Are You Hairy Down There Too? Ch. 01

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Did I actually just ask her that?
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The subject of this story is about an older man and a younger woman but please be advised that there is an degree of what some may call fetish involved. Nothing what I consider appalling although if you are concerned the story tags at the end will give you an idea of what to expect.

***

As I looked out of my attic window towards my next door neighbor's yard I kept telling myself that what I was doing was alright because just before most of the Davis family went on vacation Earl Davis had asked me to do just this.

"Keep an eye on the place," he had asked me before he, his wife and eldest daughter had embarked on a trip overseas, and I told him I'd be happy to.

So that's what I was doing up in the attic, although I don't think Earl wanted me to be up there with binoculars in my left hair and my stiff cock in my right while gazing down at his other daughter who was resting on a lounge chair obviously unaware that she was being watched.

We were a lot alike, I thought while sweat poured down the sides of my face, me and Earl's youngest daughter. My late wife had been the outgoing type and on the other side of the fence the other three members of the Davis clan were also that way.

Patty though? She seemed that she was a lot like me. In fact, this was the first time I had ever seen her out in the pool. Her Mom and Dad used it a lot and her older sister Julia seemed to live out there. Patty seemed to be the introvert bookworm type though, and probably spent all of her time hitting the books.

Maybe part of that was because while her older sister seemed to take about her mother as far as appearance goes with her All-American girl look; fair skin, golden brown hair and hourglass figure, Patty looked more like her father in many ways.

Patty had inherited her old man's dark brown hair, in addition to his rather large nose and plain face, and she has a rather androygenous body as well although I suspect she'll probably fill out as she gets older.

Then again, she might be older than I think. As I stroked my cock I tried to do the mental math. My wife would know because she took care of those things for us, but now I was stuck trying to figure out how long I had lived here.

Five years. Five years since we moved into what my wife called our dream house and four years since my wife passed away. One of the last things we did together was go the older girl's high school graduation party which meant Julia had to be 21 or 22.

Patty, the girl I was drooling over had just gone into high school that year so that means that the younger kid must be 18 now. Damn. How time flies. It didn't help that Patty didn't look it, at least in many ways.

Patty seemed to be very small breasted, although the very modest bikini she was wearing wasn't very flattering and she was on her back besides. Patty seemed pretty tall, probably around 5'7" or so but she was very skinny.

So why was I standing in my sweat locker of an attic jerking off like a deranged monkey while leering at my neighbor's daughter, who by most 21st century standards would have guys making wise-cracks along with the fake puking sounds?

Part was loneliness, because despite what my late wife had insisted before she passed, I had no interest in finding somebody else. I was nearing 60 and while I was in decent shape and not all that bad looking, I just didn't have the desire.

I wasn't meant for these times, and maybe when I looked at Patty she reminded me of my youth. The times when the music was good and the women were more natural, instead of the tattoo-riddled foul-mouthed girls that seemed to be in fashion now.

Suddenly I felt very creepy, guilty about what I was doing. What if Melanie was looking down at me right now, I thought as I forced my erection back into my trousers? That was ridiculous, of course, and besides if that were true Melanie would have seen a lot of what I had been doing over the last few years.

I hadn't felt guilty when I had squeezed out the first load about an hour earlier, I lamented as I grabbed the messy tissues that held the drying evidence of my perverted ways before going downstairs to at least change my soggy shirt.

Another productive day, I thought while tossing the tissues away and heading towards the bathroom where I hoped that a shower would cleanse my body if not my mind. A little work and a lot of reflection, although the jacking off while looking at a skinny schoolgirl was a new twist in my otherwise predictable life.

***

This was better. That was what I was thinking as I looked at my neighbor's daughter sitting only about 15 feet from me lounging in that lawn chair and blissfully unaware that the old predator next door was leering at her.

At least being out here kept me from jerking off and not having to look through the blurry window with the binoculars gave me a much clearer view of the gawky teen. My eyesight was still very intact, because as Patty lay there with her hands locked behind her head and her eyes hidden behind sunglasses, I could clearly see the little droplet of sweat trickle down her side from where it began.

Where it began. That was what gave me the most pleasure, when I saw that under Patty's skinny arms grew thick tufts of the richest looking dark brown hair imaginable. Seeing this back in my youth would have been no big deal because there were a lot of natural women who thought nothing of not shaving.

Now though in the 21st century, witnessing such a sight was nearly impossible. Hair was most definitely not in, and girls today seemed to prefer getting elaborate and often garish tattoos to adorn their bodies, permanent body art that they might not like ten years later when they faded with age.

Patty's armpits though? This was body art, as least as far as I was concerned, and when I looked at Patty I couldn't help thinking up my late wife Melanie and how she put up with my wishes. Every Labor Day she would stop shaving her armpits and let the hair grow until around Memorial Day when she would start shaving again for the summer.

Melanie was prettier and while she was slender like Patty she had a slightly more womanly build on her, so the real resemblance ended with the underarm hair from what I had seen so far. Still, the sight of natural Patty brought back pleasant memories and I even had to chuckle when I recalled how Melanie used to think that she was a rather hairy woman. Too bad she couldn't see Patty out here, because this young lady was far furrier than she had been back then.

"Hi Mr. Domino."

So deep in thought and reflection was I, along with being obsessed watching that serpentine droplet of sweat meander out of the jungle of armpit hair, that hearing the voice stunned me.

I didn't really recognize the voice but it had to be Patty because there was nobody else anywhere near us. Yet Patty remained exactly as she was, reclining and looking like she was dozing.

"Uh, hello Patty," I replied, and only then did Patty move, reaching down to tip her sunglasses up on her forehead before putting her hand back behind her head.

"Don't see you in your yard much anymore," Patty said as I tried to continue making eye contact despite my shame at being caught being a voyeur.

"No, not much reason to," I replied. "You aren't back her much either usually."

"I was out here yesterday, Mr. Domino," Patty said in a matter-of-fact manner. "Remember?"

As she said that last word Patty did a nod with her head, over and upwards in the general direction of my attic. I looked up at the dingy attic window, and as I did I felt my stomach do a flip.

"Uh."

I said that and it came out as a long moan while I tried to figure out something to say. I was tempted to say that I was up there looking because her father wanted me to keep an eye on the place but it was just as well I didn't.

"There was a glint that flashed when the sun would hit your binoculars," Patty explained, making my humiliation complete as I was being made a fool of my this kid, and the problem was I had no one to blame but myself.

"I don't know what to say," I finally managed. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry you looked at me or sorry you got caught?" Patty said.

"Both, I guess," I said, and a hint of a smile appeared in the corners of her mouth.

I offered a tight smile of my own, one tempered by the fact that in a week and a half she would have quite a story to tell her parents. How fast could I sell this house, I wondered. Not that fast, not in this depressed real estate market I concluded.

"Don't be," Patty said calmly. "If I minded yesterday I would have called the cops or something. I sure as heck must not mind if I came out here again today, right Mr. Domino?"

"I guess not."

"You want to come over?" Patty said. "We could talk."

***

"Make yourself comfy Mr. Domino," Patty said as she nodded to the padded chair next to her, and as I sat down she told me to help myself to a drink. "I brought out an extra glass."

There was a pitcher of what looked like fruit punch on the table, and I nervously grabbed the clean tumbler and filled it with the cool beverage.

"Were you expecting company?" I asked as my shaking hand overfilled the glass a bit while I tried not to stare at Patty's natural charms as I poured.

"I was hoping for some."

"Oh, well I'll take off when he arrives," I assured Patty, who chuckled at that.

"You are him Mr. Domino," she managed to say between giggles.

"Uh - Mr. Domino? That's got vodka in it," Patty said as I was in the middle of guzzling the entire contents, and even though I figured it out by then I kept drinking until it was empty.

"You make a strong drink Patty. Your Dad and Mom know you drink?"

"No. There's a lot of things I do they don't know about," Patty explained. "You going to tell on me?"

"No," I assured her and as I thought about what patty was aware of me doing the day before I added, "There's a lot of things that go on that are best kept secret, right?"

"Agreed," Patty said. "I don't think they care all that much about what I do. I'm not the elegant swan like Julia is. I'm more like the stork or the ugly duckling."

"Ever hear the saying that beauty is in the eye of the beholder?" I suggested.

"Yeah but I didn't believe it until recently," Patty said. "Another hot one today."

"Sure is," I said while watching another droplet emerge from her left armpit.

"I meant your shirt," Patty said, and it was only then that I noticed that my shirt was soaked with sweat. Beyond soaked.

"Oh geez."

"You can take it off if you want," Patty suggested, and after I shook my head she added, "Give me something to look at too."

"I'm not sure we should be having this conversation," I said.

"Have another drink, and then take your shirt off."

I did although I knew this was getting a bit weird. The hair or my chest was plastered to my skin but getting the shirt off made me feel a lot cooler.

"You sweat even more than I do," Patty said. "Are you sweating from the heat, from embarrassment or something else?'

"I don't know."

"You have a nice body for a guy your age. What are you, about 50?"

"I wish. I just turned 58."

"Wow."

"It's the new 48, or whatever that saying is," I said and in an attempt to change the subject asked Patty what grade she was going to be in come fall.

"Freshman. Off to Brown in a couple of months."

"Oh. Time flies. How come you didn't have a graduation party like your older sister did?" I asked. "Maybe I wouldn't have gotten invited but I would have noticed."

"Didn't want one," Patty declared. "I don't have many friends and I'm not much for things where I have to smile and pretend I'm happy to see relatives that don't even know me. Ooh. That tickles."

"Huh?" I said as my eyes wandered.

"The sweat going down my side. It tickles my ribs. Now if there was a knight in shiny armor he would take one of those napkins and save the day."

Like a puppet on a string I stood up and took the step needed to be next to Patty who rested there unflinching but clearly enjoying my discomfort.

I used the paper napkin to dab at the drops of perspiration. How very slender Patty was, I couldn't help noticing being that close. Her ribs were showing, her shoulders were bony and although I couldn't tell for sure because the hair was so thick, her armpits looked incredibly deep. Patty had fading acne scars on her face as well that used to be much worse in her youth.

Why did I find this girl so appealing despite her being so plain? Only part of it was the hair. There was something about her attitude that excited me, and being a businessman who was used to manipulating people I could appreciate it even when it was being done to me.

"Ooh!" Patty sighed when the back of my hand brushed against the edge of her hairs, but when I started back to my seat she reminded me that she had another side so I dutifully went around the back of her chair.

"Instead of a party, Mom asked me if I wanted a present," Patty said as she watched me dry her ribs. "She offered me either a car or implants? What do you think. I mean, I know I need implants..."

"Nobody NEEDS implants," I interrupted as my eyes went to the triangles of fabric that covered what seemed like very small breasts. "Take the car."

"You wouldn't see that if you saw my titties," Patty said. "Do you want to? Just untie my top. I don't care."

"No, that's okay."

"I don't blame you," Patty opined. "I will if you want."

"Please don't."

"Maybe later after you have a few more drinks," Patty said. "They're tough to look at sober."

"It's not that at all. It's just that I'm old enough to be your father and..."

"Grandfather, technically," Patty chimed in.

"Even worse."

"I thought you liked me."

"I do."

"Oh yeah, Mom also offered to get lasered. Full body. Something tells me you wouldn't like that."

"No, I wouldn't."

"That's why I never come out to the pool," patty explained. "Dad would roll his eyes and wondered why I'm not beautiful like Julia, and Mom would stand there telling me that I'll never find a boy if I stay flat and hairy like this. It's not worth the aggravation to listen to that.."

"Besides, I'm not interested in boys." Patty said just before dropping her sunglasses down again. "I prefer men."

***

Patty's words hung in the muggy air for several minutes, and as I filled my glass again as I tried to breathe the thick air while wondering how to get back home so I could take a long cold shower.

"Mr. Domino?" Patty said after the uncomfortable silence became suffocating. "You still miss your wife, don't you?"

"Yes," I said, and the drops that trickled down my cheek were not sweat.

"I think that's sweet," Patty said. "How long has it been, Three years?"

"Four."

"I liked Ms. Domino. She was honest and friendly. Plus anybody who can irritate my Mom is okay in my book."

"I thought Melanie always got along with your folks," I said.

"Oh, they liked her but my Mom is such a tight-ass bitch sometimes," Patty said. "You two came over for my birthday party. I remember it was my 13th. Anyway, after everybody left and then Mom asked Dad if he had noticed Melanie. I still remember the outrage in her voice."

"Imagine the woman letting the hair grow under her arms like that. What does she think she is, a hippie?"

"How did she know about that?" I asked explaining that Melanie never wore sleeveless blouses during the winter unless she was in the house, calling it our little secret.

"I think my Mom looked up her sleeve when she was helping her get stuff out of the cabinet for the party," Patty said. "I mean, I noticed too and I thought it was cool. Not Mom though. What a bitch."

"You shouldn't talk about your Mom like that," I said.

"She shouldn't be so fucking judgmental about people either," Patty said, yanking her glasses off and showing the fire was not just in her words. "Always wanting people to live up to her standards. Wants to make everybody else miserable because her life is so shitty."

"People are..."

"Assholes. I see the way my Mom and Dad are. Then I remember how I used to look at you and Melanie and wonder why my folks aren't like that. You two loved each other so much it was like the whole world could tell and I always thought my Mom was so jealous that she had to find ways to knock happy people like Melanie down"

"Anyway," Patty said. "I kinda liked the natural look so I just let it grow. Sort of like a tribute as well as a way to piss Mom off. I do shave my legs though. See?"

I nodded, having already noticed that her long and slender legs were smooth although there was a little down on her thighs.

"Melanie not shaving. She did that for me," I explained. "Back in the 60's and 70's it was fairly common and I had always fancied the idea of women being natural so she was sweet enough to go along with it. Not in the summer though."

"I know," Patty said. "You guys were over here swimming and I cornered her and talked about it, so she told me."

"Boy, women sure do talk a lot."

"She was easy to talk to."

"She was that," I agreed.

"I always wished she was my Mom."

"We never had kids," I started to explain but Patty said she knew why.

"That's probably just as well," I said, and when Patty asked me what I meant I explained. "Looking through my window at a young girl like a pervert."

"Hey, first of all there's nothing wrong with perverts as long as they don't hurt anybody," Patty said with a grin. "Secondly I'm not your kid. Thirdly, I'm not a kid. I'm a woman. Not much of a woman but a woman."

"I think you're beautiful."

"I know," Patty said. "You didn't have to say it. I can tell. You look at me like my old boyfriend did. maybe even more so."

"You have a boyfriend?"

"Had," Patty corrected. "I dumped him after I found out that his wife wasn't dead like he said. She was very much alive and had been married to him for almost 30 years."

"30 years? How old was he?"

"51."

I didn't know what to say but the thought of some old coot pawing this woman-child made me ill, until I stopped and thought about that.

"He told me he reminded me of his wife was when they were young and they used to follow around the Grateful Dead during the summer. He even showed me a picture of them with dreadlocks, selling grilled cheese sandwiches out of the back of a VW bus with a sign that read GRILLED CHEEDE FOR A BUCK! WHAT THE FUCK!"

That got me laughing and that triggered Patty's first real laugh, and that sounded melodic and happy instead of cynical.

"He was cute and I liked the way he looked at me so I fell for him."

"Your folks know?"

"No. I wouldn't be surprised if they knew him because it turned out he's a pretty big shot downtown, but I didn't know that until I found out about his very alive wife so I slapped him and kicked him to the curb," Patty concluded. "I hate liars. You aren't a liar, are you Mr. Domino?"

"I try not to be."

"So why don't you tell me what you were doing up in your attic while you were watching me yesterday," Patty said calmly.

"Masturbating," I said after a brief silence and a couple of deep breaths.

"You're blushing," Patty remarked as I took the last sip of the vodka punch. "That's cute."

"Embarrassing," I said.

"We all do it. My old man must because he doesn't get laid, at least around here," Patty explained. "So tell me about you jerking off."

"Not much to tell."

"How many times?"

"Twice," I said and as Patty took a deep breath I noticed that patty nipples were pressing out against the bikini, and they looked big.

"Wow. How do you do it? Finger and thumb or fist?"

"Fist."

"One fist or two?" Patty asked.

"One," I said as Patty squirmed in the lounge chair. "I had the other hand holding the binoculars."

12