My Best Friend’s Hairy Mom

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When the drizzle we had been standing in began to turn to something more substantial, the trees that had been sheltering us began to let in some of the rain, and that was just as good a reason to end this “party” I had been having with my best friend Jeff.

We had been celebrating a couple of things, the most important as far as I was concerned being my 18th birthday. The other, more sobering event was my friend getting ready to go off to college. While I was stuck going to a local school, Jeff was headed halfway across the country, and for the first time in my memory he wouldn’t be around.

A story about real people back in the early 70’s. Those looking for stories about well hung studs and ravishing women will probably not like this story. Jimmy and Rose were flawed in different ways, but only in their own eyes.


I loved the guy like a brother, but there were times when he pissed me off, and this was one of those times. We had been drinking in the woods, pounding down quarts of Utica Club beer, a brew whose sole redeeming quality was that it was cheap, and while we drank we were rattling off local girls that we always wanted to have sex with.

The list was long, and included many girls who wouldn’t even give us the time of day. Jeff, who wasn’t really able to drink much before getting wasted, had brought my older sister’s name up, and while I didn’t care that he had the hots for her, I figured that it was safe to bring up a relative of his. Jeff’s Mom.

He thought this was hilarious for some reason, and that pissed me off. Part of my anger was due to the odd way he thought of his mother a lot of the time. His father had taken off with another woman, leaving his mother with the dual role of mother and father, and while Jeff hardly even saw the guy, he never said a bad word about him, but for some reason he resented his Mom.

“If you ever saw her naked, you would never get a boner again for as long as you live,” Jeff slurred, and then he proceeded to tell me about the time he saw her naked, peeking at her after she got out of the shower. “No wonder my Dad dumped her.”

He then explained that his father’s new woman had great tits, unlike his mother, who he claimed had little boobs that sagged like fried eggs, and then got under my skin by mentioning that his mother didn’t shave her underarms.

“She’s got more hair under her arms than I do,” Jeff declared as he lost his balance and almost fell on his face, something I was hoping for and made no effort to stop.

“I think that’s sexy,” I said, “and I think your Mom is too. I would rather make love to her than anybody else we’ve mentioned.”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Jeff said, and while I thought he was just making another commentary on my taste in women, he proved he wasn’t kidding when he threw up the quart and a half of Utica Club he had consumed.

“Serves you right,” I said, and while I knew I was going to miss Jeff a lot after he left town, this sure wasn’t one of those times.

“When you fuck her, bring a hedge clipper with you so you can find her pussy,” Jeff said to the tree that was holding him up. “Like a freaking jungle down there.”

“I’ll help you home,” I said.

“Still got more beer, don’t we?” Jeff said as he looked into the paper bag.

“There’s a quart left but you threw up in the bag,” I informed him.

“It’s still good,” Jeff said. “Not open.”

“Not interested,” I said as I tried to get Jeff to walk the trail out of the little patch of woods we were in and safely to his house, and while it was like trying to herd a cat, we made it.

We made a noisy entrance into the Henry’s kitchen, and when Rose Henry saw Jeff’s condition she rolled her eyes.

“What will he do without you, Jimmy?” Mrs. Henry asked.

“I’ll help him get to bed,” I said.

“Jimbo thinks you’re sexy, Ma,” Jeff announced while I tried to get him out of the kitchen before I killed him. “He likes your hairy armpits.”

I didn’t know Jeff’s mother’s reaction to that revelation because I was herding Jeff away from her, but I know how embarrassed I was. After Jeff told me he didn’t have to go to the bathroom, I got him into his bedroom, helped him get his gross jeans off and threw him on the bed after I told him I hated his guts, only half-kidding.

I stopped in the bathroom to wash my hands, trying to summon enough courage to walk past Jeff’s mother because it was one thing to have a crush on somebody, but when it gets announced that’s something else all together.

The part about Jeff telling her that I liked the fact that she didn’t shave her underarms didn’t bother me as much, although she might wonder how I knew, since I don’t remember her ever wearing anything sleeveless.

The only peeks I got were glimpses when I would look under her sleeve when she would reach up for something or run her hand through her hair, but that would really freak her out if she knew I was that weird.

This was 1973 mind you, and forty years ago it wasn’t all that uncommon to see sivas escort a natural woman, but it was mostly hippie girls, and Rose Henry was not a hippie. Rose was just a tiny, worn-out middle-aged woman who was alone and figured nobody ever gave her more than a passing glance, but she was wrong about that.

Taking a deep breath, I went out to the kitchen, and Rose was there, standing next to the table with her hands clutching her elbows. She looked frightened, almost like she thought I was going to attack her, and I apologized about the condition her son was in.

“How come you never get like that?” Rose asked.

“I have, once at least,” I said. “Now that I’m 18 I can get my own beer, so maybe I’ll get like that more often.”

“Oh, that’s right. It’s your birthday!” Rose said, and took a step toward me and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

“Yeah, that was our excuse to drink tonight,” I said, although for most of the summer nights we had been back in the woods drinking after work, since before today I couldn’t get served at bars.

“Still, even though he’s a couple of months older than you, you’ve always been more mature,” Rose said while ruffling the back of her hair that she wore in a shag of sorts, and I made a conscious effort to not look up her short sleeve as she did.

“Well, I guess I better get going,” I said, realizing that this would probably one of the last times I would be around Mrs. Henry because Jeff would be away, and I knew our friendship would never be the same.

I was hoping Mrs. Henry would tell me to stay, or maybe invite me to her bedroom, but those things never happen in real life so I went to the door. I stopped as I looked out at the rain, and refused Mrs. Henry’s offer of an umbrella.

“Uh – that stuff that Jeff said before?” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “He was being a wise guy – he gets goofy when he’s drunk.”

“Oh. I know,” Rose Henry said, giving me a sad little smile as I left. “It’s okay.”

As I headed home, I thought about Jeff’s mother and her reaction when I dismissed what her son had said as being just a drunk babbling. It was almost like she was disappointed, and that I was trying to tell her that I didn’t feel that way at all about her.

Too late now, I thought.


It was about three weeks later. I was just starting school, and while Rose Henry was never far from my mind, with Jeff away at college I had no real reason to go over to his house. After that last humiliation, that was probably just as well.

So when the phone rang one Thursday evening, when my Mom told me that the call was for me, the last thing I expected my Mom to say as she handed me the phone was, “It’s Mrs. Henry. Hope nothing happened to Jeff.”

Nothing had happened to Jeff, and as Mrs. Henry spoke just the sound of made my heart flutter. Jeff was fine, she said, but she had just gotten some mail to me from Jeff and wanted to know if I would like to come over and get it.

“Can I come over now?” I asked, and when Mrs. Henry said that would be great, I was already halfway out the door.

“Haven’t seen you in almost a month,” Rose said when she answered my knock at her door. “That’s a record.”

“Guess I used to get underfoot a lot,” I said in apologizing.

“No, I was glad that he had a friend like you,” Mrs. Henry said, giving me a smile that always brightened my mood, and as she smiled I realized that she was wearing a little lipstick, “You were a good influence on him, especially compared to some of the other boys around here.”

I shrugged and acted embarrassed, and as she led me over to the kitchen table I looked at her cute rear-end, and only wished she wasn’t wearing a sweater.

What Jeff had sent me was a program from his college’s football game, and while it wasn’t anything all that thrilling, it gave me an opportunity to hang around Mrs. Henry, and it also gave her an opportunity to say something.

“You don’t have to call me Mrs. Henry. you know,” she said. “You’re a man now, and besides, that makes me feel even older than I am. Call me Rose.”

“Okay Rose,” I said, and after thanking her for passing the program on to me, told her I would see her again.

“Do you have to go so soon?” Rose Henry asked, putting her hand on my arm. “I mean – unless you have early classes tomorrow.”

“No, nothing until noon.”

“I bought some beer,” Rose said, going to the refrigerator and showing me that she had gotten three quarts of Utica Club. “I don’t know much about beer. This is the kind you fellows drink, isn’t it?”

“Sure,” I replied, and when she suggested we could have a few drinks while I told her about how school was, even Utica Club sounded good.

Although I was doing most of the drinking, Rose Henry was feeling it, acting all giggly, and when we finished the first quart she got up to get another one.

“Don’t know how you boys drink this stuff,” Rose said as she came back to the table.

I was leafing through the football program as she came back to the table, but when I looked up Rose had set the quart of beer down and was unbuttoning her sweater.

“Is it hot in here or is it me?” Rose asked.

“Maybe it’s the… beer,” I said, my words catching as I watched her take off the sweater, and even though Rose had to see me staring, there was no chance I could look away.

A better answer would have been to say that Rose herself was hot. What Rose Henry was wearing under the sweater was a pink blouse, a tank-top, and it was obvious the wasn’t wearing a bra. The way her nipples were pressing out against the pink cotton made that clear, and it was also plain to see that while the breasts they sat on may not have been big, her nipples sure were.

This was so unlike Mrs. Henry that it set me back on my heels, because she was not one that dressed provocatively at all. The little peeks I had gotten up until then were just brief glimpses down the top of a blouse or under a loose sleeve, and I know she had never gone bra-less because I would have noticed.

“Lonely without Jeff around here,” Mrs. Henry said. “He drove me crazy half of the time but it sure is quiet without him.”

As she spoke, Mrs. Henry lifted her arm, hesitantly at first before reaching up and running her hand through her hair, pulling it back behind her ear, and as she did it was clear what she was doing.

“You can look if you want, Jimmy,” Rose Henry said with a voice that did not hide her nervousness, her having noticed that despite me wanting to stare in the worst way, I had averted my eyes. “It’s okay, I mean, I want you to look – if you want to.”

“Don’t have much to interest men these days,” she added, blushing as she exposed her right armpit, affording me the first unfettered look at the thick tuft of dark brown hair that filled the hollow to overflowing.

It was an selfless act, having taken a chance that her son wasn’t just being a wise guy when he blurted out what I told him about one of things I found attractive about her. I wanted to say something but despite the beer, words didn’t come at first.

“Sorry,” Rose said as she lowered her arm and put her elbow back on the table. “Didn’t mean to make a fool of myself.”

“Didn’t,” I finally managed to say, and while I had tried to say you didn’t, the first word was unintelligible. “I think you’re beautiful – all of you.”

Yet I couldn’t move. The woman that I was so infatuated with for as long as I could remember was so close that I could touch her, and what was even more astounding was that not only was she flirting with me but was making it clear that she brought me over here for that very thing, and there I sat. Talk about an awkward silence.

I had made a fool of myself more than once with girls, and those memories, along with my insecurities, were combining to make what should have been a dream come true turn into a nightmare.

“I’m – I’m a virgin,” I blurted out for some reason, although by the way I was sweating and twitching that was probably no surprise to her, but still and all, those days it wasn’t easy to stay a virgin for 18 years and it wasn’t anything I was proud of. “I’ve never really done anything – you know.”

“Oh,” Rose said. “No, I didn’t know. You always seemed so – I don’t know. Being so handsome and all, I figured you for a ladies man. Jeff always…”

Mrs. Henry’s voice faded at that, and while I didn’t doubt that Jeff might have considered me a ladies man, it might have been only because he was even more lame than I was. That, and the fact that I lied a lot about the girls I had actually dated.

I don’t know how many of them I claimed to have had sex with when talking to Jeff, or had done way better that I had claimed when talking to Jeff, but the fact was that it was all lies. Only two girls had even touched my dick, and 50% of them laughed when they saw what they were holding. Maybe not laughed, but a giggle isn’t much better. I obviously didn’t tell him about that.

“If you want to leave, don’t feel you have to stay,” Rose Henry was saying. “I mean, we don’t have to do do anything, if you just want to talk.”

That was how I found myself on the couch in Rose Henry’s living room, sitting next to my fantasy woman while I bared my soul. She didn’t get what her son got, she got the truth. I left out nothing about my insecurities and inadequacies, especially my physical ones, and she just listened in silence until I was finished.

“I think you’re sweet,” Rose Henry said after I had run out of words. “There’s nothing wrong with being nervous, or scared, and I suspect that the other thing that bothers you – well, women don’t care about things like that. Some women might, but most girls just want to be with someone that cares about them and treats them right. All the other superficial things don’t mean that much.

“What Jeff told you,” I mumbled, worrying that she though my interest in her fit that description. “About the hair, I mean. I said it but there’s a whole lot of other things that I love about you. Like listening to me babble like this. You’re patient and never judgemental.”

“We all need a friend. Somebody we can lean on,” Rose explained as she held my hand, ignoring how sweaty it was. “That’s why I asked you to come over. I haven’t got many friends, and men – well, let’s just say that my days of attracting men are long past.”

“Don’t say that,” I said, but Rose shook her head and continued.

“I know. You like me…”

“Love you,” I corrected.

“You have a crush on me,” Rose said. “I’m flattered, but look at me.”

“I have,” I said, and all I saw was a sweet woman who might have been showing some signs of her age, but I didn’t care that she wasn’t voluptuous, didn’t dress fancy and never wore a lot of make-up, all I knew was that I was crazy about her.

“See how small my breasts are?” Rose said. “Without a bra they practically disappear – here. Feel.”

Rose leaned back and as she did she put my hand on her right breast, and as she pressed it down she said, “See what I mean?”

I kneaded Mrs. Henry’s breast through the thin fabric of the pink blouse, and while the soft flesh didn’t even fill my hand it felt great to me. Her nipple was now hard in my palm, and as sweat poured down the sides of my face she asked me if I wanted her to take her blouse off.

I nodded and then took my hand off of her chest so she could lift it off, and as she did I didn’t care what other guys found attractive. In the dim light my eyes took in everything; the rib cage that became visible as the blouse came up, her breasts, in a way resembling the fried eggs Jeff had mentioned, small and with a bit of sag to them; her large nipples centered on plump aureoles that took up much of the surface of the orbs, and those wild sprays of dark brown hair that filled her armpits.

I leaned over and kissed her breasts, lavishing all the love I had on the little morsels. I imagine I looked crude as I slobbered all over her tits, but Rose didn’t seem to care, and even ran her hands through my scalp as I suckled on her like a child.

“That feels so nice,” Rose Henry sighed. “See, you’re nothing like you see yourself. You’re making me feel so good.”

Rose didn’t even blink when, as I sucked and licked every pore of her breasts, my thumb strayed under her upraised arm, even sighing when I stroked the thick tuft of hair, finding it just as soft as I had dreamed.

I would have been in heaven if I could have just sat there on the couch and kept sucking and stroking, but maybe my amateurish attempts as arousing Mrs. Henry were working. Whatever the reason, when I felt Mrs. Henry’s hand on my thigh and sliding toward my crotch reality set in.

“It’s alright, Jimmy,” Mrs. Henry said as I recoiled from her touch, my erection which seemed ready to erupt at any second withering when Rose’s hand landed on the bulge, and as she struggled to find it through my clothes, she kept telling me that everything was going to be okay.

“Let me take your shirt off,” Rose said, and like a little kid I lifted my arms and let her lift the t-shirt over my head, and then as she rubbed my scrawny hairless chest she cooed, “Nice to feel a man again. So nice.”

“Here – let me get these off,” Rose Henry was saying, standing up quickly to pull off her own slacks.

I got a brief glimpse of the hairs peeking out of the sides of her panties before she pulled them down quickly, revealing a dark brown bush that formed an enormous triangle on her petite frame.

‘You did say you liked hair,” Rose said shyly as I stared at the first pussy I had even seen in the flesh. “Guess I should at least trim it but…”

I shook my head as Rose was moving, her hands coming to undo my belt, and for a minute I might have even tried to fend her off, such was my dread at what was going to happen. Rose Henry’s hands were undoing my jeans and she was pulling them down, leaving me only with socks and underwear on, and as she pulled my jeans off my ankles the socks came off.

I was less embarrassed about the large stain in the front of my tight whiteys than I was about what had been drooling to cause it, but now Rose was kissing me, leaning me against the back of the sofa and necking up a storm. So passionate was she that I got caught up in it, and as our tongues dueled I realized that Mrs. Henry had found my dick.

“Ssh,” Rose was saying as she slithered down to her knees on the carpet, and then her hands were on the elastic of my underwear while I strained to bring some life to what she was exposing, looking at her expression all the time.

She didn’t laugh or even blink as she got my underwear off my ankles and spread my legs apart. My dick had never looked sadder to me, a pathetic limp tube that fear had reduced to the size of a little link sausage, but Mrs. Henry just reached down and lifted it off my balls, which were the only thing manly down there.

Looking up at me, she leaned down and flicked her tongue around the olive-sized head while holding the stem with her thumb and index finger before opening her mouth. She inhaled the toadstool effortlessly, and as Mrs. Henry sucked while pulling it upwards with her lips, I strained to get hard.

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