Cheryl was a Hairy Goddess

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Thanks to all who have not only taken the time to read my stories, but have also been so generous with their kind feedback and sharing of their own experiences.

I realize that this is 2011, and the subject of women’s body hair is not all that popular in this era. Because of current fashion and the successful efforts by businesses to make hair on women “disgusting” in order to sell merchandise, there is a whole generation of people who find even the mention of the subject appalling, not to mention the actual presence of it on a woman’s form.

So my stories are not for everyone, to be sure, and I really do thank those readers who simply bail out on my stories once they find out the subject matter, and don’t make sarcastic comments. I appreciate that.

For the other readers, and since you’re still reading that must mean you, thank you for your support.


This is one man’s story…

Her name was Cheryl, and she was the kid sister of one of my best friends. Because of that, I felt obligated to make fun of her just like her brother did, and that’s something I deeply regretted doing. I did manage to actually make the apology to the girl herself eventually, in the cellar of my house one rainy afternoon.

How we ended up down there is a long story.

For much of my teenage years, I was an overweight kid with acne who sweat a lot and was socially awkward. I liked girls – a lot – but the feeling wasn’t mutual. Everybody loves a fat man is an old saying, but it didn’t apply to me, at least when it came to girls.

Ironically, the only girl who treated me nicely was my best friend’s sister Cheryl, and while I liked her, the fact was that I couldn’t do anything but ignore her. If I had shown the slightest interest, her brother would have made my life even more of a living hell than it was already.

That wasn’t the only reason I ignored Cheryl however. Her parents ruled their roost with an iron fist, and while the mother was a mean and nasty lady in her own right, she was a saint compared to her husband, who was a certifiable lunatic in my eyes.

I never saw my friend’s father do anything to Cheryl, but if I had a buck for every time I heard my friend or his brothers get screamed at, smacked upside the head or get a boot right in the ass with those steel-toed work shoes his old man always wore, I’d be a rich man today. He was about as strict a parent as you can get and not end up in a jail or an asylum. Apparently the guy never heard of Dr. Spock. My friend and his brothers were all terrified of him, and that said something because my friend was usually fearless.

So the idea of trying to get close to Cheryl was out of the question. She wasn’t allowed to date at all, or so I had heard, and she was only permitted to go to school and then come home and help her mother. That was it. An occasional trip to the neighborhood store, and once in a while she would be on the rusting swing set in the back yard when I would visit my friend. That was her social life so far as I knew.

As her brother confided to me once, Cheryl’s mother didn’t allow her to shave her underarms, and this was before there was such a thing as hippies. Apparently her mother was of the opinion that shaving makes the hair grow back thicker and heavier.

It was an old wives’ tale, but since Cheryl’s mother was an old wife, I guess it figured. After Cheryl’s brother told me that, I kept my eyes peeled for a sighting of her armpit hair, because that was something that really turned me on, ever since I had uncovered a little collection of dirty pictures that my old man thought he had hidden.

Seeing those old pictures of women with hair under their arms really made an impression on me, so I knew that seeing the real thing would really be something. Unfortunately, Cheryl never wore sleeveless tops, probably because she was self-conscious about it.

I did get a peek up her t-shirt sleeve once when we were hanging out around her swing set, and while it wasn’t much of a look, I saw enough to confirm what her brother had said. I blurted out that I thought she looked sexy, but then her brother reappeared and I didn’t want him to know that I was interested in his sister, so I just took off with him and never made a move on her again.

That was also the extent of the interplay between Cheryl and myself. We talked from time to time, but I never did what I wanted to do, which was to be with her. Not necessarily for sex, mind you, but I would have loved to have explored those incredible underarms with my hands and lips, or at least gotten a good look.

Never happened. I kept my eye on my friend’s sister, who never got any taller than the 4’10” or so she was that day. She got picked on mercilessly for her lack of height, but I guess the hair under her arms stayed hidden from the rest of the world or else she would have been drilled over that too, I’m sure.

I’m reasonably sure that Cheryl never wore a sleeveless top all through her school years, and she never wore a short sleeved blouse casino şirketleri with baggy sleeves again either, or else I would have noticed. Like I said, I kept an eye on her, but like I also said, I never acted on it, until that day in June of 1972.


I had just finished my second year of college and was working at the neighborhood grocery store when I saw Cheryl come into the store and head for the back. It wasn’t common for her to stop in and get a soda like the rest of the kids did, but whenever she did come in she would flirt a little with me.

Her brother – my friend – was in the Air Force by then, while I still had long hair and a sarcastic sense of humor. I had lost some weight though, so instead of being a fat bastard I was merely a husky one.

When Cheryl came up to the register with a six pack of Colt 45 and asked for a pack of Old Golds, I laughed. Kids tried to buy beer and smokes all the time, but while the cigarette purchases back then were usually allowed when kids would say they were for the parents, beer was a no-no.

“C’mon Cheryl,” I said with a laugh. “I can’t do that. You know better.”

Cheryl reached into her little purse and pulled out a folded piece of paper, handing it to me with a smile.

“Cheryl Marie Panetta is 18?” I said in disbelief as I looked at her birth certificate. “Today?”


She was so little that it didn’t seem possible. After all, the last time I saw her she was just a kid. A kid that had just graduated high school, she informed me, and as I did the math in my head in all made sense. Time flies all right, and with her brother gone and in the service I rarely saw Cheryl any more.

She looked the same, I noticed as I checked out her groceries while checking her out as well. Small breasts that thrust out proudly, and smoky eyes along with jet black hair. Unfortunately, even though it was a warm day the blouse she was wearing had sleeves.

“So you’re going to go home and smoke and drink to celebrate?” I asked.

“Omigod no,” Cheryl said with a look of horror. “Guess I’ll end up going back in the woods or something. Don’t even know why I’m doing this. Just wanted to celebrate.”

“Really? If you are still in the mood later, I get off in an hour,” I suggested. “I could keep you company, if you wanted any that is.”

“Yeah!” Cheryl replied, with a level of enthusiasm that excited me. “That would be cool.”

I told her about this place where a lot of us used to gather to drink, since Cheryl sure wasn’t one to have ever ended up there by herself. She found the place, because when I got back there with a six-pack of my own, she was sitting on the stump of the tree with her second beer in her hand.

“Happy birthday!” I proclaimed, and we tapped our cans together and began to celebrate.

The cigarettes had been abandoned, since the first one she lit up made her dizzy.

“You mean you never even tried one before?” I asked after refusing the offer of the pack, having quit that habit before I ever got hooked. “Not even one?”

It was true. Apparently Cheryl had been so terrified of getting caught that she never so much as took a puff, or a drink or maybe anything else for that matter.

“You know, Jimmy,” Cheryl said in between sips of beer. “I always had a crush on you.”

“You did?” I asked. “Shows how dumb I am, because I never noticed.”

“I was just a goofy kid, so I don’t blame you.”

“And now you’re all grown up,” I said.

“Not really,” Cheryl frowned. “Still a shrimp.”

“Better than being a big doofus,” I answered.

“You probably don’t remember this,” Cheryl began, and then proceeded to start telling me about that day back at the swings.

I was floored. She remembered that day as well as I had, but I was so taken back that when she finished I started to pretend I didn’t recall it at all.

“Nobody had ever told me I was sexy before that,” Cheryl explained, adding “or after that either.”

“I thought I had been hearing things, but I got real excited because I thought you might like me,” Cheryl said. “I always hoped you would ask me out or something, but you never did.”

“Wait a minute,” I said, realizing how stupid I was being. “When I said I didn’t remember that, I was lying. I remember it like it was yesterday.”

“Really?” Cheryl said excitedly. “After that day, I was always hoping you would want to – you know – mess around with me.”

“I would have, but I figured that even if Booby didn’t make fun of me unmercifully for admitting I liked you, I was sure your father would kill me if I did,” I explained. “Him or your other brothers. They’re all kind of protective about you, and I thought you weren’t allowed to go on dates.”

“No, not a date or anything, but we could have just messed around,” Cheryl said as the skies darkened around us and thunder rumbled in the distance. “Snuck into the woods or something.”

“You mean, like this?” I asked, leaning over and kissing her while cursing myself for being casino firmaları so dumb all those years.

Cheryl may have been kept under wraps, and was an awkward kisser, but she learned fast and we were really going at it when the first drops of rain started to fall.

“This was getting fun,” Cheryl said as we realized we were not in a very sheltered place for a thunderstorm.

“Wanna go to my house?” I asked, and Cheryl agreed, so with our bags of beer we made a run for my house.

By the time we got there, we were drenched. My mother was home, so I brought Cheryl around the back and into the cellar, where I had a section of it all my own with mats and a set of weights.

“My mother never comes down here,” I explained as I looked at Cheryl’s blouse, which was pasted to her skin.

“I’m freezing,” Cheryl explained, and I already knew that because I could see her nipples poking through the bra and blouse.

“Why don’t you take off your blouse?” I suggested as I looked around the washing machine for a towel. “I promise I won’t look.”

“What fun would that be then?” Cheryl said with a giggle, the second beer having made her a little silly.

“Okay. If you take off your blouse I promise to look,” I said, and as I spoke Cheryl peeled the wet blouse up and over her head.

My eyes were fixed you-know-where, and while she had the blouse off quickly, the glimpse I got told me that she still didn’t shave her armpits. I smiled when I saw that even with her skinny arms at her side, there were black hairs peeking out of the fold of her arm.

Cheryl saw me staring at her, and then saw what I what I was looking at and made a face as I held a towel in my hands.

“Your mother still doesn’t let you shave?”

“How did you know about that?” Cheryl asked, and then realized who my source was and shook her head. “Bobby’s an asshole.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think my mother much cares about that anymore. I’m so used to the hair being there that I think I must like it. If I went to the senior prom I would have shaved them no matter what,” Cheryl replied with a shrug. “Nobody asked me though.”

“I wish I had asked you,” I answered. “With your brother in the service I hardly ever see you anymore. Wish I had thought about it. I never went to my prom either.”

“I know. I was hoping you would have asked me to that too,” Cheryl said.

“Shows what an idiot I am,” I said. “I’m not very good with girls.”

“You were good that day back at the swings.”

“I can’t believe you still remember that day as well as I do,” I told her.

“Like I said, I had a real crush on you.”

“I could have gone to my prom,” I lamented. “I always said I didn’t care about stupid things like that, but I did.”

“Me too.”

“And you wouldn’t have had to shave either,” I blurted out.

“Can you imagine that?” Cheryl giggled. “We would have been laughed out of the place. Picture me in a gown looking like this!”

With that, little Cheryl, dripping wet in jeans and a soggy bra, lifted her arms and posed like a movie star with her hands behind her head. At that moment, that day back at the swings became the second most erotic moment of my life.

“Don’t,” I said when Cheryl started to lower her arms. “Stay like that for a minute.”

Surprisingly, Cheryl did as I asked, and I was treated to the unobstructed sight of Cheryl’s armpits. To say that I was aroused would be a grand understatement.

“Let me,” I said, taking the towel and bringing it over to her right armpit, and as I rubbed the cotton into the thick matted hair I thought I was going to cream in my jeans.

“I’m really hairy, huh?” Cheryl asked, making a face as I fluffed up the black fur. “Do you like that?”

I nodded as I prayed my knees would hold me up. The jet black hair filled the tiny recess of Cheryl’s armpit to overflowing, and after I finished drying it I let my fingers slide through the dense jungle.

“You must think I’m weird,” I said as my fingernails raked through the thick tuft of hair.

“I dunno. Guess I’m weird too because that feels nice,” Cheryl said as she leaned toward me and closed her eyes. “Feels good not to have to hide it too.”

I went to her left armpit, where the thick mat of hair was still pasted to her skin, and as I toweled that one dry too I noticed Cheryl looking down at my crotch, where my erection was painfully obvious.

“Is your dick hard?” Cheryl asked, and after I nodded she asked if she could see it.

“Only saw one hard before,” Cheryl admitted, which was one more than I would have guessed, and when I asked her whose she had seen, she giggled and said it was her brother, my friend.

“Saw him in bed once with a Playboy in one hand and his dick in the other,” Cheryl explained, which made me laugh. “I really would like to see yours, though, Jimmy.”

I was going to try and pull it out of the fly of my zipper, but I was so stiff and excited that I was afraid it would snap in two or ejaculate in the process güvenilir casino of extracting it, so instead I just unbuckled my belt and dropped my jeans.

My underwear were dripping with pre-cum, which Cheryl might have thought was from me peeing my pants, but she seemed too fascinated by the bulge in my briefs to care. I carefully pulled them down around my erection, which gratefully bounced around after being freed from confinement.

“Wow!” Cheryl said, stepping back a bit as my very angry boner swayed in front of me. “Yours is way bigger than Bobby’s.”

Never having seen her brother with a hard-on, I wouldn’t have known about that, but I enjoyed hearing her say it, and the look of awe was even better. Since it wasn’t all THAT big, she obviously hadn’t really seen any others.

“Can I touch it?” Cheryl asked.

“I’m really excited,” I said, nodding as I looked at my cock, which was beet red and angry looking, with every vein bulging and pre-cum dripping out of the tip. “Stand over here.”

I positioned Cheryl so she was at my side, and I put my arm around her shoulder as she reached for my dick, working my hand under her arm as she did. The feel of her soft pit hair against my fingers drove me wild.

“Your dick feels hot,” Cheryl said as her tiny hand gripped the shaft. “Is this how you do it?”

I don’t think Cheryl’s hand even made one stroke before I knew this wasn’t going to last long. Her hand only moved up and down a few times before I cried out. Jets of cum spurted – and I do mean spurted – flying out several feet in front of us. Cheryl was giggling but thankfully kept holding my dick as it spewed forth volley after volley of cum all over the cellar floor.

My knees were like jelly as I savored the orgasm Cheryl’s little hand had given me, and as my dick deflated in her grasp I leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

“Can I take the rest of your clothes off?” I asked, and after Cheryl nodded I reached behind her and unhooked her bra, exposing a nice pair of titties, which weren’t big but stuck out proudly with rather large nipples.

“Wish they were bigger,” Cheryl lamented.

“They’re beautiful like they are,” I assured her, and when I cupped them and gave them a gentle kneading, Cheryl’s chest started heaving wildly.

I knelt down before her, and because she was so short I was able to suck on her titties while undoing her jeans. Her bell bottoms were soggy, which made peeling them off her a bit of a challenge.

Right away I saw a streak of black hairs that grew from just under her belly button down to where there seemed to be a whole lot of hair under her damp panties. I could smell her pussy as she lifted her leg to let me get her jeans off, and when I reached up and pulled those white panties down, I was facing the hairiest pussy I had ever seen, even more profusely hairy than the women in those pictures my old man had.

Not that I had seen all that many of them, but Cheryl’s bush was dense and fanned out wide, the triangle so thick that I couldn’t make out her opening. The hairs had a springy feeling when I touched it, and as I held Cheryl’s hips I leaned forward and kissed the wild jungle.

“I’m hairier down there than other girls, aren’t I Jimmy?” Cheryl asked me. “Sometimes I used to peek when we changed for gym class, and most of them don’t have hair that sticks out from the sides of their panties.”

“I guess you are,” I said. “Haven’t seen that many myself, but you’re really sexy.”

We ended up on the mat, next to my barbells, and as I spread Cheryl’s petite thighs I saw that the hair grew way down between her legs. She was wet, the hair even darker around her opening, and when my tongue found her fold she squealed loudly.

“Ssh,” I reminded Cheryl before diving back down and lapping crudely and hungrily at her sex, the scent of her pussy sending tingles down my spine.

Soon Cheryl was pulling at my scalp, and I was half out of my mind with lust. My cock was hard again already, and without thinking I sprang up to my knees and put my erection inside of her.

She was incredibly tight, so the stunned look on her face was probably part from pain and the rest was surprise. It wasn’t something I planned, and I was an idiot for not putting on a rubber. After all, I’d had one in my wallet for a long time, and here I was putting my dripping dick inside of Cheryl.

At that moment, however, it didn’t matter to me, or her. I humped Cheryl furiously, and when she came she bit into my neck hard, the pain hardly registering on me.

“Here,” I said, pulling her arms up over her head and having her grip the barbell behind her.

I was in heaven. Cheryl, naked and on her back, her little titties thrusting upward and those profusely hairy armpits fully exposed for my viewing pleasure, became the new standard for eroticism for my entire life.

I fought the urge to cum for as long as I could, but when it got too much I pulled my cock out of her steaming hot pussy just before I came, sending jets of cum all over her stomach and bush.

“Sorry,” I said when the reality of what we had just done hit me. The two of us had just lost our viginity together.

“I’m not sorry,” Cheryl said with a giggle. “Let’s do it again.”

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