Chapter 2: Hirsute honey humps happily

I met Hanna in the woods behind my place. I was hunting rabbit and so was she. There were some big differences. I had a 22 while she was using a long bow. And she was wearing only jeans and boots. Big naked tits were just wobbling when she moved.

I tried to keep looking at her face as she introduced herself.

She smiled and said, “Don’t worry. It’s natural for guys to stare at them. I’m pleased you find me attractive. You’re good looking too, so I’d like to see more of you sometime.”

That might have been a double entendre. I wasn’t sure. In the hope that it was, I kept talking. She lived about a mile away on the other side of this woods.

I’d shot two rabbits and she had none. She spoke up, “Hey, how about I cook those two up for dinner tonight at my place?” I agreed so she gave me directions. It was the old Smith place. She’d inherited it a few months earlier.

I arrived right on time, all bathed and everything, carrying both beer and wine, not knowing her preference.

They almost got dropped when she answered the door. Not only were those big tits staring at me, but everything else was on display too. She hugged me after taking my beverages. I almost creamed my pants.

During an excellent dinner I learned a lot more. She believed in natural living, so clothes were worn only if absolutely necessary. Hence the protective jeans and boots in the woods. The hair on her head hadn’t been cut in years and hung to her attractive buns. Nor her armpits or pubes or legs seen a razor in a long time. She even had a few hairs growing out of her areolae. All of it was black and abundant.

She loved the farm. Her life had evolved away from all things artificial over the past five years so getting out of the city was a major step in that direction.

Her gardening skills were impressive as was apparent when she showed me what she lived on. She used her urine as a liquid fertilizer and composted food scraps and feces to improve the soil. It was explained how natural and not nasty it was if done properly.

Meat or fish was a small part of her diet when it could be caught, never bought. Tonight’s dinner was a treat for her too.

As we had another glass of wine after the tour, she asked if I would be comfortable being nude as well. I was a little reluctant. She put a hand on my arm and said, “If you are concerned about a natural male reaction to a naked woman, don’t be. I’d be flattered.”

I did react and she complimented me for being uncircumcised. I noticed that she became more relaxed around me and I caught glimpses of pink tissue in her crotch forest. There also seemed to be some glistening wetness. Hmmm.

Well, that question got answered rather directly. “The only problem I’m having adapting to being here is my sex life. I don’t have much of one. It’s a normal and natural need like many others.

“In the city I’d usually have a few men who liked getting naked with me and enjoying our bodies. A couple of them still visit me out here but not nearly often enough. I haven’t heard you mention a wife or girlfriend or anything else. Are you getting laid?”

I had to admit that it had been quite a while since a girl cousin visited. On questioning I also admitted that she was the only one I’d ever “gotten natural” with.

Hanna smiled, pointedly glancing at my still upraised dick, “Well, I still see one vote for us getting to know each other a lot better. As the saying goes, ‘There is no time like the present’, or ‘An opportunity lost can never be regained’”.

I had to concur.

She made my cousin look like a novice. My God she could fuck. I got more cum pulled out of me than my best jack off sessions ever did. All that hair was actually a stimulus when used the way she did.

As we lay in exhaustion, she spoke quietly, “I could tell how much you enjoyed me. I feel the same way about you. You are a natural, I think.”

We talked long into the night and joined our bodies as often as I could do my part. She wasn’t at all shy about sharing information about herself. I was surprised to learn that she was thirty-five, fifteen years older than me. She had never been married or pregnant, even though indulging in natural sex, i.e. no birth control with the preferred male finale inside her vagina.

She’d had sex frequently since the age of sixteen when a step-father introduced her to it. Much later she learned that the orgasms and the constituents of semen were quite beneficial to her development and well-being. She craved regular doses of each so I was assured of a steady supply of my own releases.

In the morning we ate oatmeal and fruit before I left. When I asked if I could return that night, she kissed me and said that one of her city lovers was arriving for the weekend. She would love to see me Monday though. I hugged her and said I thought I could do that.

My mind was in a whirl and my cock hard all weekend. There was a flood of emotion. I lusted for her. I was jealous of whoever was fucking her right now. I was angry that I wasn’t. I jacked off repeatedly.

I stopped the latter Monday morning because I wanted to be very functional later. I’d show her who was the best cock she could get. I’d out-fuck whoever it was.

With a couple of fish from my freezer and a bottle of the wine she liked, I was a nervous wreck on her doorstep.

“Get naked”, she ordered, “while I put dinner on the table.”

“She was so nonchalant”, I thought glancing at the furry forest between her thighs, “Another cock has been in there all weekend and she acts like nothing happened.” It didn’t occur to me that mine had been there quite a bit, even the morning before whoever he was arrived. How emotions cloud our thoughts!

I was still erect after the vegetarian meal. Hanna smiled and commented, “Looks like your pecker missed me. Let’s make him feel good.”

I practically attacked her as we rolled onto her bed, the one she’d been fucking in all weekend, I briefly thought. I tried to stuff my rampant rod into her hole when she stopped me with two strong arms.

“Whoa there! Mind your manners. It’s at least polite to get me ready. Does your tongue still work?” I looked puzzled until she reached down and spread her fur apart, uncovering her pink lips. “Don’t worry, I cleaned it well,” she said with a grin.

My cousin had taught me the basics and it did get some pleasure noises out of her. Finally, she signaled readiness and I slammed inside. I barely noticed the bemused expression on her face as I pounded for a minute and exploded.

She held me on top of her for a few quiet minutes, then began talking softly. “Did you have a rough weekend?” I nodded. “Did you jack off thinking about me?”

I paused, thinking, “Was she a mind reader or what?” I nodded again, looking away.

She continued in a gentle voice, “When a guy finds out they have to share me, they get angry or horny. I’m so glad you are the latter kind. I keep few secrets so I want to calm your imagination down. This was a much older man that I’ve known for many years. We are more friends than lovers. We had sex twice and it was quite gentle and loving. Nothing like the lusty encounters you and I have had so far. Now that you have refilled your rod, I want you to make me feel good too. Let me show you some things I like.”

“Damn, she’s good,” I was soon thinking. “I feel better inside and out.” The positions and moves she showed me took my mind to just what I was experiencing with her, the way it ought to be. And I told her so.

“I’m so glad you shared that with me. Being open is so much more natural and makes me care for you as a person even more. I will answer any question you put to me honestly and I expect the same from you. BTW, how many times did you jack off? It makes me hot thinking about it. I’d like to watch sometime when we can’t screw.”

I made an estimate and she was pleased that I found her so attractive, hair and all.

I still lived with my parents so my four-wheeler soon made a well-worn path through the woods. We screwed every day, sometimes at lunch and sometimes in the evening. She made me leave after we were sated so we both could get some work done. I did stay over on Saturday night and she did put clothes on when I took her to church. She was a very spiritual person, although her beliefs weren’t like the traditional Christians I was used to.

There was a lot to learn from this interesting woman. Sex had a wider range of expression than I had thought, including the slow sensuous style as well as the furious fucking that I was more used to. She kept coming back to the idea of polyamory as well, something I needed to learn about and get comfortable with if we were to have a long-term relationship. I sure hoped we would.

As the second weekend after her last visitor approached, I was informed that another of her city guys would be there. He was between her age and mine. This was a “stud” who would copulate frequently and furiously even more than me.

She invited me over for Friday lunch before he arrived. As we screwed she asked me to give her a big load of semen. “It helps if I’m lubed. He is big and vigorous.” I shot as much as I could.

In the middle of the afternoon she texted me, “Can you meet me right now behind the chicken house?” I replied I could, very curious.

She was naked on a blanket. It was obvious from the flush on her upper chest that she’d just been fucking. The white cream seeping through her black jungle confirmed it.

“I don’t need foreplay. Just fill me up, “ she ordered in a lust filled voice. We humped like mad. I was feeling the silky wetness on my shaft just like when I went for seconds or thirds, but my mind knew this was really different. I struggled to hold back but she urged, “Shoot yours in me! I want it!”

When I pulled out after a few minutes of being held in her arms after my peak, she told me, “I’d like to see you about six tomorrow night. We’ll talk more then.” I saw her walking back to her house as I rode away, my lust sated for a bit but not my curiosity.

When I arrived, she was naked as usual and clearly had recently been ridden hard. I got a quick kiss and she sat me down with a beer. “My pussy needs a rest. It has been quite busy the last few days with you two horn dogs. I’m not complaining, mind you, just stating a fact. Let’s talk. I think you need that.”

I did, even though my trusty pecker was ready for some more tangible activity.