Forbidden Furry Fruit

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Unlike down by the pond, this time I was the aggressor. I had Kenya on her back, and starting at the forehead I kissed my way down her sleek torso, trying to lick and nibble every pore of her body. I sucked on those plump purplish/brown nipples which stuck out proudly from her breasts, which were nearly non-existent with Kenya on her back, and enjoyed the way my young lover squirmed in response.

Downward I traveled, over her rib cage and down her flat stomach, licking her belly button, which made Kenya giggle. Just below her indented navel, a thin trail of hairs began, and the lower I went the thicker the trail became until it reached the timberline of her bush.

This was no neatly trimmed triangle of hair designed to hide neatly inside a pair of panties. Kenya's pussy hair was just as thick and dense as her armpit hair, and it had a springy quality to it as my face disappeared in the jungle.

Finding her sex was no problem, because she was dripping wet, and it suddenly struck me that Kenya was just as turned on as I was. While I had no problem explaining my lust for this beautiful creation, I had no idea what my appeal was, but was not going to complain.

The taste and smell of Kenya's sex was not unlike the few others I had sampled. Similar, but only more of it, and as I licked my way inside of Kenya I felt her hands on my head, pushing me closer while her legs churned in the bedding.

I took my time, savoring the experience that I had missed so badly, and while I might have kept my young lover on the brink of orgasm a bit long, when Kenya came it was worth it. Her screams would have brought the police to a more populated area, a howling so wild and feral sounding that even with her thighs crushing my ears it was piercing.

Kenya had worked her way half off the bed by then, so when her body stopped shaking I got up on my knees and pulled her back on the bed. She looked down at my cock, which was fully re-energized to my relief, and parted her thighs so I could slip between them.

"Ooh, Mr. Taylor," Kenya sighed as I rubbed the head of my cock along her opening.

"Art," I said, the thought of being called Mr. Taylor by the girl I was about to violate too bizarre.

"Sorry - Art," Kenya said as her pearly whites shined. "Waited a long time for this - don't make me wait no more."

I knew that judging my the way she had performed down at the pond is was highly unlikely that Kenya was a virgin, but she felt like it as I pushed my cock into her tight pussy, and after I had fully impaled her we went a little crazy.

Later that evening we would make love the way I was used to, with tenderness and softness, but the first time was pure unchained lust, and I don't know whose behavior shocked me more, Kenya's or mine.

She had either created something inside of me, or being with her just unleashed something that was inside of me all along. Either way, if Kenya wasn't just as crazy and vulgar as I was, I would have felt differently about it, but she gave as well as she took.

Her mouth was filthy, imploring me to fuck her harder and faster, telling me all the things a man wants to hear, and spitting it out so good that I didn't care if it was true or not.

"Split me in two, Mr. Taylor," Kenya hissed in my ear as I tried to do just that, the feeling of her nails tearing into my back like a whip was being applied. "Gimme all of that big fat cock!"

During that ten minutes or so of maniacal behavior, I went back and forth from being Mr. Taylor and Art, and she even slipped in the word I didn't like, but I was too far gone to care.

I was doing something I thought I might never do again, and I was doing it with someone who I would never had dreamed of actually doing it with. Had I fantasized about it? Guilty. I had though about the forbidden fruit on more that one occasion, but Kenya was too young, and I was not that kind of guy. Now Kenya was a woman, and what a woman she was.

She came just before I did, but as I kept thrusting into her limp body she kept imploring me, twisting my nipples and telling me to fill her with my cum, and after I did I remained suspended over her, my sweat pouring down on her as I knelt down to kiss her before collapsing on the bed next to her.

"Lotsa times when you dream about something happening, when it actually does happen it turns out to be a letdown," Kenya mused as we stared at the ceiling. "Not this time. That was so good!"

"You didn't know I had a crush on you back in the day?" Kenya said as I rolled onto my hip to face her. "Oh, I used to dream that one day you would make a move on me."

"I couldn't do that," I said as I looked over the glistening ebony goddess stretched out beside me. "You were just a child."

"I know, but when you're a kid you have dreams," Kenya explained. "My dream men were Mr. Taylor and Billy Dee Williams. After you and your wife got divorced I used to ride my bike past here, hoping you would see me."

"Probably in here drunk," I said. "I wasn't much for a while back then."

"I didn't care. I would always wish that you would forget that I was kid and would make me a woman."

"I had no idea," I said as my hand went over Kenya's smooth flat stomach, over the swell of her breast and under her arm, the allure of the soggy forest irresistible.

"Emily used to tell me - girl if you want the boys to go for you, you should shave your pits," Kenya recalled as I toyed with the little seedlings that grew on the inside of her arm. "I used to say that I didn't have any interest in boys. I wanted to attract men. Boys would just call me a nappy headed... sorry. I always thought men would be more classy that that. Some are."

"Have you ever - you know - shaved?"

"Sure," Kenya said as she observed me raking my fingernails through the thicket. "Couple days ago."

Kenya managed to keep a straight face for a few seconds until the shocked look on my face proved too much, and after we stopped laughing she continued.

"I did in the beginning, but after a while it was like by the end of the day it looked like I hadn't bothered so I gave up. Lucky there were a few hippie girls in school so that took the pressure off, but they ain't like me."

"Nobody's like you, Kenya" I said. "Your name, your smile..."

"I mean nobody is this hairy," Kenya mused. "I mean, you ever see anybody as hairy as me?"

"Sure," I said, trying to think of someone. "My wife..."

"I seen pictures of Mrs. Taylor," Kenya said. "Emily showed me some family pictures one time and she turned red when I pointed out that her Mom didn't shave her pits back then. She wasn't nearly as hairy as me, but that was when I figured out you liked women natural."

"Very observant," I said, kissing her armpit and looking at Kenya through the bush.

"You keep doing that and you better be ready to do something about it," Kenya chuckled. "Don't be getting me all fired up less you can put out the fire."

"You enjoy me playing around with your armpit hair?"

"Course I do," Kenya said. "I like it when people check out my pits too, long as they don't get nasty about it. You would be surprised at how many people dig the way I look. Most won't admit it, but you can tell my the way they look that they do. I get off on watching them watching me. And the way you devour them, that's a real turn-on."

"Oh, I thought I was the only one that was enjoying it," I said. "Now that I - what are you doing?"

"See how you like it," Kenya said as she climbed up to her knees and pinned my hand back to the headboard, and with a devilish grin ran her fingers through the hair under my arm. "Not as hairy as me, but let's see how you taste."

"Omigod, I'm so sweaty," I gasped as Kenya ran her serpent-like tongue through my armpit, pulling up a few hairs with her lips.

"Didn't bother you any, did it?" Kenya cackled. "I think we both sweaty and funky. Nasty but nice, ain't it?"

"I guess," I groaned as Kenya swooped down and bit and chewed much like I had, and soon she was sprawled over me as we licked each other's armpits.

"Your dick is getting hard again," Kenya snorted. "I can feel it. You like this, don't you?"

"Love it," I grunted back, and after a few more minutes of armpit play I was fully erect and we were making love, and this time it was more restrained. No less passionate, but more like the was I was more used to, and thankfully I was able to pull it off.

"Mr. Taylor," Kenya said after we lay exhausted in each other's arms. "Art, I mean. I love everything natural but I think I really got to take a shower before I go home."

"How about WE take one?" I suggested, and Kenya seemed delighted at that prospect.

"Excuse me Art," Kenya said after we had been in the shower for about 5 minutes, most of which had been spent scrubbing Kenya's left armpit. "We gonna run out of warm water at the rate you goin'."

She was right, so I sped up my lathering of her lithe body, working right down to her feet, noticing for the first time that Kenya had a little hair on the inside of her calves as well, and after rinsing her off I let her soap me up.

The way she touched me was so special, bringing back memories of showers taken long ago when I was younger and in love, that I was shocked when Kenya asked me to spread my legs. In the cramped shower it wasn't easy, but when she had me the way she wanted, she knelt behind me.

"Ooh!" I moaned when I felt Kenya begin cleaning my back side rather intimately, and as her soapy finger slid into my anus she asked me if I liked it.

"Don't hurt, do it?" she asked as her long finger slid deep inside of me while I grabbed the shower wall to brace myself.

"No," I managed to say as the soaping continued, and then I felt something else down there, rubbing against my puckered ring. Not a finger. "Omigod!"

"Could tell you liked that," Kenya cackled as her finger went back in, and then her other hand reached under and grabbed my dangling dick. "You like it in the ass?"

"This feels good," I said, not wanting to admit that this was new to me.

"No, I meant fucking, silly," she giggled. "You want to fuck me in the ass?"

"Now?" I said as Kenya continued to probe my anus while milking my cock like I was a cow, and while it felt good I had just cum three times over the last few hours and knew I could never get it up again.

"No, next time," Kenya explained. "You're kinda big but I'll give it a try if you want to."

"Next time?"

"What? You think this is a one night stand?" Kenya retorted. "I waited too long for this so I figure I got you until I go to school next month. Unless you got a woman, that is."

"I guess I do now," I chuckled while my dick tingled.

"Good - hey - is your dick getting hard?"

"No, but..." I started to say, but it felt like I got an electric shock from my toes up, and then I was cackling as Kenya's milking somehow got results.

"You cumming again!" Kenya whooped as she watched my flaccid organ squirt semen into the tub. "How you do that?"

"I didn't do it, you did," I said while begging Kenya to stop because I couldn't take it any more.

The water started getting chilly so we exited and dried each other off, and after dressing I drove her home. Kenya made me stop a little down the street, explaining that her Daddy didn't like to see her getting out of the car of a strange man.

"And you, Art, are strange!"

"I know," I admitted.

"I meant that in a good way," Kenya said.

"I know that too."

"Going to come down tomorrow and be my lifeguard after work?" Kenya asked before leaving the car.

"Supposed to rain tomorrow."

"Well then, why don't I just go to your house so we don't waste time," she suggested.

"You get out at 6?" I asked, and when she nodded I told her I'd pick her up at the store.

"Uh, better not," Kenya said.

"Oh, guess you would feel creepy having people see you with me."

"Me, hell no!" Kenya said. "I just don't think people around here would like it if their friendly insurance man was seen picking up a - I won't say it, but you know what I mean."

I guess she had a point, although I suspected that people would care more about the difference in ages than skin color, but I wasn't going to have her walking to my house, or riding her bike, so we arranged for me to pick her up around the corner from the store. It made me feel dirty doing that, and it was the only thing I regret about those days. I didn't care if it cost me clients. I was crazy about Kenya.

***

We continued our relationship right up until Kenya went off to school, screwing like teenagers, which was easy for one of us, but I was rejuvenated and was up to the task. She said we would get together when she came home from school for holidays and some occasional weekends, and she was true to her word.

Those meetings were much like the first one had been. Feral lovemaking followed by tenderness, and while I often questioned why she kept coming back to me, she was unwavering.

"Cause I like you," Kenya said after I asked that. "You funny and kinky and great in the sack. Why would I look around here for something else when I got it good? Back at school, that's different. I got friends there too. You know that, right Art?"

"Of course. I expect nothing else," I agreed. "I hope the guys at Cornell know how lucky they are."

"Guys? Yes, guys too," Kenya said, and when she saw the shocked look on my face she laughed. "Didn't know I went both ways? Thought you guys liked that stuff? Got a lady friend who's the exact opposite of me. Redhead with big breasts and hardly no hair anywhere. You wouldn't need no scorecard to see who was who if you watched us, and I'll bet you would like to, you kinky boy!"

"Sure would," I said, and as if she was reading my mind Kenya spoke up.

"Don't ask!" Kenya said.

"I wasn't going to ask to watch," I protested.

"Not that. It's something else you was thinking. I know damn well what you was thinking, that's what," Kenya said.

I didn't protest, but how she knew what I was thinking amazed me. There's not an incestuous bone in my body, but when Kenya admitted to enjoying women as well as men, my mind went back to those many sleepovers she shared with Emily.

To my surprise, I found myself wishing that they had been together that way, because Kenya was a warm and passionate lover, and the experience could only have done my daughter good, but I'll never know.

Something else I learned was that our relationship wasn't a secret. Someone else knew. Her father. That came out after a couple of years when I asked Kenya whether her folks thought it strange that she was rarely home.

"Daddy knows," Kenya said calmly. "Don't think Mama does, but Daddy does. Guess somebody saw me getting into your car or something and told him."

"What did he say?" I asked, having known her father for a long time back when we bowled in the same league, but the fact that this prison guard knew was chilling.

"He just asked me if I was friendly with Art Taylor and I said yes."

"That was it?"

"Yeah. He only cared about how old I was when it started. I told him and he said fine, that I could do worse, and that was it."

"Gee," I said, wondering if the situations were reversed and Emily was seeing him behind my back, whether I could be that way.

"All Daddy cares about is that I keep my grades up, don't get arrested or pregnant," Kenya said. "He trusts my judgement for the rest."

Kenya stayed out of trouble and did just fine at Cornell, earning a degree in Veterinary Medicine. I attended her graduation ceremony, and even managed not to run when Kenya brought me over to meet her mother and say hi to her father. Kenya's father was much cooler about it than I was. I was a stammering mess.

I kept in contact with Kenya throughout it all, offfering encouragement and advice when asked. Kenya became a veterinarian, although that brought her far away from her hometown and me, and a couple of years after that I went out to Buffalo to see the little office she had just opened up. It was a simple one person operation but Kenya had plans and dreams and I had no doubt she would succeed.

"That's it," Kenya said at the end of my tour of the office and exam room, and then brought me to the back, where a little apartment was set up. Nothing fancy, just a bed and a TV and a refrigerator, for when a snowstorm would hit and make traveling impossible.

"Get this stuff off," Kenya said as she started to undress me.

"Huh?"

"You didn't drive all that way just to see this office," Kenya snapped as she began tearing off her own clothes. "Least you better not have."

"I did actually," I said as I looked at the now 25 year old version of Kenya, which was a little fuller and more rounded, but no less furry and still fantastic looking.

"Well, let me fuck that silliness out of you before I let you take me to dinner," were Kenya's last words before pulling me down onto the little bed so we could destroy it.

***

thanks for reading

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AnonymousAnonymous3 months ago

I gave this one a 5 rating like I always do for hairy pussy stories. I passionately hate the ugly Brite Orange Glowing Razor Burn, Chaffed Over Mounds, and cunt lips you can't get to because of pimples and boils (NEEDING MASHED) with stubble and ingrown hairs re-growing in them from the TOTAL AND COMPLETE FOOLISHNESS of shaving a HAIRY pussy to begin with. SORRY LADIES, I DONT DO THAT, OR YOU!!!!!

AnonymousAnonymousabout 6 years ago
Nice one

I have always loved my women to be natural

AnonymousAnonymousover 7 years ago
Nice one

I love my women unshaven

AnonymousAnonymousover 8 years ago
Damn

That man is one lucky guy. I would give anything to be in his shoes

MadabouthairMadabouthairalmost 9 years agoAuthor
To the anon re: censorship and growing up

On the chance that you may revisit your comment let me offer an explanation as to why there was no use of the racial epitaph you mentioned. I don't use any derogatory terms about any race, group or religion in my tales and try hard not to be disrespectful to women either unless there's a point to be made in the story.

That's my choice. It's not censorship. Your claim that I should "grow up" and use terms I am uncomfortable using is absurd. How throwing around "n" bombs indicates maturity eludes me and using that word would not have improved the tale. I don't use the "b" word either. You of course are free to write stories here as well and what words you use in them are up to you. For me to object to that would actually be censorship.

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