Why Ask Your Rabbi?

In my freshman year at college, I found myself sitting beside a chubby young women in Psychology. She had large breasts, but the thing that intrigued me the most was the hair on her forearms.

********

She had furry arms...

Beth Kaplan wasn't very friendly at first, but I was persistent, and soon I was rewarded with a date. As I sat next to the plump young woman, I let my arm lie against hers on the arm-rest of the theatre, and the tingle of her hair against my arm made me hard.

I had already done the mental projection after closely observing Beth at class for the first month or so and had noted the following.

She had a nice growth of hair on her forearms for a woman; not an extreme amount, but a good coating of dark brown fur that went from her elbows to her wrists. Beth also had a bit of down that resembled a faint side-burn of sorts as it went down the side of her face around her ear. She also had bushy eyebrows and a very rich and full head of curly hair.

My conclusion was that if I managed to get young Ms. Kaplan's clothes off, I was likely to find a very hairy woman under the garments. I foresaw a dense triangle of hair between her legs and hopefully a couple of rich jungles of fur under her pleasingly plump arms.

That was my ideal, and while I had been spoiled by hitting the jackpot on my first three attempts with Carol, Becky and Sienna, I was confident that I could keep my streak alive.

I hoped to find out about the young woman's underarms that first night, and did so, in the back seat of my car. While groping around under Beth's sweater, paying respect to her big breasts by kneading them from the outside of her armor-like brassiere, my hand 'accidentally' slipped up and over her torpedo before landing under her arm.

Sadly, for the brief seconds that my fingers were allowed to slide around her warm, moist armpit before she forced my hand out, I learned that instead of finding the thick tuft of hair under her arm that I had hoped for, what my fingers stroked was a coarse pocket of stubble.

I was not perturbed, because while my preference in women's armpits had been of the unshaven and natural variety, I found the presence of stubble and even 5 o'clock shadow intriguing as well.

As a sidebar to the story... Since even back in the 60's and 70's most women did shave their underarms, it was far more common to see girls armpits shaved than not, so I had begun to note the wide variety in the denseness and growth pattern of armpit hair.

I even got to make categories in my mind of the various patterns of hair growth, from the extremes of the women whose stubble filled the entire armpit to the ladies who had only a faint and narrow strip in the center of their underarms. Then there were the women who were in-between, with stubble that formed round, oval and diamond patterns.

Some of this was based on ethnicity, since I found that generally women with Mediterranean backgrounds had more hair under their arms than most women. The hair grew in a greater area and more densely as well, and in addition seemed to grow faster. Asian and Native American women seemed to be at the other end of the hair spectrum in my observations.

However, my studies were not scientific in any way, and although I was an avid observer, I didn't get to enjoy as many sightings as I would have liked. Therefore, as the saying goes, your experience may vary.

To those not so inclined to pay attention to such details, this intense scrutiny may seem strange, and maybe it is. Just like people who study anything intensely, be it the Civil War, model trains or stamps, the minutia only seems weird if your aren't into it. I am into armpits, and don't apologize for it. Saying and admitting that has made me more open to understanding other people's "fetishes".

Back to Beth's armpits... the presence of the stubble under her arm did not deter me. Quite the contrary, because while my fingers had only grazed under her arm for a brief period of time, what I did feel seemed to be quite abundant.

Seeing was believing, then as now, so on our next date I was determined to find out more. I did, but as strange as it may seem, it was a lot tougher to get at her underarms than it was her breasts, which she not only gave me access to but did everything possible to make it easy for me to lavish affection on them.

That was fine with me, since Beth had quite an pair on her. They were huge, and their size completely dominated Beth's upper torso, becoming even more impressive when she released them from their harness, a sturdy looking garment that was built for the heavy-duty work required of a 42DD bra that was completely packed with tit-flesh.

Beth clearly enjoyed having her breasts fondled and fussed over, and I enjoyed doing it as we made out on the couch, but as I sucked on the thick pegs of her nipples and licked the large pebbled aureola around them, I kept my eyes on the fold of her arm.

The moment that she lifted her fleshy arm, my own arm went to work, pushing up her limb with my forearm until I had moved her arm up to the back of the couch. And there it was, her plump underarm fully exposed, the pale whiteness coated by a sea of dark stubble that completely covered her armpit.

My mouth moved right away, and the second that my tongue made contact with the coarse damp bristle, Beth recoiled, squirming as she tried to lower her arm to avoid my oral assault.

"Tony," Beth whined as she struggled to lower her limb. "That's my armpit you're licking."

"I know," I told her. "What's wrong with that?"

"Ew!" Beth whined, and brought my face down to her breasts again.

This war of wills continued as we made out, and when I managed to work my way under her arm again Beth let me kiss the moist cove for a minute before squirming away.

"Maybe if I wasn't so hairy, it wouldn't be so bad," Beth suggested. "Besides, I haven't shaved since yesterday."

As I ran my thumb over the sharp bristle I tried to picture what Beth would look like in a few weeks, if this was the result of 24 hours neglect.

"I think it would be incredibly sexy if you didn't shave your armpits at all," I offered.

"Do you have any idea what I would look like?" Beth asked, and when I told her that I had a pretty good idea and was enjoying thinking about it, she continued. "I had a rash one time and couldn't shave for a week and omigod!"

"Wish I had been with you then, because I would have done something like this," I explained, leaning over and running my tongue over the length of her underarm, drawing a shiver from Beth but thankfully no sound effects of disgust along with it.

"I probably smell," Beth said when I suggested that it seemed that she liked what I had just done.

"No, you don't," I assured her, and while I had gotten rid of the deodorant with my licking and rubbing, her natural aroma was rather nice. "You smell and taste great, as a matter-of-fact."

That was as far as I got with Beth that night, getting rebuffed at my attempts to get into Beth's pants, as well as being unable for her to get into mine, but she agreed to see me the next night.

I found myself with Beth on my couch again, and this time to my surprise Beth was quite amiable to what I wanted to do, even raising her arm for me after taking her bra off. What I saw that night was not the stubble coated armpit of the previous evening, but a shaved one, freshly mowed by Beth just before I had picked her up.

It wasn't smooth, because even though Beth had just shaved a couple of hours earlier there was a noticeable five o'clock shadow already, and when my tongue slid around I could feel the sandpaper-like surface.

Different, but quite interesting as well, and if it wasn't for the abundance of deodorant Beth had applied for the occasion it would have been better.

"I wanted to make it nice for you," Beth said, seeming to be a bit hurt when I mentioned her having shaved.

"I was fine with you just like you were," I told her, adding that I also thought she was sexy this way too.

"Because I kinda liked what you did last night," Beth confessed, throwing back her curly brown hair with a turn of her head. "I thought that if I wasn't self-conscious about being so hairy that I would have liked it even more."

I found myself getting into Beth's almost smooth underarms a lot, and as I kept massaging her breasts while nibbling her armpits, her breathing kept getting louder and more rapid. Just when I was about to make my move, Beth spoke.

"What me to - you know? Play with you too?"

I probably sounded like a elated puppy at that, because my cock was so jammed up in my pants that it wasn't funny. Much to my surprise, Beth's hands did not go to my jeans, but instead took the bottom of my shirt and lifted it up over my head.

I was stunned when Beth had me lift my arm. This was the last thing I had expected to happen, but there Beth was, giggling as she toyed with the thin wisp of hair under my arm.

"Wish my underarms were like yours. You hardly have any hair at all" Beth opined, gently pulling on the sparse growth. "If I do this wrong, tell me."

With that, I sat there stunned as Beth leaned forward and began to kiss my armpit. It tickled at first, but I stifled my giggle and looked at Beth in wide-eyed wonder as she began to lick my armpit, mimicking what I had been doing to her.

"This okay?" Beth asked, and I nodded, because not only was it okay, it was driving me crazy.

I leaned over across Beth's body and buried my face in her armpit, in part to stifle the noise that I was about to make, because I was cumming. The tight fit of the underwear against my cock as I had squirmed, as well as Beth's eager licking, had done me in, so I licked away while masking the sounds of me cumming.

*********

That was a new experience...

Getting my own armpits licked, and after Beth did that I realized why the women I had done it to so far had enjoyed it so much. After you got past the initial sensation, which is sort of like a tickle, it becomes every sensual. Maybe in my case, where I have so little hair under my arms, the feeling is magnified, but whatever the reason I found it an intense experience.

After that night, I managed to convince Beth to stop shaving her armpits for me. This lasted for a week, until finally that next Sunday night after going out, I got Beth's top off and saw that instead of seeing her underarms coated with a sea of tiny hairs, they had reverted to the sand-papery look.

"What happened?" I asked, hurt that my little project had been derailed.

"It didn't seem right," Beth said. "Everything about our relationship seemed to be centered on this one thing."

"So?" I asked.

"I asked my Rabbi, and he..."

"You asked your Rabbi?" I asked.

"Yes, and he had me talk to his wife about it. She explained to me that I was being objectified and you were only using me to satisfy your desires," Beth declared. "She said that a couple should have a variety of interests. Besides, she said that she had never heard of a couple doing things to each other's armpits and thought that what you were doing to me was sick."

"What we were doing to each other," I reminded her.

"And that makes it even worse."

"That you liked it?"

"Yes, but that was wrong," Beth said. "She said that there's a slippery slope down the road to perversion."

"I think the slippery slope is more about her road to insanity," I said. "She sounds batty. What's the harm in what we were doing? We haven't even had sex yet," I reminded her, only using our hands on each other to date.

"It's all about my being Jewish, isn't it?" Beth decided, being fond of that as a reason for every disagreement from politics to music.

"I don't give a damn about religion," I said, and I didn't.

I just wanted to have fun. It wasn't like we were madly in love or anything. Just two people enjoying each other. So despite enjoying her enormous knockers, it wasn't worth getting into this kind of discussion.

And in the end she was right in her way. A real relationship has to consist of more than one thing in common. I had little interest in Beth outside of her armpits and our armpit play, so we ended our relationship that night.

********

thanks for reading