," I explained as I climbed over Donna and went to work there.

From there I lathered affection all the way down her petite frame until I reached her delta. Donna was every bit as hairy down there as I had expected - hoped - she would be.

Donna's bush was a rich, dense forest that formed a wide triangle which surrounded her sex. Her pubic hair was thick but incredibly soft on my cheeks as I let my tongue explore inside of her, licking at the tight opening that was a cauldron still brimming with our cum.

"I know I'm way too hairy," Donna would tell me later, referring to one of her husband's many critiques of her, but I assured her that that wasn't possible in my eyes, and found her irresistible in every way.

Too hairy, too flat-chested and she made lousy meatloaf, according to this guy, who I had never met but already loathed. Why then did I find this exquisite example of womanhood so exciting?

I didn't care what this clown thought, because I only knew what I loved, and I loved Donna. I mounted her again, only gently this time, because I could tell that she was sore from our initial coupling.

This time we moved as one, slowly undulating our bodies in a lazy rhythm that lasted long enough for Donna to cum twice more, her body arching and writhing as I savored watching the most wonderful sight a man can witness - a woman's orgasm that he helps create.

Donna eased me out of her shortly after than, and had me roll onto my back to finish the act. Although she didn't say it, I suspected that I was beginning to hurt her, and that was the last thing I wanted to do.

"I'll get used to you eventually, big boy," Donna chirped as she climbed between my legs and yanked my cock upright, getting me to laugh at her observation that, "I did have two kids, so I'm used to heads this big inside of me."

Donna made a point of stretching her mouth before going down on me, and she did a wonderful job of keeping her teeth out of the way as her lips slid down the crown and a little ways down the shaft.

I didn't last long, so enthralled was I by Donna's energetic bobbing of her head on the top of my cock while her hand worked the rest. I moaned that I was about to cum, but Donna kept going up and down on me until I did.

My vision blurred with the force of my orgasm, but I could well enough to watch my semen oozing out of the corners of her mouth and back down the shaft to her hand, the milky lava coating the backs of her fingers as my orgasm finally ebbed.

Donna's mouth didn't slow down when I stopped cumming, as she continued to suck on my deflating manhood, finally able to take it all in her mouth as it went limp, and only then did she raise that pretty head up triumphantly.

Donna said nothing, and merely looked up at me from between my legs while a trickle of my cum snuck out from the corner of her mouth. Her tongue darted over, much like a frog, and captured the escaping seed before breaking into a big grin.

"Get on up here," I snapped, reaching down and taking Donna into my arms and hugging her like I loved her, which was an easy thing to do.

"I really do have to go," Donna said eventually. "There is another game tomorrow night, isn't there?"

"There's a game every night," I told Donna.

****

Donna wasn't the type to sneak around behind her husband's back for long, I learned. As a matter of fact, she was late for work the next morning. I was nervous when I saw her, because she looked worn out and tired, but she was as happy as a clam, or so she said.

"I told him that I wanted a divorce," Donna explained at break time. "I told him that he was welcome to have Alison move in because I'm moving out. I'm looking for an apartment after work."

"You have an apartment," I told her. "At least until we have a place of our own."

To my delight, Donna was delighted with the invitation, but managed to restrain her reaction until we were alone later.

****

We found a bigger apartment in my building, and that's where we plan to stay until we find a house we can call our own.

Donna's former house? It's available, because Donna's former best friend rebuffed her now ex-husband when he suggested she move in with him. Alison had apparently confessed her indiscretions and patched things up with her own husband, and now needless to say Donna's ex feels a bit uncomfortable living there.

He suggested Donna buy out his share of their house but she declined that offer without thanking him for his generosity, so it's up for sale. Too many memories connected with that, Donna says, not to mention her pal Alison next door as a constant reminder of her nightmare.

"Besides, you might get tempted by those boobs of hers," Donna quipped. "They're really something."

"I don't think so," I assured Donna. "I like my women natural, and besides, I'm a one woman man."

Donna even skipped the razor for a while, after I wondered what her armpits would look like unshorn, and while they looked incredible to me, the abundant hair took some of the fun out of it for Donna. It wasn't only because she was too embarrassed to wear sleeveless tops at work either.

"I can't feel your tongue any more," Donna complained one night, and blushed while confessing that ever since that first night when I ran my tongue under her arms, she was hooked on the feeling she got from my oral affections which were a regular part of our extended foreplay.

"I can feel you tongue when you do it to me," I protested, having enjoyed Donna occassionally nuzzling under my arms, but then again, my armpits weren't nearly as furry as hers had become, as Donna herself noted.

It was fine with me either way, so Donna resumed shaving every morning, but she often lets me do the job on the weekends when we have more time. It's no job for me, it's an event that's a labor of love, with scented candles, shaving gel and background music accompanying my deft use of the razor as I make those sculptured hollows as soft and smooth as a baby's bottom.

"Only you could make shaving my underarms a sensuous affair," Donna quipped once, but she admits that I do a better job than she does, and if we had time in the mornings she would let me do it every day.

The problem is that it takes a while - not because she's so hairy, but I tend to get a bit aroused while I shave her and we get sidetracked along the way. I know it isn't just me that gets horny during this either, because I think she gets off watching how passionate and caring I am about her spectacular underarms.

I feel blessed in not only having a great marriage early in life, but after becoming resigned to living out the rest of my years alone, somehow found another woman who loves me and takes me as I am, idiosyncrasies and all.

And that woman, for today and hopefully the rest of my life, is Donna, who now has a man who never stops reminding her that her meatloaf is great, her breasts are perfect and that he adores every furry bit of her.

***************

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