दादी ( बौड़ी) का नितम्ब चोदन

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Hairy indian rani kaur

I met Rani Kaur at a disco in Gurgaon’s meat-packing district. It was a hot sultry August night, a Friday night. I paid the cover, got the back of my hand stamped--silly ritual--and circled around the dance floor to the bar. Strobe lights flashed on the dancers. You saw them kaleidoscopically, in colored fragments. Rani Kaur was sitting at the bar nursing a vodka tonic. I was drawn to her at once. Even before I ever laid eyes on her I felt her presence. Hairy women seem to give off certain electricity that makes me alert.

Rani Kaur had shoulder-length, straight brown hair, worn loose. Her eyebrows were bushy, wild, and connected in the middle with a thick dark fringe of hair. She had a very feminine-looking mustache, a woman's mustache: her upper lip was entirely fringed with dark straight hairs. The dark down that lined her jaw from her ears almost to her chin was long enough to tug. She sipped her drink. A droplet clung enticingly to one of her mustache hairs. Her tongue flicked up and licked it off with the darting quickness of a snake.

I introduced myself. Rani Kaur reciprocated. "What are you drinking?" I asked. I ordered another vodka tonic for her and a glass of the house white for me. Normally a vodka rock is my drink. But I thought I might get lucky with Rani Kaur. I didn't want to get too drunk to take advantage of whatever opportunities presented them.

She was wearing a short-sleeved black knit top, a black pleated skirt, black pantyhose, and black half-heeled pumps. That her arms were exceptionally hairy was impossible for anyone to ignore. Dark tufts sprouted from her knuckles. Dark flecks of hair covered the backs of her hands. At her slender wrists, the hair suddenly grew longer, thicker, curlier, and as it spread up her forearms its lushness only increased, giving her a flagrantly feral quality. Her upper forearm hair was at least three or four inches long, and it was smoothed straight, perhaps an attempt to give it a lower profile. Even so, it formed a dark dense carpet with a feel factor that promised to be off the charts.

We chatted about this and that, I bought her another drink, and then I just came right out and said it: "I love how hairy your arms are."

"Really?" she asked. She couldn't believe it. "Most people think it's gross."

"I think it's beautiful," I said. I took her hand in mine and began to stroke the hair on her arm. It actually tickled my palm. I raked my fingers through the thickest parts of it, and it spiked out tantalizingly.

Rani Kaur smiled. "You know, I'm hairy all over."

"Really?" I said.

She nodded. "I don't shave. You should see my armpits. They're hairier than a man's."

"Is that an invitation?" I asked.

She smiled coyly.

"What about your legs?" I asked.

"My legs, too."

"Tell me how hairy they are."

"The hair is really long and thick. I love to run my fingers through it."

My swollen cock was straining against my pants. I made no attempt to conceal it.

"Would you like to dance?" I asked.

I followed her out onto the dance floor. It was packed. The strobe was flashing. The great thing about strobe lights is that since people can only see you in glimpses, you can dance unself-consciously in public. She wasn't a great dancer. Neither was I. We just did our own thing. I had my hands on her hips. Her hands were on my shoulders. We were just standing in place swaying to the music, which was ear-splittingly loud. I pulled her to me, thrust my crotch up against hers, and ran my hands up and down her hairy arms. This was hair you could really feel. I mussed it up and smoothed it out. I tugged it gently.

"I feel like you're fucking my hairy arms," Rani Kaur shouted to be heard above the music. I planted my lips on hers. Her mouth opened to receive my tongue. I could feel her mustache hairs tickling my smooth-shaven upper lip. My fingertips grazed the thick down on her cheeks as she sucked my tongue. I raked my fingers through her eyebrows. Her long hairs sprouted up wildly, like those of an ancient Greek wood nymph.

"Let's go out of here," I said.

She balked. "I'm meeting someone here," she said. "My boyfriend."

"Is it serious?"

"We've been going out for a long time." She excused herself to go to the ladies room. I returned to the bar. A moment later, she reappeared. "The toilet in the ladies' room is gross. The lock on the men's room is broken. Can you come back with me and stand guard while I pee?"

Who says chivalry isn't dead? Rani Kaur and I wended our way through the dancers to the dark narrow corridor where the bathrooms were. Not only was the lock on the men's room broken, but the door didn't close all the way. You could see in. "I've really gotta go!" Rani Kaur exclaimed. I couldn't get the door closed from the outside. I entered the men's room with her, grasped the doorknob, and yanked it closed. When I let go it popped back open. I yanked it closed again.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" I asked.

"This toilet is filthy. Oh God, I'm going to pee in my pants."

"Take off your pantyhose and your panties and just squat over the toilet without touching it," I suggested helpfully.

She looked at me. "You'll see me naked!" As I grinned, she kicked off her pumps and stripped off her pantyhose. Her legs were entirely covered with long coarse curly hairs. The hair sprouted from her toes, and flourished at her ankles in curly profusion. It spread up the swell of her calf, swirled around her knees, and lined her thighs in one-to-two-inch curls. Down came the panties. She promptly covered her cunt with her skirt so I only got a momentary glimpse of a dark brown triangle overspilling the natural creases of her crotch, but it was enough to tell that this woman had serious hair between her legs.

She squatted over the toilet, holding up her skirt with one hand. I relaxed my grip on the doorknob. The door stayed in place, freeing my hand. I began to strip off my clothes.

"What are you doing?" Rani Kaur gasped.

"I have to fuck you," I said straight out. Then she started to pee. She squatted even lower and lifted her skirt even higher as the first golden gush streamed into the filthy toilet, and I could better see how thickly haired her crotch was. I thrust my hand between her legs. I could feel the forceful jet of her piss against my hand. Her bush was so thick that grabbing a handful of hair was too tempting to pass up. Rani Kaur's clit was quite long, nearly an inch I guessed, and quite erect. I held it gently between my thumb and forefinger and jerked her off.

"Oh fuck," she hissed.

I pulled her top up over her head. Thick tufts of hair filled her armpits. They had an incredible musky smell. I buried my face in each of them, licking and swirling the hair around with my tongue. I knew her tits were small even before I unhooked her bra, but they were beautiful, tipped with inch-long nipples, each surrounded by long corkscrewing hairs. But her entire breasts were hairy, and her chest between them contained a dense forest that I caressed hungrily. I sucked her hairy nipples hard as she arched her back to give me better access. I raked her thick curly treasure trail with my fingers.

"Take off your skirt," I requested.

Somebody rapped on the door. It held.

"We're busy!" I shouted. "Come back in ten minutes."

"Oh, man, I gotta go."

"Ten minutes!"

I unzipped Rani Kaur's skirt and yanked it down. Entirely naked, she was a hairy wonder to behold. With her wild bushy eyebrow, her ticklish mustache, her hairy face, her incredibly hairy arms, those lush thickets of hair in her armpits. her hairy tits and chest with her long nipples engulfed in hair, her profusely hairy crotch, and her curly-haired legs, I had no choice but to push her up against the porcelain-tiled wall, grab her hairy ass cheeks with my hands, and thrust my throbbing cock into her to the hilt. I could feel her thick pubic hair against mine as I pumped her with piston-like thrusts. Her cunt hair was still wet from her pee, but I didn't care. It made fucking her dirtier. I spread her ass cheeks wide, felt the long thick curly hair sprouting in her ass crack, and then plunged a finger into her asshole. "Oh God!" she gasped and began humping back even more lewdly.

I turned her around. "Stick your ass out," I ordered. She did as she was told. "Your ass is incredibly hairy," I observed. "Spread your cheeks so I can see just how hairy you are down there." Again, she obeyed. Her puckered pit was fringed by thick dark hairs that spread across her ass cheeks. The hair in her ass crack grew in a curly clump between her ass cheeks above her asshole. I tugged at those hairs: I find them hot.

I pushed my cock into her hairy shitter. There was some resistance at first, but then the swollen head of my cock penetrated her anus. After that, I slid right in, feeling the hair in her ass crack against my shaft as I slowly burrowed deeper and deeper until my balls were brushing her hairy cunt from above. Her hairy arms were folded against the bathroom wall. I ran my fingers through her thick forearm hair while thrusting into her hairy asshole. I felt her bushy armpits. I squeezed her hairy tits. Then I reached down between her legs, feeling my way through the dense thicket covering her crotch until I found that amazingly long clit. It grew as hard as a little cock between my fingers. I jerked her off while I fucked her in the ass ever-quickening thrusts. "Oh God," she moaned. "I'm cumming."

At that moment, my cock twitched violently in her asshole as I filled her with my milky load.

We kissed, our tongues intertwining.

"I've got to get out of here," she said.

She hurriedly dressed. I did, too. And just in time: the guy who had wanted to pee before was back. He gave us an odd look as we emerged from the men's room together. Then he shrugged and disappeared inside.

"Wait here. Let me go out alone," Rani Kaur said.

I lingered in the shadows of the corridor, watching her as she entered the throng. A good-looking guy came up to her. He was upset, yelling something, arms flailing. Rani Kaur stabbed her finger in my direction. He glanced where she pointed. He seemed mollified. He put his arm around her and kissed her neck. He looked at her. His fingers touched her neck. He rubbed his fingertips together. She was dewy from the fucking I had given her. Perhaps he smelled her fuck smell, or her pee. His nostrils seemed to flair. Then she took his hand and drew him into the crowd.

My hairy girlfriend- Simran

Now, as with any other attractive girl I have ever met, I had spent some time imagining what Simran might look like naked. I had pictured her nipples being big and brown, but I saw they were actually pink. But what surprised me more than that, in that brief moment, was seeing that her nipple was surrounded by strands of black hair.

 To be honest, I can’t really pinpoint where my fetish for hairy women began. As a kid, I can remember looking at old photos of Punjabi woman in salwar suit, and thinking they looked slightly strange with the thick patches of hair in their armpits and hairy legs, and when I did see the occasional woman with hairy upper lips and hairy arms in village fields and market, I thought it unusual rather than exciting. I can remember visiting a young cousin of mine called Rupinder in Patiyala, a girl I had a bit of a crush on, and my surprise when she raised one arm over her head and displayed a patch of fuzzy, dark black hair in her armpit.It was a shame for me that time as she had more hair than me in her underarms.


But all that began to gradually change. A major influence was my Aunty Harinder Kaur, my mother’s younger sister. Harinder Aunty was a bit of a hippy who we only ever saw infrequently, but when she did visit, usually to stay for a few weeks, she always brought me great presents and took me out to interesting places with her. I thought she was wonderful, and I couldn’t help but notice thick growth of spiky black  hair under her big nose like man . I was just starting to get into girls in earnest, and found myself seeking out photos of hirsute women, and keeping an eye out in the street for glimpses of hairy women mustache. I would lock these images away in my memory, and masturbate to them later on.

I can remember discussing the matter of female body hair with my first girlfriend, saying I didn’t see why most women felt it was so essential to shave. My girlfriend, a tall Punjabi who had up till now religiously shaved her face and legs, didn’t seem terribly convinced by my arguments. Sometimes during winter she would stop shaving her face for a while, but every time the hair got long enough to look attractive she’d go and shave again, to my great frustration. My girlfriend after that was a Bengali with very sparse hair on her body, so it was a bit of a moot point whether she shaved or not.

All of which brings me to my brief but rewarding relationship with a girl I worked with called Simran. She was a Kashmir girl, the same age as me, with an attractive face, brown eyes, olive skin, curly black shoulder-length hair and very big breasts. When I met her, on the day she started, she was wearing a short sleeved blouse and jeans.

I could see from the dark hair on her forearms, and the hint of down on her upper lip, that she was a naturally very hairy girl. When she wore a skirt the following day, I was pleased to see that, indeed, she didn’t shave her legs. Then, a few days after that, I got in to work and saw that she was wearing a sleeveless top. I went over to her desk to talk to her. As we talked her phone rang, and when she reached over to pick it up, I was thrilled to see a thick patch of black hair in her armpit

Simran and I got on well. We shared a sense of humor, as well as liking a lot of the same books, movies, etc, so we always had something to talk about. I knew that, like me, she was in a relationship though, and didn’t hold up much hope of us ever getting together. Then I started to hear some stories about her which suggested that she was a bit wilder than she seemed on first impressions. She loved to go out dancing, I heard, and one night one of my fellow workers saw her in a nightclub getting intimate with a girl, so that a rumor went around the office that she was a lesbian. That made her even more interesting to me.I thought she would always take a masculine role in the relationship.

One day, I was making a cup of coffee in the kitchen at work when Simran came in. There was a small fridge in there and Simran knelt down on the floor next to me to put something in it. She was wearing a brown cotton top with a low, round neck, and when I looked down at her a thrill went through me like an electric shock. The blouse had fallen forward and, as she wasn’t wearing a bra, for a few delicious seconds I had a clear view of her right breast and nipple.
I had read about women with hairy nipples before, but it was the first time I had seen this in real life. As Simran stood up and began to chat to  me, I’m afraid I was a little tongue-tied.

I went off and tried to do some work, but I couldn’t keep my mind on it. Eventually I had to go into the toilet and masturbate, thinking about what I had seen. Despite all my fantasizing about hairy women, hairy nipples were not something I had considered sexy before. It must feel weird to suck on them, I thought. And yet, the more I considered it, the more I appealing the prospect became.

It was a radio contest that eventually got us together. She won a couple of tickets to a film that we had both talked about wanting to see, and she invited me to see it with her.

We enjoyed the film and went to a pub afterwards to talk about it. We had a few drinks and she told me about her family and her boyfriend, an older guy who she was having problems with. She hadn’t seen him for a week, she said. I told her that my girlfriend was away for the week, visiting her parents in the Village. She nodded. If that gave her any ideas her face didn’t show it.

At closing time left the pub. We were standing on the street outside, waiting for taxis to take us our separate ways when, without thinking about what I was doing, I put my arms around her and kissed her. She immediately kissed me back. For perhaps ten blissful minutes we stood kissing passionately as cars drove past us. I ran my hands over her back, then cupped one of her round huge breasts in my hand, and rubbed my thumb against her nipple which felt hard through the material of her T-shirt.

Coming to my senses I hailed a cab and we both got in. "Where are we going?" I asked her.

"Do you want to come back to my place?" she asked.

That sounded fine to me.

We continued to kiss in the back of the cab on the trip there, which took about 15 minutes. Simran lived by herself in a block of flats by a beach. We walked up a couple of flights of stairs, grabbing at each other and laughing drunkenly. When we got to her door she started to search her handbag for her key. I couldn’t control myself any longer and, pushing her back against the door, pulled her T-shirt up and kissed her big, beautiful breasts, my lips brushing against the hairs around her nipples. I felt her hand fumbling at my belt, undoing it, and then she managed to unzip my pants and thrust a hand into my underpants and felt my cock.
Suddenly we heard someone coming up the stairs. Simran, laughing, managed to find her key and opened the door and we literally fell into her flat. She was wearing jeans and I managed to unzip them and pull them down to her ankles. It was only now that I realized just how hairy she was. The insides of her thighs were covered with dark, thick hair which extended perhaps six inches beyond her crotch, while above the waistband of the red cotton panties she was wearing, a trail of black curls led to her bellybutton. The rest of her legs were hairy as well,more hairy than me, although when I ran a hand up them I found that the hairs, while dark, were quite fine to the touch.

Taking hold of the waistband of her panties above her hips, I pulled then down – she lifted her butt off the floor to help me – and tossed them away. Simran immediately spread her legs wide, and I caught a glimpse of plump, dark pink folds of flesh in the midst of her massive bush.

 Simran, obviously not in need of any foreplay, cried out "Fuck me, Fuck me!" in a voice I felt sure the neighbours would hear – but what did I care about that? On automatic pilot now I stood up, pulled my shoes off, and got my trousers and underpants off. Kneeling down I took my cock in my hand, gazing at Simran’s hairy cunt, and a few strokes were enough to get me completely hard. Falling on top of her, I pressed the head of my dick into her cunt meat, and found that she was wet, and slipped easily in.

I began to fuck her. "God, that’s it – harder!" she said, and I began to really pound her, as hard as I could. She had her eyes closed and she kept making a lot of noise until she came with a scream, and I let myself cum too.

We collapsed together on the couch and got our breath back. "Well, that was fucking nice," she said. She still had her T-shirt on and I lifted it up and gazed at her beautiful hairy breasts with the long nipples. I put my mouth to one of her nipples and began to gently suck on it as she stroked the back of my head.

As I continued to enjoy her tits she reached down and took hold of my cock and began to stroke it. When I was hard again she slipped off the couch onto the floor and started sucking me with a passion. When I told her I was about to cum she nodded vigorously without taking my dick out of her mouth. I ejaculated onto her tongue and she sat back against the couch, licking her hairy lips and swallowing it all. She would later confess to me that she loved the taste of sperm, and as long as I was seeing her I was never in want of a blowjob.

Later, I lay in bed with her, nuzzling my face into her hairy armpit, my tongue licking at the damp hair, tasting her salty sweat.

"God, Simran, I love your body," I said.

"You don’t think I’m too hairy?"

"No, I like it," I said.

"’Cause a lot guys are put off by it, I know."

"No, I think it’s sexy. I – I don’t understand why women shave in the first place. I don’t think it’s natural."

"I used to shave, when I was younger. I used to be so embarrassed about it. And I’d get my legs waxed and round my fanny and my face with my father's razor, oh, it was hell. And the stubble, I’d itch like crazy. And then I thought, fuck it, this is the way I am and if guys don’t like it that’s their problem."

"Well, good for you," I said. I wrapped my arms around her and fell asleep, my face still nestled in her armpit.

I woke up just after dawn. Simran was lying on her belly next to me, fast asleep.

I sat up. The sheet was draped over her buttocks, and I gently pulled it aside. I had a chance to examine her body really closely for the first time. Parting the big black bush of her pubes with my fingertips, I gazed at the thick amber folds of her cunt and, pressing my face to it, took in its strong, humid smell. The hair continued up between her buttocks, and framed her crinkled, reddish brown arsehole, which I sniffed as well and then began to lick, pushing the tip of my tongue into the soft opening.

I felt Simran stir. "Mmm," she said sleepily, "what are you doing?"

I paused. "I’m licking your bum," I said.

"Well, keep doing it. It feels nice."

After a few minutes of indulging myself like this, my chin growing slimy with the juice that was starting to flow from her vagina, I sat up on the bed. I’d had a bit of a hard-on when I woke up but now my dick was really throbbing. I straddled Simran, sitting on my haunches, my cock resting on one round arse cheek.

Placing my hands on her buttocks, parting them, I lifted myself up slightly and planted the head of my dick against her moist slit, which looked startlingly red compared to the surrounding fringe of black hair. I’m not so hairy myself, our pubic hair mingling, made a nice picture of a masculine woman and feminine man.

I began to pump my prick into her, my hands squeezing her round, firm buttocks, my thumbs pressing in towards her anus, stroking the black hairs around it. Simran grabbed hold of the iron bedhead, the muscles of her back and shoulders straining, crying out "Oh, God, you are very girly for me and i am feeling so masculine in front of you, i should fuck you rather, Fuck you." I held onto the bedhead too to give me greater leverage, sweat running down my sides, my belly slapping loudly against her buttocks until we both came in a perfectly timed orgasm.

"Fuck," I said, collapsing on bed beneath of her.

It was a Friday morning and both of us were supposed to be working that day but we called in sick (making phone calls a few minutes apart – we didn’t want them talking in the office about us just yet). We had a shower together where I had great fun soaping her breast and putting lather on her hair face but didn't shave that. Afterwards we dried each other off, and I got her raise her arms, and rubbed her armpits with the towel.

I lay on her bed and watched as she put on a purple silk blouse and a black skirt, and brushed her hair in front of her dressing table mirror. We went and had some breakfast in a nearby café, then, having nothing else in particular to do, did a little browsing in shops and went to a movie (where we spent more time groping each than watching the DDLJ). Walking out of the cinema, Simran spoke to her best friend, Rani, on her mobile phone, and arranged for us to meet her at a bar later that evening.

With a few hours to spare, we bought some wine and went back to Simran’s flat. I poured us a couple of glasses and we drank a toast to our affair, however long it was going to last. We were sitting on the couch and my eyes wandered, as they had been wandering all day, to her breasts . I put my glass on the coffee table and began to unbutton the blouse. Simran smiled lasciviously and said, "You love my tits, don’t you?", thrusting out her chest as I undid the last button and pulled the blouse open.

Cupping her breasts, one in each hand, I kissed them reverently, feeling the heavy weight of them, and licked her hairy nipples. "They’re superb," I whispered.

"I know," she said, laughing. Meanwhile she was rubbing my chest through my t shirt. "Get your pussy out," she said.

I was surprised by her manly behavior but did as I was told, unzipping my pants and pulling it out. It was half erect, but began to stiffen as soon as she started touching it.

"Come into the bedroom," she said. "I’ve got a treat for you."

With my penis grasped firmly in her hand she led me into the bedroom and told me to sit on the bed and take off my clothes. She pulled her blouse off, unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor, the pulled her panties down and tossed them to me. I laughed and pressed them to my nose, smelling the cunty smell on them.

She went to her dressing table, picked up an ornate glass bottle which was sitting on it and came over to me. She poured some of the contents – it was a thick, perfumed, rose coloured oil – onto her hand and rubbed it onto my cock and balls. She then upended the bottle over herself so that some of the oil dripped onto her breasts. Putting the bottle down she ran her hands over her tits so they were completely coated with the oil.

She lean over me and we kissed. Her big, oily hairy tits were pressed against me, slipping and sliding against my smooth chest in a delightful manner. Then she lay on her back on the bed and motioned that I get on top of her. She had me move up until my stiff, oiled prick lay between her tits. Taking one in each hand she squeezed them together, my cock imprisoned between the fleshy mounds. It felt wonderful!

I began to move my cock back and forth, titfucking her, watching the head of it emerge from between her breasts then disappear again. She bent her head forward, her long tongue licking at the tip as it peeped out.

I felt I was going to cum soon. "Put your arms back," I said, and she threw them behind her head. I grabbed hold of her greased tits, grinding my cock between them, drinking in the sight of the black hair in her armpits until I ejaculated with a shudder, my sperm splashing onto her neck.

"Did you enjoy that?" she asked. One of her hands went to the sperm, her fingertips dabbing at it, then licked them.

An hour later we were sitting in the bar waiting for Rani, whom Simran had told me all about during the day. They were obviously close friends. When Rani finally arrived I recognized her from a few times when she had come in to our office to see Simran. She was an attractive if slightly feral looking girl with a long, pretty, freckled face, blonde dreadlocks, an assortment of piercings in ears, nose and tongue, and Celtic tattoos on her arms.

We spent a few hours at the bar, talking and laughing, then went to a nightclub. While we were on the dance floor Simran and Rani started hugging and kissing each other and feeling each other’s tits, to the delight of the other dancers. Later, when we got back to my place, I asked Simran if she and Rani ever fucked. She smiled mischievously and said, "What do you think?"

On the following day, Saturday, a friend of Simran’s was having a birthday party in a beach house she had rented up on the coast. Rani turned up around 11am, looking rather the worse for wear, to drive us there (she had ended up getting off with a guy, she explained, and going back to his flat to snort coke). She was wearing a red tank top and cargo pants, and I noted with approval the patches of fuzzy, dark blonde hair in her armpits, not nearly as thick as Simran’s, but nice all the same. Rani and I had hit it off together, and already visions of the three of us in a ménage a trois were dancing in my head.

It was a great party, with about thirty people getting blind drunk and going crazy. There was an impromptu band, and some of the girls went skinny dipping – including both Simran and Rani. Rani had a nice body – pale skin and large, tapering breasts with rings through the nipples. She had just the hint of a pot belly, and at the base of it a big untrimmed bush of dark blonde pubes. Later, when she was dressed again, I had a brief moment alone with her, and put my arm around her and gave her a playful kiss, at the same time giving one of her tits a gentle squeeze. She grabbed my hand but, instead of pushing it away, slid it under her top so I could get a proper feel.

The party went until dawn, but I can’t say I remember much about the last few hours. Simran and I woke up on the beach next morning with pounding headaches. Everyone retired to a nearby hotel for some recovery drinks, and we stayed there for lunch.

About two o’clock we piled back into Rani’s car and headed for home. It was a hot, sunny day and the car didn’t have any air conditioning, so about an hour into the trip Simran suggested we stop at one of the mostly deserted beaches we had been driving past for a swim. I backed up this suggestion wholeheartedly.

Rani parked the car at the next beach we came to. We found our towels in the boot and walked down towards the water. Rani was wearing a cheese-cloth top and cut-off jeans, and after last night’s display I was hopeful she would swim nude again. I wasn’t disappointed. When we got close to the water’s edge, we laid our towels on the sand. Rani pulled her top over her head and the jeans off – she hadn’t been wearing any panties, I noticed – and ran naked into the water. Simran and I followed suit.

We swam around happily for about half an hour, then emerged dripping and lay on our towels, with me in the middle. It felt nice to be naked in front of them. Simran leant over me and kissed me, and began to run her hand over my chest.

"So," she said to Rani, "what do you think of him? I told you he had a nice body."

"Simran, she looks girly in front of you!" I said.

"Don’t you think so?"

"Oh, it’s not bad, you also look girly in front of Simran, she is so hairy and big" said Rani, smirking a little.

"What about his cock?"

"Simran!" I said, looking at her horrified. I might have been an exhibitionist, but this was going a bit far.

"Do you think it’s big enough?" asked Simran.

"I don’t know," said Rani, staring straight at my penis now, which was lying flat on my belly and, after the cold water, not looking too big at all. "How big does it get?"

"Let’s see," said Simran, reaching over and taking it in her hand. I gasped involuntarily and sat up.

"Hey, relax," she said, pushing me back down while continuing to gently massage my cock and balls. I lay back on the towel again. God, it felt good, and the fact that Rani was watching her do it made it better. I felt myself rapidly getting hard.

Simran was kneeling beside me now, jerking me forcefully so that the head of my prick was swollen and shiny. Then, grinning cheekily at Rani, she bent over me and wrapped her lips around it. I let out another gasp as she started to fellate me.

Simran drag me to beach and put me on my stomach and lay down on my back. Grasp my chest from both side and start humping me. Rani cry in joy saying " you made him also you bitch , you can hump anybody who walks on earth. you are such a masculine women. 

and than i propose her to marry me......The End

Hairy mature aunty seduced by young boy

"I want to see you naked aunty," I had told her, and then I had told her that I wanted to see her naked and then lick her body from head to toe.

She didn't understand. That was something she had said several times after I told her what I wanted. What would a young boy want with a 41 year old woman?

First of all, I'm 19 and while that's not all that old I'm not a kid even though my Mom always tells me to grow up. I am a bit immature, or so I've been told, but I've also been told I'm cute although that praise usually came from doting aunts and the like. Rekha even told me that when we first met and I eagerly ran an errand for her.

As for Rekha being 41, that I didn't know, I figured she was more like my Mom's age, mid 30's or so. Rekha's black hair doesn't have a hint of gray in it, and it's so black that it's like another color all together.

That hair color is natural, or at least that was my guess because I hadn't seen any evidence of hair coloring kits in her bathroom like my Mom uses, and given her very modest income from her job in the school cafeteria I was pretty sure she couldn't afford to go to a beauty parlor.

Snooping around her bathroom cabinets under the pretense of having to go I learned quite a bit about Rekha but what I didn't find was even more interesting that what I saw.

No razors or shaving cream either, and I checked the cabinets and the shower as well. That meant that what I had suspected from a fleeting glimpse up the baggy sleeve of her blouse might in fact true. She didn't shave her armpits, and maybe nowhere else either because she always wore slacks and socks.

Was it because she was a feminist who didn't believe in shaving? More likely it may have been because when you're an old maid living alone there was no reason to bother. Goodness knows she probably didn't suspect that the goofy kid down the hall was trying to peek up her sleeves.

I was just a kid she had befriended, and when she found out that I liked to play video game she suggested we play on nights I had nothing to do. Since that covered just about every night, I had become a fixture and since Rekha always welcomed me I assume the same was true of her.

So she played game and even bought beer for us to drink despite me not being old enough. Maybe the beer had helped loosen my tongue. Who knows?

She always chooses a man avatar and usually I choose a female role. She like to beat me in the game and sometime ask my avatar to strip down for her. I think she is dominating and want to will all the time and she liked me because I usually loss to her and my character is used to be manhandled by her in her video game.

Every evening we sat on sofa or bed with a distance from each other and played, and while she equipped her character with manly wear and big mustache, I studied Rekha. Memorized her every feature and had imagined what she look the same in a way underneath her clothes as her character looked on video screen.

Rekha was a native of India with only a faint trace of an accent, and spoke English better than most of us born here. She also was thrilled to be in America, having become a citizen as soon as she could and made no secret of how much she loved it her, only regretting that her family hadn't come here earlier.

Her skin was a deep brown and while she didn't smile all that much at first I could see she had nice teeth that stood out nicely on her pleasantly attractive face.

She had small tits and since at 5'10" and maybe 140 pounds at best she looks like a slender man or a tall woman to say the least. She wore a 34A bra that was padded, with that information coming from a peek through her hamper, and Rekha face was very pretty with slightly big nose.

I had fished one of her banyan and boxer she used to wear, a very frumpy full cut pair that evens my Mom would find too square, but when I bought them to my face and inhaled around the slight discoloration in front I got something besides a blast of pungent scent.

A hair, a solitary black hair caught in the bunched elastic, and just seeing that made me hard. Rekha was a very hairy woman, and I didn't get that from actually seeing that hair. There were other hints that led me to that conclusion as well.

There was the hint of a moustache she had. Just a faint down but fully covered her upper lips area till under her big nose and noticeable to anybody passing by, and then there were her sideburns. Thick muttonchops, a swirl of black down that swooped around the fronts of her ears, and then there were her arms.

That had been my downfall, having to sit next to those tiny brown limbs with the long fine black hairs that went from her wrists up to where her short sleeves blocked any further view.

And then there was me craning my neck in an attempt to look up her sleeve every time she lifted the quart of beer to pour another glass. She has drinking capacity more than me.

This was only the second time she wore anything as "daring" as short sleeves, but this was the first time I had touched her.

Unable to restrain myself I had interrupted her in mid-deal, reaching over to put my hand on her forearm, and when she froze I let my hair slide slowly up and down her arm.

The hair was every bit as hard as it had looked, and after letting my fingers made the hairs billow in their wake I saw her brown skin become covered with goose bumps.

"I love this," I had mumbled as the hairs began to stand up like a porcupine's, and while Rekha had first given me a nervous smile that smile gave away to a nervous expression that continued as I continued to rub her hairy arm.

"I don't understand you are loving a woman forearms who has more hair than you," Rekha had said although she didn't stop me from letting my palm travel up her forearm until the sleeve stopped me, something I had wanted to do all night.

A lot of guys didn't find this sexy - probably most fellas - and maybe at the school she worked at kids perhaps commented that instead of making the cafeteria women wear nets on their heads they should make Miss Rekha Singh wear them on her arms.

I did. I blame that on my old man, whose porn stash I had uncovered in the attic a while back. Maybe I had inherited this fondness I had regarding women's body hair from him. Those photos and magazines sure suggested Dad liked hairy women as did Mom's armpits, which I had managed to find out after a lot of peeking and spying were not shaved. She didn't wear anything sleeveless around the house and that was probably a good thing.

"I just think you're very sexy," I explained as my hands kept lightly stroking her forearm. "I love women who are more harrier than her man and have a hairy arms - and hair anywhere else too."

"I don't understand," Rekha said as she struggled to comprehend my tastes. "In America, all the women - they remove all their hairs. Everywhere I look - on the TV or in the magazines - all the women are smooth everywhere."

"I know," I said. It wasn't always like this but it is now."

"I tried at first to be like everyone else Babloo. I bought razors and shaved under my face, arms and my legs, but the hair grows back so fast and become more thick," Rekha lamented. "Also, I think it doesn't help that I'm very hairy. My mother was hairy too but not compared to me. I'm like a man in that way, even more so."

"You're definitely a woman and I'm very attracted to you."

"I'm an old woman Babloo," Rekha told me. "This makes no sense. A boy like you - you should find a girl your own age."

"I thought you liked me," I protested.

"I do. Very much so," Rekha admitted. "But what would your mother say?"

"I'm not a child Rekha," I assured her, and if my old man was still alive I know what he would say, especially if he saw Rekha's arms. "I'm not hurting you, am I? Doesn't this feel good?"

"Yes," she admitted. "That's what is bothering me, at least in part. This is not right."

"What's not right? I like you and you say you like me," I insisted, and after Rekha nodded in affirmation I continued. "We're both loners and alone. I think you're beautiful."

"My head is spinning," Rekha said, putting her other hand on her head but continuing to let me rub her other arm even though if I kept it up I might wear the hairs off.

Rekha's arm hair wasn't downy soft like an old girlfriends of mine's was but more coarse like a man, nothing like a feminine man like mine’s probably was, and I wondered what the rest of her was like.

"What is it you want of me?" she said in a voice that sounded as confused as her expression indicated.

"I want to touch you. I just want you to let me touch you all over," I declared. "I won't do anything you don't want me to do."

"You say that now," Rekha said. "Things happen though."

"I swear. Just let me touch you. We could go into the bedroom, you could get undressed and I could give you - like a massage I guess. I want to see you beautiful you are."

"I am 41 years old Babloo, and even when I was younger I didn't look like the ladies in your Playman magazines."

"Playboy you mean, and I know you don't look like that and I'm so glad of that," I said, and when I glanced down and saw that my lap had a massive wet stain on it I was afraid I was going to cum soon. "Please? You tell me to stop I will stop."

"You promise Babloo?" Rekha asked, and after I nodded like a puppy she told me to stay where I was.

Rekha got up and went into the bedroom, but as she did I saw the outline of her nipples pushing out into the blouse and the bra and the padding, and it wasn't cold in her apartment.

A couple of minutes later Rekha called me, and after I went down the hall and made the turn I could see Rekha standing by her bed. She was wearing her usual male undergarment, and I wanted to see her better but she told me as soon as I walked in, "No lights. If you turn the light on I will never speak to you again."

"I won't," I said, and then Rekha got onto her bed, and as she positioned herself on the sheets like a corpse I approached slowly while asking if she minded if I took my clothes off.

"You soiled yourself," Rekha said, and although I was embarrassed I explained to her what happened when a guy was aroused, and I thought that I had a real problem in that regard.

"I told you I thought you were the sexiest woman in the world who likes to wear man’s undergarment," I said as I began peeling off my pants and gooey underwear.

Rekha turned shy and turned away when my dick sprang into view, and I guess that the size of my dick surprised here, although while it's very long it's also really thin, and one girl called me needle dick I couldn't argue. When I looked down at Rekha I discovered that while the room was darkened with only a little street light leaking through the blinds, my eyes were adjusting.

Rekha looked so sweet there, with her brown body so striking against the background of the white sheets and her white undergarments, and looking up like she was about to be operated on. Even with her arms pinned to her sides I could see the black hairs peeking out from the folds of her arms. Her face hair was noticeable on the light coming from the window. She looked perfect blend of a beautiful woman with hairy face.

"I don't have any lotions or whatever it is you use," Rekha croaked nervously.

"It doesn't matter," I assured her because I didn't need any and furthermore, "I don't know what they use anyway. I've never done this before."

"You never did this to any girlfriend of yours?" Rekha asked.

 “I don’t like girls without having body hair, especially manly one” I said

"And this is not normal?" Rekha asked as my hand landed on her ankle, where I learned that she did not shave her legs and the lower calf my fingers were on was definitely very hairy and the hairs were crinkly to the touch.

"It is to me," I said while running my hand upstream, letting the black hairs sifting through my fingers. "I just love hairy women. Never saw a woman with hairy legs before. I like it a lot. I know I'm weird."

"Not really," Rekha said, seeming to relax as she watched me rubbing her calves. "My grandfather - he also liked hairy girls. I became hairy very young, hairier than my brothers and he would do me what you were doing out in the hall; just rub the hair on my arms and ankles. He never did anything else to me although if he did I would not have stopped him. He made me feel that I am masculine and loveable."

"You are very masculine and sexy, more than a man in our neighborhood I know," I assured her as my hand kept rubbing.

"I met a man years ago, he was a bit of smoother than me, was short in height also” Rekha continued. "He liked my hairy body and told me to behave manly in front of him so that he can pretend to be my girlfriend, he was a cross dresser. He use to dress in a typical Indian woman saree and makeup and made me his bride groom and ask me to love him while wearing a false mustache. We even moved in together and I thought I was in love with his submission to me in bed."

"That's good."

"I thought so. Then he said he wanted to take pictures of me while wearing big mustaches like kings do. He said that he wanted to always remember how sexy I become while dressing as a man with big mustaches. I used to like it and was sure he would not leave me someday,"

Rekha explained. "He didn't have a job most of the time and I was supporting us but I liked it in a way to behave as a man of the house and I didn't care because I loved him and loved being accepted we both were.

"What happened?"

"The pictures, He was a very good photographer and the pictures came out very well but then he started pressing me to take my clothes off. Before I knew it he was taking pictures of me nude and had been showing everything. With my legs apart and my arms raised to show how hairy I am. Then he wanted me to pose with another woman and I refused."

"Good."

"Then he said, what about posing with him as a girl? I wouldn't have to do anything but stand there naked and let him touch me, so I finally did it just to please him. Then I found out that he was selling the pictures hiding his face to a company that put them in magazines so the world thinks I'm like that."

"Oh," I replied, feeling guilty not only because my old man might have bought one of them but also for wishing I could have seen a picture of Rekha wearing big bushy mustaches with his sissy boyfriend as a girl.

"So that is why I'm very cautious - suspicious."

"I understand. You can trust me but I'll earn that trust. No cameras or anything like that. Just my eyes and hands."

"You have very soft hands like girls," Rekha remarked.

"My girlfriend - ex-girlfriend," I said. "I kept asking her to stop shaving her armpits for a while but she refused. She said I had a fetish. I guess I do."

"There are worse things, you also very feminine who like masculine girls like me, hairy body is a hint of masculinization" Rekha replied.

"I don’t care, May be you are right that’s why I love your boxer which you wear instead of panty," I said as my eyes went up to the white cotton Rupa Macro-man that were something a grandfather would wear. "I was hoping you would take them off but this is nice too. I love the way the hairs stick out the top of this elastic."

I let my hands go up to Rekha's upper thighs, and my heart fluttered a bit when I stroked the wayward hairs.

"You are really kinky who are continuously admiring my hairy body and dripping," Rekha commented, and when I glanced down at my bobbing erection I could see a long string of pre-cum hanging from the tip.

"Sorry," I said as it fell off and onto the sheets.

"You are large but thin," Rekha said, biting her lips as she looked at my dick. " I wish I could have a large Lund like you but thicker also."

"I'm 19 so it’s still in developing state," I reminded her even though my boyish features suggested differently. “I wish you a thicker dick, mine is long but it's really skinny. I've gotten kidded about it before."

"That's not very nice. I know what it feels like to be made fun of. Your Lund is very beautiful though. Some men's aren't but yours is very attractive. The most appealing part is that it is aroused while looking at me. It is so hard it curls upwards."

"I know," I replied as my hands went up from her hips and rubbed her stomach, admiring the trail of black hairs that started just under her belly button and widened until disappearing into her boxer.

"Here," Rekha said as she reached up and undid her bra which had a front clasp, and as she pulled the cups from her breasts she suggested. "It's not as if I need the harness."

"Nonsense," I said, and although her breasts were even smaller than I had imagined - due in part to her being on her back - Rekha's nipples were large, the chocolate hued pegs looking erotic on the small swells of her breasts which were mostly areola. "They're beautiful."

"Hair everywhere," Rekha lamented, nodding toward the long manly hairs around the edges of her areolas, and while there were quite long and thick I shy for having smooth chest in comparison to her, Flatness of her breast making them even manlier than mine. I suspected that if she knew that I am doing a comparison of her hairy breasts with my smooth chest. She would be enjoying the status being earned by her.

"Nice," I suggested, and then asked, "Rekha, could you lift your arms? That's it - put your hands behind your neck."

"Like this?" Rekha asked, and when I nodded I noticed sweat from my forehead dropping on Rekha's stomach.

I had seen plenty of women with unshaven armpits in pictures and in movies, but seeing Rekha in all her natural glory was amazing. This wasn't like craning my neck to peek up her sleeves. She was exposing her unconventionally beautiful self to me, which I thought was courageous.

The black tufts of hair that filled her armpits was so dense and inviting that I couldn't help myself from reaching up and touching them, and then I let my fingers slide into the little jungles, finding the slightly moist fur soft and warm.

"You enjoy this?" Rekha asked about my lightly raking her armpit hair, and when I nodded she smiled and added. "It feels nice - as nice as the look on your face. You are such a sweet young boy to treat a woman so lovingly."

I shrugged because what can you say to that? I leaned down and kissed Rekha lightly on her mustached lips before moving over and kissing her armpits, savoring the natural scent of her and reveling in the springy nature of her hair.

"I know you want to get humped, at least not now," Rekha whispered in my ear. "I also know that you are very aroused and need release."

That was obvious, and I was prepared to take care of that myself as soon as Rekha got tired of me playing with her body, but she had other ideas.

"I would like to help you Babloo," Rekha said "If you trust me?"

Trust Rekha? I would have walked over hot coals for her, so when she had me straddle her so my right knee was in her crotch - my kneecap pressed into the very soggy cotton and my left knee was at her side - it was no problem.

"You must not touch yourself Babloo," Rekha explained as she had me put my hands on my hips while my raging Lund waved over her stomach. "Allow me to do the touching." She started commanding.

"Okay," I wheezed as she brought her right hand down from behind her neck while leaving her left hand where it was behind her head, serving the dual purposes of keeping her face pointed at me while affording me the opportunity to look at her left armpit.

"I have not touched a man in many years," Rekha said as her hand moved up between my spread thighs, and when she got to my dangling balls I couldn't help the pathetic moan that came out of me. "Then again, few men seem to delight in looking at me. Does this feel good?"

"Yes," I grunted while Rekha rolled my nuts around in her strong brown paw as the wicked little smile on her face indicated she enjoyed my reaction.

"What do you call these - your testicles I mean? I know the slang words for a man's organ but like to use the word Lund."

"Tatte - nuts," I grunted in sweet agony.

"Tatte. I like that," Rekha said. "You have nice Tatte Babloo. They are large like your Lund, and I can feel how full of your seed they are. Does this hurt?"

"No," I choked as I felt her gently twist them a little. "Feels good."

"And this?" Rekha asked, twisting them a little more, and she kept asking while her hand kept working and I kept saying no. She started dominating me like she used to do in video-game.

"I would not want to hurt your beautiful Tatte," Rekha lied a little bit but she went back to gently kneading my sac. "I had almost twisted them into a knot."

"Felt well," I admitted.

" I know you always like beaten by me in video game and now you want release don't you Babloo?" She asked me seducing way and I nodded. "Your Lund is dripping like sap from a tree. Your Tatte must be overflowing. I think you want to touch yourself don't you?"

"Yes - you said not to thouch."

"That's right. Isn't this  fun?"

"Yes."

"Do you play with yourself often?" Rekha asked.

"Yes - a lot more lately," I admitted. "Think of you when I do it."

"Oh," Rekha said, but she didn't seem upset, instead saying, "I like the idea of that. Push your knee more into me. That's it."

Now my bony knee was really grinding into her crotch and Rekha seemed to be pushing herself into it as well, her eyes looking a little glazed.

"I would like to see that sometime," Rekha said as I felt her fingers move up to the area right under my dick. "The sight of you stroking yourself would be very erotic to me. Do you use one hand or two?"

"One - my fist."

"You are large enough to use both," Rekha said, and then I felt her finger slide ever so slowly along the underside of my cock, running lightly over the veiny undercarriage as she kept talking.

"Such a long Lund you have Babloo." she whispered as her finger neared the cleft on the underside of my dick. "I have never experienced a man your size inside of me – if someday I would have such a Lund I would like to be gentle with my man, and she started laughing."

"Yes," I practically cried as her finger reached the tip of my dick which was drooling wildly.

"But what if I didn't want myself to be gentle?" Rekha asked as she brought her finger up to her mouth and sucked on the gooey digit like it was a dick. "What if you wanted me to savage you?"

"Anything!"

"What if I deside to take you anally?" she asked while bringing her hand up between my legs again while practically humping my knee and while the temperature in the room was normal the humidity hung in the air like a fog. "Have you ever done that to a woman? Have you ever put your manhood into a woman's anus?"

"No," I sobbed as my aching tatte got milked some more.

"Someday perhaps - Babloo - you're sweating so much."

"So are you," I blurted out, having noticed the beads of perspiration on Rekha's mustache as well as the rivulets of sweat pouring down from her bushy armpit.

"Yes," Rekha said in a voice that sounded ragged as my own. "I think I'm going to have an orgasm soon - I want you to join me."

"Trying not to," I gasped.

"Wait for me," Rekha implored me, now thrusting her crotch into me so hard that bed was bumping the wall. "Soon very soon. Want to see you - want to see your Lund erupt - cover me with your seed."

"Can't hold it," I said - or maybe I screamed while Rekha was pushing the underside of my cock hard, and then I felt dizzy.

I wanted to reach down and jerk myself off which would take less than a second, but I didn't. Instead I reached up and grabbed my hair, and then my dick erupted.

Rekha was cackling madly, her hairy thighs grabbing my smooth leg while my cock sprang around crazily, spurting my milky white cum all over her brown body in an orgasm that didn't seem to want to end.

When my head cleared I could see that not only had I drenched poor Rekha with my ejaculations but she had cum too and for the first time actually touched my cock. Her hand had grabbed my deflating dick and was pulling it downward as if to milk every drop out of me.

"I made a mess," I mentioned, but Rekha just smiled and welcomed me down to embrace her.

"All gooey and hairy and sweaty," she commented as we hugged.

"And I'm loving it," I assured Rekha, and to prove it I brought her wrist back towards her headboard and buried my face under her arm, licking the salty thicket like a hungry puppy.

"That's it Babloo. Lick my bushy armpits. Suck on it," Rekha started becoming dominating and insisted her other face pushed my face in to emphasize how much she enjoyed it too.

"Two can play at that," Rekha soon responded and become aggressive while I was getting weak after ejaculation, and then I submitted and let her overpower me.

She put me onto my back and leaned over me and pinned me down. "I noticed while you had your hands up before that, my armpits are much hairier than yours."

"yes " I said as she giggled just before lowering her face into my armpit and licking the tiny wisps Your legs are too less of hair, the sensation of her tongue making me shiver and turning me on.

"You like that me being harrier and manly than you?"

"O my god yes," I said.

"Tomorrow night if you come over for rummy don't use deodorant," Rekha said. "It burns the tongue and besides I love the smell of a man. I miss that."

"Anything you want. This has been the most amazing experience I've ever had," I said. "We don't have to play video game though."

"I think we should Babloo. I think when I beat you in the game, it exited me a lot and I use to become Horney and it adds to the excitement," Rekha explained.

"Now that I know that I wasn't imagining it when I sensed to looking at me the way you did along with the way I embrace how hirsute I am, you feel more at ease."

"Whatever you say."

"We'll take it very slow," Rekha informed me. "We will explore each other like peeling the layers of an onion, or you will get hurt by me I use to become sometime very agreassive."

"Hurt?" I said as I rolled over onto my side to face her. "Do I look so soft?"

"oh ya, you looked like a sissy boy to me but you don't worry Babloo," Rekha admitted as she felt my stiffening dick press against her hairy thigh. "And I certainly won't hurt you with my aggressive and dominating nature. I can control for my sissy boy. You have me wondering what it will feel like one day to becoming of man inside me."

"Man inside you?" I asked while admitting. "I never did get the gender system but it sounds impressive. Did you mean what you said before - about your bottom I mean?"

"In time perhaps," Rekha said. "Although you might not like what you get there."

"Why?"

"I' wanted to try the toy big enough to satisfy my mental imagination about me being a man in relationship and I can be very rough. It will make you feel woman in front of me" she said with a laugh.

"What a surprise!" I roared as we hugged and kissed, a 41 year old woman sounding like a man and me, feeling like a woman for once and unashamed of what I enjoyed for the first time in my life.