Arabella was tall, Giselle short. Giselle had fine straight hair, long, of reddish gold. Arabella’s hair curled in thick ringlets of golden red.

After kissing each other goodnight, they slept in each other’s arms, as close as close could be.

“Did you sleep well?” Arabelle asked Giselle between wake-up kisses. “Did you have good dreams?”

“Sweaters,” Giselle said. “I had a dream of sweaters. They were so soft, so wonderful. They were made of pussy hair. Mine was made of your pussy hair, and yours was made of my pussy hair.”

“I love that dream,” Arabella said. “I love your pussy hair.”

“But we’re both bare,” Giselle said. “What do you think it means?”

Arabella thought for a moment. “I think what it means,” she said, “is that we should grow out our pussy hair. Either that or we should go shopping.”

Arabelle and Giselle think there’s nothing better
Than pubic hair that’s knitted into a sweater.
But as both their pussies
Are as bald as can be,
They’d just go shopping in the all-together.

At least, that’s what their dreams were about:
They’d walk into the mall wearing nought.
Then they’d each buy a sweater
While their pussies grew wetter.
Then they’d kiss, finger-fuck and make out.

Poem by Ashley
Story and Illustrations by Mat