Like all young women when growing up I had to confront the issue of pubic hair. Although very much English, there is some Spanish blood somewhere in the family and I am quite dark and hairier than average. The fashion was (and is) for bald pussy and I followed suit. I started shaving down there and continued to do so through my student days, as this is the cheap and cheerful method of hair removal. I did try depilation creams, but they did cause a rash.
At the age of 25, influenced in part by feminism and in part by not wanting to look like a little girl, I decided to stop epilation altogether and let my bush grow naturally. Within a few itchy weeks I had a magnificent bush, thick and luxuriant, which I enjoyed stroking. The reaction from boyfriends was mixed (and I might explain this another time), but there was also an occasion reaction from complete strangers.
I was (and remain) a keen swimmer and at the pool I would sometimes catch men looking at the hair that sprouted round my costume. Being a public pool, no one ever made any comment but I could see some were intrigued. In the showers I would, from time to time, hear comments from other women passed between friends ("how could she?", "look at the state of that fanny", "she must be a lesbian" and "no man would go there") or sometimes to my face, some of which commented favourably on my looks. I soon became annoyed at the comments - what gives anyone the right to pass comment on my body and my choices?
Whilst men might be restrained at the pool, there were not so at the beach. I will tell you about one memorable encounter.
It was one of those rare hot and sunny days in the UK and I went to a secluded beach in Cornwall. It was pretty with golden sand, lovely sand dunes and the sea was even mildly warm. I had put my new red bikini on under my dress, to make it easy when I arrived. The bottom consisted of two red triangles held at the sides with string. Although not particularly revealing, my bush poked out each side. The top was likewise two smaller triangles covering my ample breasts, again held in place by string.
When I arrived I found a spot to one side of the beach, put down my beach towel, removed my dress, applied sun cream and laid down to read a book. The welcome feeling of sun on my body always makes me frisky and relaxed. After an hour or so I went for a swim, the water cold compared to the air but a welcome relief from the heat. When I came out of the pool I discovered that the bikini was a bit transparent when wet. You could clearly see my dark nipples, and this was made worse by the fact that the cold had brought them to attention, and my pussy hair.
