Quickies I Choose Bush

Note: This is part of an anthology of short and sweet stories that skip some of the details and get right to the point. If you want more exposition, see my other stories outside of this set.

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"LET'S GO!" my wife yelled from the front door.

We were late to meet with her brother's family for dinner. It was just one of those chain sit-down restaurants, nothing fancy, but I had forgotten about it and was only now getting dressed. "Shit" I thought, as I realized I was behind on laundry. Rooting in the back of my closet, I found a pile of "never wear" t-shirts, and blindly grabbed one as I pulled on my jeans. Running down the stairs, I put it on and was ready.

"Nice," said my wife sarcastically as we hot stepped it to the car. "Thanks for dressing up."

Looking down I saw I had grabbed an old shirt from my youth. "I Choose Bush" it said, referencing the former president. Laughing to myself, I thought back to those years and how times had changed.

Arriving at the restaurant, my in laws had already sat down and were waiting for us. I got along fine with my brother-in-law, Joe, although his wife was always cold to me.

"Are you serious?" Joe said looking at me smiling. Over his shoulder his wife, Jane, rolled her eyes. "Why do you even still have that?!"

"I know, I know," I said, trying to downplay it, "Fashion is not my strong suit."

"Who even is Bush?" my teenage nephew asked.

"Only a president, idiot!" his sister sneered, mocking him.

"Oh, yeah, I knew that," he replied, likely lying.

"Look, we've already ordered," Jane interrupted, "Can you guys just sit and I'll flag down the server?"

A few moments later, the waitress arrived, pad in hand and a bored look on her make-up free face. This was probably a summer job for her, as she was young and slow with her description of the specials. I noticed her nametag, almost hidden beneath long thick curls of black hair that waved over her shoulders and brushed around the cleavage she allowed to show in her tight tank top. It read "Molly."

"So, what'll you be having tonight?" she said to my wife.

I started looking more closely at the menu. While I did so, I felt the eyes of our waitress staring at me. I looked up.

Her face had brightened a bit and she asked with a nod to my chest, "Is that, like, really true?"

"Well, ok, I mean, it's an old shirt, and a lot of people don't really like Bush now. But, yes, at the time, I mean, really still, I stand by my choice!"

Groans came from the grownups at the table. Joe, made a guffaw, "NO one likes Bush these days!"

"Well, I still think Bush is just fine!" I shot back, a bit more defensively than I intended.

Jane was not amused, but an intrigued smile crossed Molly's face. Looking at my wife, she said, "And you are ok with him wearing this shirt out in public?"

"He's his own man," my wife replied. "Bush is not for me, but I am fine with him choosing whoever appeals to him most. As long as he doesn't talk about this stuff around the house, he can do what he wants."

"Really?" said young Molly, a bit startled "That's...so open-minded of you!" She gave me a bemused look that lingered for an awkward amount of time.

"Can we please get this dinner started?" Jane interjected.

I placed my order, and the waitress winked at me and went on her way.

"I bet she isn't even old enough to remember when Bush was president," my wife laughed.

Eventually the food arrived, and my t-shirt was no longer the focus of conversation. After a few drinks, I excused myself from the group to use the restroom. I found it down a narrow service hallway and relieved myself. As I returned down the hallway, Molly suddenly emerged from a side door and stepped in front of me.

"Hey, do you have a minute?" she said cheerfully. "There's something I really want you to see."

"Um, sure," I replied, looking over at our table. Our families were deeply engrossed in some conversation, and we weren't going anywhere anytime soon.

"Great!" she said, leading me through another corridor and into a small storage closet. She glanced down the hallway and then closed the door.

"Does this have to do with my shirt?" I asked, confused about what we were doing in here. The walls were lined with restaurant supplies, but there were also boxes of random knick-knacks and old, signed pictures of patrons who'd come in for dinner over the years.

"Mmmhmm," Molly answered, coyly, and she pulled out a barstool that was blocking a few boxes. Turning to face me, she beckoned me forward with a single outstretched finger. I complied, confused about what she wanted.

Molly turned her finger and placed it on her stomach, pointing straight down. It was dark in the storeroom, so I squinted at the boxes behind the stool, not knowing what I was looking for. I leaned forward, trying to get a better look, then knelt in front of Molly as I peered through her legs and the metal supports of the stool into an open box.

"What am I supposed to see?" I asked.

Molly's leggings abruptly fell to the floor and she stepped out of them, leaving her shoes behind. She hopped up onto the stool, resting her heels on the crossbeams beneath. I looked up to see her knees aiming outwards and legs spread wide. She wore translucent white panties with tiny straps that sat high on her chubby wide-set hips. Beneath the fabric was an ominous dark shadow.

"This is what I wanted to show you," Molly sounded almost giddy.

After rising slightly to peel off the panties, she sat back down and placed her hands inside her thighs, opening herself completely to me. The smell of arousal filled the cramped room. In the light of a single incandescent bulb, she was displaying her wild, untrimmed pussy just inches from my face. The dark black hair started right below her belly button and filled in a broad triangle that pointed down toward her parted brown labia. The tangles extended outward onto her upper thighs and completely encircled her snatch, gleaming with a hint of moisture. She looked like she had never owned a razor in her life. The sight was so raw and feral that it instantly stirred up my basest instinct and sent my cock straining in my pants.

"All the boys my age seem to like girls who shave, but I just hate that feeling." Molly said. "It's so refreshing to meet a man that values a woman's true nature."

"I uh..."

"Hearing how into bush you are really got me, well... turned on." She moved her right hand and started to massage circles over, into, and through her dark furry patch. "I mean, REALLY turned on. I haven't been able to stop thinking about what it would be like for someone to appreciate me for who I am and not what they want me to be. And, since your wife doesn't mind—as long as we don't talk about it, I mean, I thought..."

"Molly, I have a feeling there's been a bit of a..."

Not listening, Molly interrupted me. "I thought it'd be ok to give you a little treat." I looked up at this young, earnest girl. She bit her lower lip and flashed her naïve eyes. "Go ahead," she encouraged.

I froze, caught off guard by what was happening. Molly saw my hesitation and began to flush and look nervous. "Oh no, is it too much for you too?"

I suddenly felt a responsibility to not leave this girl feeling self-conscious. I knew I shouldn't, but how could I let her down? Of course, it's possible it was my throbbing erection sending me these rationalizations for less chivalrous reasons.

Her legs started to close, and it was now or never. I leaned forward and burrowed my face into Molly's overgrowth. She giggled and began wiggling her abdomen. I felt her coarse pubic hair teasing my nose and cheeks as I started to run my tongue up and down her slit. The experience was quite different from the neatly trimmed style of my wife and further fueled my primal urges. Molly tasted surprisingly sweet and fresh. I swirled my tongue around her clit, dampening her hair further and causing her to start moaning.

"Oh, you do like it!" she sighed, almost in disbelief. Molly closed her eyes and put her hands on the back of my head, pulling me more firmly into her wilderness. I dipped my tongue deep inside her pussy, and then began to suck gently on her clit.

"Yes, eat your pie!" the young waitress exclaimed starting to shake. "I made your favorite."

Molly's movements took control and she started gyrating on my lips and tongue. "Don't stop!" she begged as her legs trembled. Her cunt hair was soaked now and I felt it painting my face with her juices. Molly's legs snapped shut around my ears and she let out a deep groan.

"You're making me...cum!" she barely managed to say as fire zipped through her body. She crushed me between her thighs as she rode out her orgasm.

Not yet releasing me, Molly's body jerked arrhythmically and I kept working her clit with my lips and tongue. Her hands urgently pressed on the back of my head and a second jolt coursed through her body. She gasped, arching her back, and a rivulet of sweet liquid trickled into my mouth.

"Oh, my hairy pussy is so happy!" she gasped, releasing me from her vice. But I didn't stop playing with her. I snaked my hand between her legs and slid my fingers through her pubic hair. It was long enough to grip and I pulled just a little.

"It's ok, I already...ahh...oh, that's...!"

I dipped my two middle fingers up inside of her to massage the soft flesh behind her clit. The combination of my tongue on her love knob and my probing fingers sent her over the edge again, more powerfully this time, and she let out a deep moan as the wave consumed her. For a moment I was able to play her like a musical instrument as she let out an array of squeaks and whimpers in response to the pressure and release of my touch. At last I stopped, and she settled into a quivering heap on the stool. My cock was leaking into my pants from the intensity of Molly getting off.

After a moment she composed herself. Her hand unconsciously played with her sopping bush as she basked in the warm sensations. "God," she smiled, "you really are a fan!"

I was a little in shock about what had just happened. Standing up, I just looked at her silently, my face sloppy with her fluids.

The sides of Molly's lips turned up mischievously. "Listen—my fuzzy cunt has been dying to meet a cock that likes her for who she is. My boyfriend was all talk until he saw me exposed, and nothing went right after that. I'd really like to find out if you've been honest with me." Her eyes turned down to my crotch.

The waitress's smooth hands went to my belt and started deftly opening it. I didn't stop her. How could I? Soon, my pants were down and my fully engorged, leaking member emerged.

"Oh good, that's what I was hoping," Molly said seeming genuinely relieved. She grabbed my waist and guided me right to her entrance. Leaning back a little, she rotated her hips to let my cock slide up and down between the wrinkled, protruding lips of her pussy. Then she took me in her hand and began to swirl my dripping tip through her furry muff. Sticky streaks of my precum smeared through her dark locks.

"Are you really this hard for me?" Molly asked with sincere disbelief. The bristles of her bush sent little spikes of electricity up the length of my shaft.

I nodded. Any sense of responsibility to her I had previously was now replaced with desperate need.

Molly was starting to breathe deeply again. She leaned close to my ear and whispered, "Look, I've only done this once, with my ex, and he really hated my...down there area. But, you make me feel..."

Ending the sentence with a hum, Molly placed the tip of my straining rod into the entrance of her dark wooded forest. "Seeing isn't enough. I want to feel your love for this bushy pussy." Her legs wrapped around me and I watched my cock disappear into the ragged curls of this young waitress, amazed at how my own body was responding to her hirsute beauty.

Wet and eager, she squeezed me into her tight passage, but I met resistance about three quarters of the way in. Molly cringed for a moment. "I think that's where my boyfriend ended," she said. Her legs flexed around me, and with surprisingly powerful strength, she forced my rigid cock to probe into her uncharted territory.

"Oh, fuck, yes!" Molly groaned as our bodies came fully together at last. I felt the field of her pubic hair tickling my pelvis as she ground herself on me. She refused to allow me to pull away from her and held me in the warmth of her body. We fucked like this for a while, Molly keeping my bulging hard-on firmly inside her and furiously using her glutes and hips to stimulate the deepest recesses of her body.

"You make me feel like a real woman," she groaned, as she clenched her cunt, choking my cock at its base. I reached behind and grabbed her babyfat ass, pressing myself into her just a tiny bit further. It sent her over the edge, and I felt the muscles in her thighs ripple as she peaked again.

At last she relaxed her legs, and I was able to slide within her. Still grabbing her ass, I looked down to watch my member blissfully piston in and out of the void of matted fur. Her breathing was returning to normal.

"That felt so good!" Molly giggled. I slowed my pace down as she reveled in the afterglow. She noticed the change and her eyes narrowed slightly. "I don't understand," she challenged me, "if you like me so natural, why aren't you doing what comes naturally?"

Her words unleased my inner beast and sent my balls boiling. I began to passionately fuck this hairy waitress with long, deep, aching thrusts. She encouraged me on with loud moans of pleasure and lifted up her tank top to reveal perky young natural tits. My cock swelled inside her and prepared to show her the appreciation she was craving.

"I can feel you twitching!" Molly exclaimed. "Give my cunt curls what they need!"

Heading over the edge, I pulled out at the last moment and shot a large spurt of cum all over her glistening pubic hair. Molly reacted almost instantly and caught me tightly in her hand, delaying for a split second my next spasm.

"That's so fucking hot!" she said as she relaxed her grip, releasing a second, larger jet that bushwhacked a path all the way to her belly button.

Molly changed my aim and slid her pussy lips back around my jerking cock, allowing me to finish emptying my balls inside the depths of her tight cunt. With every pulse of cum, she let out a gasp, finally losing control of her body once again as my cock shuddered madly in a desperate effort to inject every last drop I had into her.

Fully depleted, we stayed silent and intertwined for a few moments, then separated. Some of my cum leaked out of her and got trapped in the tangle of hair below her cunt.

"What a mess!" Molly said, dipping her hand into the spunky sludge between her legs. "I love it!" She handed me a stack of napkins from a nearby pile.

I wiped off and pulled my pants up. Suddenly realizing that I needed to get back to my family, I started getting tense.

"It's fine," the beaming waitress said, reading me instantly. "We both got what we needed."

As I exited the storage room, I turned back to Molly, trying to leave things a little less abruptly. "I guess it's a good thing I didn't choose Kerry, right?" I joked lamely.

"What's Kerry?" Molly replied blankly.

I could hear Jane loudly asking where the hell I was in the distance. With a slight nod, I let Molly's question go unanswered as I returned to the table.