Hair To Stay Erotica

Amanda sped home, navigating the treacherous “Spaghetti Bowl” freeway snarl with some deft maneuvering, glorying in her knowledge of avoiding the worst of rush hour. As her modern machine hummed beneath her, she felt a rush of pleasure at it’s tactile responses and humming potential power. She understood at times like this why race car drivers loved their sport. Nearing her branch turnoff, she careened powerfully down the ramp and onto her home stretch.

An attractive woman, Amanda prided herself on various things, among which was a sense of organization. She managed a sedentary job well, going to workouts on her lunch hour, then returning, refreshed and showered to her computer and the massive spreadsheets she consulted as a risk analyst for a large international construction firm. The job was interesting enough and she got to travel to far flung places to oversee project changes. Life was good.

She pulled onto her street and noticed Doris’s car out front. Her heart beat a bit faster as she had a vision of their evening out last night. It was the most incredibe night she had ever had. Simply breathtakingly different as well. She pulled the emergency brake and got out, toting her huge purse and the wine she had gotten at the liquor store near work.

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Another day at the Intergalactic Slave Quarters finally completed, I take my jumbled nerves and seriously atrophied body down to Jake’s Pub for some serious libations. Life in the cubicle forest has become something more than a chore. It is eating my soul like a pirrhana on methadrine, I swear. How I long for those days when I was a campus stud, the athlete with attitude raising fans to their feet as I plunked another couple of points for good old Cornell University. I do regret leaving those days behind some days. It’s as if I paid in innocence for leaving college and fulfilling the historical chain of events. The contrast is depressing now.

Upon entering Jake’s, I hear the comfortable roar of the denizens there accomplishing the downing of microbrews amid their raised voices and hearty laughs. The comfort of it all is refreshing, warm and somehow also erotic. Jake’s has been the scene of more than a few original meetings which led to some amazingly steamy relationships with what I now consider to be a roaring inchoate jungle of hungry female libido’s. By this time, accomplished Casanova that I like to believe I have become, that jungle has become easy to pluck. Without arrogance, I can honestly say that I feel I could seduce just about any of the gals in here, and have them in mortal sexy embrace within 30 minutes. I have been applying the term “sluts” to almost all females for months now in my heart. So far, it has fit perfectly.

“Well,” I laugh to myself, wryly “at least I have that going for me.” Today frankly, a Friday, my senses feel particularly tingly. My neurosis seems a fiat accompli and I could use some serious relief. I wave at a table of good friends, order my Ichtysaurus Pale Ale and move to join them.

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Cliff sat at his desk in their bedroom and watched his wife prepare for her bath. He felt a rise in his pants and set aside the spreadsheet he had from work to watch. He had encountered a new dimension in Stephanie just this week and he still pondered it. While searching his browser history for something he had thought he’d lost long ago, he ran across visitations to a gangbang site. He looked further and found she had been perusing gangbang sites for months now. Most surprising were the images and videos she had visited. Almost all were nearly abusive. He’d had a day or two to think about it. He even asked her one night if she ever had fantasies about other men. She had flat denied it. He decided to put it to a test and arranged something for a night out. This was the night.

Steph stripped for him in front of her mirror. She removed her blouse, her hairy armpits shocking black against her pale white skin. Cliff had always adored her body hair, spending much time nuzzling her pits and toying with the tiny hairs protruding around her nipples. He sucked those little hairs often, driving her a bit crazy. He stated emphatically he wanted her as “natural” as possible and, judging by the amount of time he spent in her hairy nether regions, especially in her thick black bush between her legs, she knew that much was true. She slipped off her skirt and her panties and stood, naked, in front of the mirror, feeling turned on herself looking at her thick fleecy tush and the glistening it did in the light from her own unbidden but dam near ever-present juices. She had no explanation why, but she had been incredibly horny these past months, much more so than ever.

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Jenny Mac Ruth had an extra hop to her step as she stepped into the elevator for the ride up to her daughter’s apartment on the tenth floor. It had been almost six months since she had seen Martha at her college graduation, and it would be good to just sit and talk with her daughter about her new job, boyfriends, and all the other things mothers and daughters gab about. “Here it is apartment 1181, I hope she’s there. ” very excitedly, Jenny Mac Ruth was about to knock on the door when she noticed that the door was already ajar slightly. Nervously she opened the door and stuck her head inside to see if Martha was at home, and when she saw or heard no one, she enter the front room and called out, “Is anyone here, Martha, it’s your mother, are you at home!?!”

When Jenny Mac Ruth got no response at all from inside, she relaxed a little and after setting her Bag over in the corner, she decided to look over the rooms. After checking out the Dinning room and kitchen she went to a long hall to the rear of the apartment to where the bathroom and bedrooms were located. She was just about to step into the bathroom when she stopped up, there was someone in the bedroom. With pounding heart due to excitement, Jenny Mac Ruth crept over to the door, and after taking a moment to collect her, she flung it open and yelled, “Surprise, it’s me…your mother. ” For a second or two no one uttered a word, as there were three very stunned people staring at each other, that is until the naked black man lying next to a completely naked Martha spat, “Who the fuck are you, and how the hell did you get in here in this home!?!” Martha was too shocked to speak, but finally her mother Jenny Ruth stammered, “W-what’s going on in here, and who’s this, Martha!?!”

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The cool air slammed past their bodies as he threw her down on the bed, the soft white bed covers in total contrast to her smooth olive skin. He leaned over her, kissing the nape of her neck, sending shivers down his spine. Her arms were draped over her head, her hairy armpits exposed to him. He dipped his head into her underarms to savour her sweet feminine scent lingering on her fine pubic hair.

She shivered in anticipation as his soft lips worked their way down her body. Her breasts tingled as his tongue ran circles around her nipples; they were erect and hard as the breeze from the open window slapped against them. His hot, moist mouth worked its way down her sleek body to her hairy pussy.

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The coffee stung at his dry lips as he watched her bus the tables close by. She was wearing a short black skirt that rode up past her stockings as she bent over to pick up the napkins that had fallen on the floor. Her tight white shirt boosted her ample beasts and her cleavage was higher than where the buttons had stopped.

The bulge in his pants grew larger as did his desire for the young blonde. She looked up at him with piercing blue eyes. Her smile was sexy and erotic, like she was asking for it right here and now. He couldn’t wait much longer so jotted down a note on a napkin and slipped it to her as he went to walk out the door. She stood watching him go and read the note.

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