Hail Her Hair!

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On the station alone with hirsute mum.
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oediplex
oediplex
2,896 Followers

On the station alone with hirsute mum

There once was an Australian lad, Jeffery, who was at least 18. He asked, "Mum, why do Gramps and uncle Neville say dad gets lost in the bush and then snicker? Pops knows the outback as well as any man and he has GPS on his phone. How can he get lost?

His mum, said, "Oh they mean something else, don't you worry about it. You'll find out about such things when you're older."

The youth replied, "I'm in the top rank of scouts and next year I'm joining the Royal Navy. I'm certainly mature enough to know any family secrets. Older came and went and here I am. Why, if I get to do radio work in the RN they'll give me a security clearance

His mother laughed and responded, "Alright kid, follow me - quick step." They marched up to his parent's bedroom. Arriving she moved a chair to face the bed and pointed to it. Jeff sat as ordered, an obedient youth - usually. His mum excused herself to enter the large walk-in closet. She reappeared shortly in her evening gown.

She sat opposite him. "What first you don't know is that I come from an aboriginal tribe . ." She was interrupted.

"Of course I know that." She waived him silent.

"Yes, sure you do. But what you don't know is that my people have a genetic defect."

"You're not going to die early; I couldn't take that my dearest mummy!"

"No no, not to worry. Certainly you must be aware that my body is hirsute."

"Your body is beautiful mum."

"I'm pleased my mid-aged physique can command a compliment from so handsome a man. But I mean hairy. You can't have missed my hairy arms and legs when I wear my bathing suit. My hairy arm pits."

"Don't shave your arm pits I love them!"

"Never fear, I am a pure maiden of the Ewroorung tribe. We are proud of our pelts, gift of the First Mother; we do not clip our coat. We keep fit as the Sky Father taught us to be tough. We maybe shaggy but never baggy! You are half Ewroorung so you naturally have an affinity for the unshorn." With this she shrugged off the top of her robe and declared, "BEHOLD! the 'Venus de Downy' or so your dad calls me." She lifted her arms to form a showgirl V above her head.

Jeffery sat there bedazed. Two thoughts were all his brain could hold just now with the top half of his mum starkers in front of his eyes. The sash kept the lower portion of her gown closed, though the lengthy limbs of her legs were exposed. Clearly she wore just the single garment or maybe panties too? But that wasn't on his mind. Jeff focused on the generous breasts which pendulous hung on her chest. Meanwhile in a sub-basement of the youth's skull her he realized that, yes, his mum's hair was very soft and downy indeed.

His mum spoke breaking the hypnotic hold her tits and arm pits had on him. "Darling, come feel these best of boobies." She lifted the mellons to him Who was he to object to such an invitation to touch the tender tah-tahs, a boon not to be turned down He scooched the chair closer and reached out grasping the jugs, feeling the gravity of their weight, noticing the softness of her skin, observing the small fibers even around her nipples.

"Taste them" his mum urged. Jeff eagerly took the long ruddy-colored points that poked out at least a full centimeter. "Mmm oh yesss." The naughty matron moaned. Then she gently eased him back in his chair.

Jeff asked, "Mum do you mind being so hirsu . . . uh hairy?"

"No," She gave a soft laugh, "I've always been like this, my folks were so, my people all were likewise. I feel natural and I am comfortable in my Ewroorung pelt.

"Sooo," inquired her son, what does this all have to do with dad in the bush?"

"Well bush can mean several things: the outback, a shrub, or a rude vernacular for this!" The swarthy woman took only a second to undo her gown's belt and present the in-her-prime limbs. She spread her thighs to a thirty degree angle. At the apex was a broad delta of what might have been mistaken for black lamb's wool save its place of pride at the juncture of legs and torso. Now the phrase 'lost in the bush' would forever be associated with his mum's pussy and his dad's carpet munching.

"Your gramps and uncle are just jealous of your pop Charlie having bagged an aboriginal woman from my tribe. We usually in-breed, and yes that means sometimes a bit of incest. It's what keeps us hirsute and happy.

"Jeffery . . .," His mum's voice took on the sing-song tone she reserved for when hhe was little and she was offering a candy or new toy. "would you like to get lost in your old mum's bush?"

She didn't have to ask twice. Jeff moved so his knees were on carpet. He nosed into her split and saw her clit was as extended as her nipples. He suckled on that immediately. Then with the curly fur softly caressing his cheek, like having two plush toys rubbed on each side of his face, he commenced lick the juicy cunt that his cock craved. As he manipulated her genitals: swirling, dipping deep, drubbing and thrumming the succulent pink flesh; his mum moaned loudly, cried out 'yeses' and 'there!' and finally came a great screech as she went over the top to a shuddering orgasm.

After several minutes while she recovered her equilibrium she spoke in a whisper to him. "Jeffy?" using his childhood moniker, she reached down and cupped his balls with her hand, "You have a lovely bunch of coconuts," She tickled his wirey nuts and giggled, then she ran her hand combing his tangle of crinkly pubic hair. "You need to take better care of your Ewroorung hair-itage. Be sure to use conditioner, coconut milk scented ones are favored by our tribe's girls. Brush it out after your daily shower.

"Mum," he mumbled while now devoting his mouth to twin peaks of joy, "do you think I ca catch a pure maiden of our tribe?"

"Oh she will catch you. Now that you are almost an oo'num, our word for a fully mature male of marriageable age, you will be able to join the mating circles dancing.

"Almost? But mum I told you I am a man!"

Mmm . . . are you a virgin?

Well if we were closer to town I might have a better chan -"

"Meaning you've never been laid."

"Fair dinkum" he admitted to his lack of sexual experience.

"Well, use a torch if you go spelunking if you've got the spunk."

"Ay?" he was confused by the non sequitur.

"Oh for God's sake lad get on top and give me pussy a jolly drubbing!"

And that is how Jeffery became an oo'num fucking his mum.

He plunged his exploratory probe into the surprisingly tight channel of his mum. The carnal canal was amazingly slick and oh-god the heat that surrounded his member. He socked into the cunt until bone bumped bone. He felt a something touching his tip. Then nature took over and he began to stroke out and in and out and in and in again and again. The flesh slapped, their groans and grunts echoed, chest to breasts almost nipples on nipples, his mum reached down and grabbed his arse-cheeks, he hugged her dear for life as the essence of his soul spilled into her center, spuming with his prick spurting hard, the sperm shooting to the very place he was conceived.

His mum revealed in their coupling that her uncle had been honored to banish her maidenhead. Now the tribal traditions had been completed with Jeffy. Her son's man-meat, a hot staff of thick, long, veined pussy-pleaser had plunged into her vagina like a steam-pump. And steamy the sex was! She could feel the vapors rising, an offering to the Heavenly Father of the aboriginal legends. The tribe would flourish new blood and old in her offspring. She felt the wealth of cum, his and hers ooze out of her cooze, her holy hole. He would make a good husband for a tribal girl. Her boy was now an oo'num. They both drifted off to sleep.

Apologies to Aboriginals - I live in North Dakota, US

oediplex
oediplex
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  • COMMENTS
2 Comments
dirtyfishdirtyfishover 3 years ago

Being a hair addict it sure was a joy to read. Always got my eyes on the lookout for a nice pair of hairy pits or hairy legs. Write more.

philteephilteealmost 4 years ago
Cumming of Age?

I’m hoping that IF this a correct depiction of Australian aboriginals no one gets upset. If not, it might be best if you caveat you story as a flight of fantasy. Are you an Australian aborigine living in North Dakota or an American making a fictional statement. Try using Sioux or Cheyenne as your ethnic stock and see what happens.

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