“Wait a second,” my spouse said.  We were naked in bed.  “I have a hair caught.”

He reached down to his package to move around some bodily materials.

“You have a pubic hair stuck in a crease of your parts?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said.  “It’s better now.”


“Your bush is huge right now!” I said, petting it.  Love to the long hairs that slightly curl upward, at the ends.  Cute!  “Maybe we should give you a trim.”

“Maybe,” he said.  He didn’t seem too keen on the idea.  But I’ve liked his trims before, when his dick seems more exposed, easier to suck, with less hair in my face.

But his pubic hair is nice to pet.  I pretend he’s my kitty.  It’s very dark and soft, with a few stray grays.  What lovely hair he has, in all the places.


“What do you need such a big bush for?” I asked.  “Do you think God is going to speak to you, through your bush?”

I started laughing, and my spouse did too.  Moses references are always welcome at our house.  Bush is a valid God-communication method.  Why not?

“Take off your sandals,” I said, pretending to be the voice of God, speaking from my spouse’s bush.


Laughing cuddling sex is a favorite.  Laughing while feeling sexual arousal plus sexual pleasure mixed together is almost too much good at once.  Like I’m going to pass out.

What about my pubic hair?  It’s good!  Not as dark as his, but almost. It grows less densely.  It’s sparser than it once was.

But my spouse likes to ejaculate on it.  It’s sweet to watch him masturbate between my legs, and come on my pubic hair.  Maybe it’s a fetish.

He also likes to come on my clit.   That’s a squishy experience, nice lube to masturbate with afterward.


By Nest

Curious, disabled Earth Goddess, telling the truth.

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