My life was running smoothly. I had graduated from college with a good enough degree in electronics engineering to get an interesting job that had prospects. I earned enough money to afford the rent on a small flat and to run a car. My social life was busy and I had a deepening relationship with my girlfriend of just over a year, Sarah. She was a civil servant working in a fairly uninteresting government department. We had met at college but not really got together until we left. We had moved in vaguely overlapping social circles but, if I am being honest, I always thought she was a bit too conservative, even verging on the frigid. We met again at a party hosted by a mutual friend and, with the assistance of copious quantities of wine, we ended up kissing passionately in the garden. I tried to go further but after drunkenly groping her tits I struggled to move my hand up her skirt and into her knickers. She was certainly not underdressed with tights and a large pair of French knickers. I was just about to move down from the top of her waistband when I encountered a thick mat of pubic hair. I allowed my fingers to play with it a bit before moving further in but Sarah made it clear that that was not going to happen however drunk she was. I acquiesced and withdrew my hand back through the forest but was grateful that she allowed a bit more groping. As I felt her crotch through her tights it was obvious that she was dripping wet.
I woke up alone and with a thunderous hangover but I could still smell her on my fingers. We had parted with a passionate kiss and exchanged telephone numbers. As I lay in bed waiting for the painkillers to take effect, I reflected on the evening. Sarah was unconventional but she had classic beauty. She had a good figure with a shapely bottom, thin waist and large breasts that were kept in gravity defying shape by an impressively engineered bra. Her blonde highlighted hair was swept back from her forehead in a bouffant wave that fell to her shoulders and then curled up and out. Sometimes it was held in place with an Alice band but more often with large quantities of hair spray. Her face was always immaculately made up with full foundation and a subtle dusting of powder. She was hardly ever seen out with bare legs preferring to wear tights and stockings. Her clothes were definitely not those of young fashion conscious girls but were the well made skirts and blouses favoured by their mothers . However, I was to explore further. In my imagination she had raw sexuality that was added to by that lush expanse of hair that I discovered on her ample mound. As my penis began to rouse, I resolved to take affirmative action. Ignoring the pain in my head and a slight wave of nausea, I got up and found her telephone number.
I showered and washed my shoulder length hair before dressing in jeans, a tee shirt and a jacket. It was what I liked to describe as my smart casual look although, apart from my work suits, it was pretty much all I had in my wardrobe. Sarah had seemed pleased to get my call and had even apologised for being so forward at the party. I did not feel the need to tell her that I wanted to be much more forward. We had arranged to meet during the week for a drink and I was strangely nervous as I donned my trainers and checked the overall effect in the mirror.
If Sarah thought I was under-dressed she did not say so. As ever, she was immaculately turned out and I assumed that she had come straight from work. She was wearing a tight knee length pencil skirt with a plain satin blouse that emphasised the shape of her breasts. The make up was subtly different with darker sultry eye shadow but her hair was stiffly held place with a recent spray of hair lacquer. We got on well, although it was obvious that we were completely different. She had been Head Girl of her school, captain of hockey, an accomplished horsewoman, regular churchgoer and breezed through her exams to get to university. I had spent my youth intensively training to become a couch potato, studiously avoiding physical exercise apart from the odd kickabout with mates and intensive sessions on PlayStation. Instead I had worked on my drinking, smoking and porn addiction, and only just scraped by academically to get into college. She laughed at my stories of childhood rebellion and misbehaviour. I loved that laugh. It was like the tinkling of a musical instrument and encouraged me to more outrageous confessions. She was particularly enthralled by my tales of trying to avoid the school hair rules. My school had strict rules about hair length and I was frequently caught trying to evade them by using hairpins and spray to curl my hair off my collar and behind my ears. Being caught meant an immediate written injunction to visit the barber. This was known as a haircut chit. Failure act on this injunction would result in a caning, followed by a forced march to the barbershop in town and a drastic haircut. Sarah looked horrified.
“Did you ever get caned?” she asked with atakent escort a concerned frown.
“Rather too many times,” I replied with a pained wince. “It didn’t do much good though,” I continued as I ran my hand through my lustrous locks.
She giggled again and then said with a frown “Yes, I had noticed.”
We left after a couple of drinks and I offered Sarah a lift home. It was not late but we both had work in the morning. However, I was pleased to be invited in for coffee and even more pleased to find that Sarah lived alone in a small flat that her parents had bought her. It was, as I could have guessed, very neat and tidy. There was a framed photo on a shelf of a middle-aged couple who must have been her parents. The woman was an older version of Sarah but with much shorter greying hair that had been permed on the top and shaved short at the sides. The man was tall with a distinct military bearing. Sarah returned from the kitchen with coffee and said quite unexpectedly, “Right, let’s drink this first and pick up where we left off in the garden. By the way, I never shag on a first date but you can see my bush and tits if you like.”
I was dumbstruck and floundered for a reply.
“Oh dear,” Sarah continued placing her hand to her mouth, “have I been too forward. I’m sorry. I take after mummy. She always says that women should speak their minds.”
I recovered my composure and said, “No not at all. Your Mother is absolutely right. I was just thinking that perhaps we could skip the coffee.”
We kissed and I placed my hand on her breasts. Even through the blouse and the heavy bra material I could feel her nipples swelling. We fell onto the sofa and I pushed my other hand up her skirt. This time she was wearing stockings and a suspender belt. I ran my fingers over her loose cotton pants and felt the familiar wetness. Sarah moaned and pushed her hips upwards to meet my hand. My fingers sought the outer edge of the pants which was below the top of her thigh. Again, I encountered a forest of pubic hair. I pushed my hand in and up across the furry wetness. Sarah writhed and moaned again as I gently prised her thick labial lips apart. She broke off and said that we should undress. My penis was rock hard and twitched as she ran a well-manicured nail over the tip.
I removed her pants and skirt and buried my face in her hairy mound. It was heavenly. I savoured the rich aroma and pushed my tongue into the wet slit as I began to explore. I had only just reached the top and was beginning to circle her clitoris when she tensed and began to tremble with a low throaty groan. Her lips parted and allowed a trickle of slightly sticky liquid to flow out. Much to my embarrassment, I lost control and spurted a spray of spunk onto the sofa. She did not notice. Her orgasm seemed to last for several minutes but eventually she went still and I raised my wet face and moved up to kiss her. We broke off quickly so that I could remove a four inch long pubic hair from my mouth.
“Oh dear,” she giggled, “it looks like I need a trip to the barbers. I don’t want to get caned.”
“No! You mustn’t” I exclaimed. “I love your hairy bush.”
Sarah was true to her word and we did not shag that night. She did suck my still hard cock clean and I helped her clean up the messy puddle of spunk on the sofa. Eventually, I gave her a long kiss, dressed and left. As I turned back to say a final goodbye, I noted that she still looked perfectly groomed with not a hair out of place either on her head or on her cunt.
I struggled to focus at work for the next few days. I had arranged to meet Sarah again on Saturday. She said I could meet her after she had finished at the hairdressers in the afternoon and we could then go to see a film followed by dinner.
Having spent Saturday morning doing chores and shopping, In the afternoon got ready to go out and meet Sarah. I noticed that my hair was now well over my collar and ears. I had considered getting it trimmed whilst in town but I rejected the idea and proceeded to brush and blow dry my lustrous mane. I had allowed a bit of stubble to grow on my face and, with jeans and a tee shirt, I thought I looked pretty cool. On second thoughts, maybe I should have shaved and bought some new clothes. Never mind, it was too late now. Sarah came out of the hair salon at six thirty. She looked as stunning as ever in her slightly old-fashioned way. I went to kiss her on the lips but she turned her cheek and I could see that she had just had her make-up done. She raised a newly manicured hand to remove her headscarf and said, “What do you think.”
“Looks great,” I said. In fact it looked much the same except it was slightly more bouffant and perhaps a fraction of an inch shorter. It was obviously heavily doused in hair spray.
“Good. I am having lunch with my parents tomorrow and Mummy is very fussy about appearances.”
I said nothing ataköy escort but I noted that she was looking me up and down as she spoke. We walked arm in arm to the cinema and I apologised again for making a mess on her sofa. She said it had washed out and that it was a small price to pay for a nice evening. In the cinema she discreetly laid a hand on my erect cock and rubbed gently. I was close to coming and did not pay much attention to the film. Dinner was sexually charged with the conversation always turning to sex. Sarah questioned me further on my school misdemeanours and was particularly keen to hear more about the hair rules, the punishments and the subsequent shearings.
We went back to her place again and embraced passionately as we entered the door. In no time at all we were both naked and I was on my knees savouring her hairy bush. She pushed me onto my back onto the bed and crawled up my body until she could lower her wet hairy muff onto my face. I let my tongue roam through the slippery undergrowth and then settle on her engorged clit. She rocked gently as I probed insistently eventually coaxing a low rasping moan as she tensed and shuddered into a tumultuous climax. More juice oozed from her filling my mouth and dribbling down my chin as the hairy mound ground into my face. Sarah turned through 180 degrees and grabbed my cock into her mouth. Still grinding her cunt and arse into my face she sucked my cock with a loud slurping. I was just on the point of coming when she climbed off and knelt in the bed with her arse in the air. “Fuck me!”, she commanded with an air of authority that I had not heard before. I knelt behind her and fed my cock into her waiting cunt. After a few hard thrusts that caused her to shout “Yes, yes yes,” in a guttural growl, she shouted, “come up my arse!”
I was slightly shocked. I had never had my cock up any girls arse let alone been commanded to do it by a posh girl. However, I duly obliged and after a couple of strokes I found myself howling as my cock exploded up her back passage.
After what seemed like an eternity, I leaned forwards to embrace her. She was still on her knees, face down on the bed. “God that was fantastic,” I said as I reached for her head.
“Don’t touch my hair!” she replied. “You’ll mess it up.”
I was a bit taken back but I laid next to her on my back and she arranged herself on top of me. “Yes, that was intense,” she purred. “Sorry to snap about the hair but I am seeing Mummy tomorrow and she is very fussy.” With that she removed another pubic hair from her mouth kissed me deeply.
I slept soundly and woke to find Sarah heading to the bathroom. At some time during the night she must have taken off her make up and put a hairnet and a scarf on her head. I had never seen her without make-up but, even in the scarf, she looked stunning, somehow softer and more natural. She returned from the bathroom after an hour with her face fully made up and not a hair out of place. I could still smell her cunt on my face from the night before and now it mingled with her perfume as she dressed. She went for the full lingerie look with a corset, stockings and suspenders and a pair of black silk French knickers. I felt my cock swelling as I watched and eventually got out of the bed to go for a pee. On the way back I attempted a clinch but she skilfully evaded me and said, “Not now! I am getting ready to see Mummy. You can make yourself breakfast and let yourself out.”
“I would like to meet your parents,” I said. “Maybe I could tag along.”
A look of sheer horror crossed her face and she said sharply, “I don’t think my parents would like to meet you. Mummy is very fussy. In any case there is not enough time. You would need to have a shower and get some clean clothes. And have a shave!”
I did not press the subject. She had effectively informed me that I was a bit of rough. Ok for a shag but not good enough to be presented to her family. I retreated to the shower and was pleased to see that she had gone when I returned.
I felt like I had been dumped. I moped around for the rest of the day, playing computer games while watching rubbish on the television and drinking beer. I could not help replaying the night before in my mind and thinking what might have been. I had not known her wrong but she had been elevated in my mind to the status of perfect sexual goddess. I went to bed and had a wank and got up in the morning feeling just as gloomy. Midway through the afternoon, I got a text. It said “Thanks for the great weekend. Drink tonight? Sarah”
I replied, “Are you sure Mummy would approve?”
There was an immediate reply, “Of course she wouldn’t but what she doesn’t know about won’t hurt her. Meet me at the bar next to the cinema. And make sure you shave first. My thighs look like they have been sandblasted.”
I was shocked. She still wanted to see me and presumably wanted more sex. I rubbed atalar escort my stubble and resolved to shave as soon as I got home. I was not proud. Her mother may think I’m not good enough for her but why turn down great sex?
She looked stunning as she entered the bar. As well groomed as always but with a radiant smile that lit up the room when she saw me. She kissed me full on the lips and ran her hands over my smooth face. I had gone to town with the razor, removing not only my beard and moustache but also my sideburns too.
“I can’t wait to sit on your face,” she whispered.
“How would your Mother feel about that?” I replied spitefully. I immediately regretted it. The sunshine left her eyes as she cast around on the floor for a reply.
“Look, I’m sorry that I had to kick you out and that I couldn’t invite you to my parents. It’s just that Mummy is very…,” she searched for the word.
“Fussy?” I added. “I know. You told me. She wouldn’t want her little princess going out with an peasant like me.”
She began to cry and I felt even worse. I said, “look I’m sorry. Let’s just forget it. It’s you I want not your Mother.”
We hugged and I ran my fingers into her hair. She briefly recoiled and then buried her face into my shoulder. I realised that this was the first time that I had properly touched her hair. It felt strangely hard and sticky. When she lifted her face she smiled through her tear streaked make-up and said, “Thank you.”
We went back to her flat and fucked all night. It was as if a dam had burst and, after that night we were together most of the time. Our relationship grew and we both indulged our deepest fantasies. She even asked me to come on her face and hair in the knowledge that she would have to wash her hair and take her make-up off. I told her that she should wear less make-up and let her hair flow loose. In return, she used to insist that I shave my beard before she sat a on my face and we both use to joke about needing to be punished for having long hair. Always however there was the virtual presence of her Mother. Every couple of weeks she would get fully coiffed and preened before visiting her parents for lunch.
After about a year, we talked about moving in together. We both knew that this meant that I would have to meet her parents. So when she returned from visiting them one Sunday, she announced that I had been summonsed to join them in church followed by lunch the following week.
“That’s great,” I said. “What should I wear?”
“Well Mummy is very formal so could you wear a suit and tie?”
“Sure. And I’ll even wear a shirt and clean my shoes and put socks on.” I replied jokingly. Sarah laughed but I could see she was nervous. She looked at my hair but said nothing.
The following week passed quickly and Sarah spent all day Saturday at the hairdressers. I was not allowed to stay on Saturday in case I spoiled the look. When I called on Sunday morning she looked tense but immaculate in a very conservative business suit and a pearl necklace. She looked at me approvingly and noticed that my hair seemed shorter. I explained that the old school tricks still worked. You could not even see the hair clips and lacquer.
Sarah’s Mother was indeed a formidable woman. She was strikingly attractive like her daughter but much sterner, in the way that a retired headmistress would be. She insisted on referring to me by my full name, Benjamin, rather than Ben, which was what everyone else called me. We managed to get through the church service without much trouble but not before she had cast a critical eye over Sarah and commented that her skirt was a touch too short and that her hair could do with a good trim. I engaged Sarah’s Father in polite conversation and got on well with him. He was particularly interested in some of the military applications that I was working on. He had been in the army himself but ended up working in local government.
Lunch commenced with an outright interrogation by Sarah’s Mother which I managed to negotiate fairly well much to Sarah’s relief. As time moved on, she seemed to relax more. When her Mother had finished with me she turned her attention to her husband.
“Look at your Father dear. Doesn’t he look a disgrace?”
Sarah looked puzzled.
“He hasn’t had his haircut for weeks, have you Albert? Never mind I am going to the hairdresser next Saturday and I will make him go to the barbers then.”
“Well Daddy doesn’t look too bad Mummy. I think he looks very distinguished.” Sarah tried to defend her Father.
“Nonsense girl, he looks like a tramp. And you my girl could do with a good cut yourself. You are looking like a hussy. Isn’t that right Benjamin?”
I said nothing but she continued, “Come over next Saturday and I will get Mavis to sort you out.”
Sarah just sighed and said, “Yes Mummy. If you say so.”
The rest of the lunch passed uneventfully and with relief, we said goodbye. I shook hands with Sarah’s Father and gave the obligatory peck on her Mother’s cheek when it was offered. She looked slightly annoyed when I withdrew but Sarah was already in position to kiss her Mother goodbye. I noticed that her Mother was whispering something in her ear as I headed towards the car.
We drove directly to a bar for a debriefing.