The Adventures of Robair the Hippie
"
The Townie Girl
"
All characters are 18 or older.
Robair's real name was Robert and he'd been working the whole hippie angle for about six years. He'd grown up around the culture, but had drifted away in high school and college. However, sometime around his mid-twenties, he had begun attending a folk festival in Texas, and everything changed.
One of the main things about hippie culture was their free expression of sex and sexuality, and Robert was a horndog from way back. On his first trip to Kerrville (where the festival was held), they had taken a trip to the river. He had been pleasantly surprised to see women lounging fully naked in the shallows and on the bank.
One woman had sandy blonde dreadlocks and cute freckles all over her body. She had taut little breasts with hard pointy nipples. But even better was her beautiful bubble butt. Oh, what an ass! Round and firm and meant for spanking! And best of all, a full bush. Robair liked a hairy pussy. Nothing was better than a wet, slimy pussy with red lips and matted hair. To him, nothing quite said "fuck me" like a hot, hairy, wet pussy.
Another woman, a brunette, was full figured and hot as hell. Her long black hair fell around her glorious huge breasts. Massive teats were they, swaying enticingly every time she moved. It was all Robair could do not to stare dazedly. Her hips were full and womanly, and yes, she had a hairy little black bush. At one point she bent over to pick up a river rock and Robair was treated to a beautiful sight: her full lush ass, pulled slightly apart by her position, framing her gorgeous pussy. Black hair tufted backwards, framing the vertical lips of her pussy. He could even see her little pussy hole pull open slightly. Robair could feel his cock stiffen.
Lastly, he saw the goddess. A redhead with an absolutely perfect body. Full, proud tits, a tight waist, a curvy tight little ass, and a fiery red bush. Her proportions were perfect. He couldn't look away. As he watched her, he could tell she knew exactly how hot she was. She moved with the calm assurance of a queen. In that moment, he knew he needed to have her. Three days into the festival, he was balls deep in ginger pussy, but that's a story for another day.
This is the story of
Robair and the Townie Girl
.
Six years had passed since that fateful day at the river, and Robair had worked hard at his hippie persona. In the real world, he was a program manager at a major financial software firm. He had grown out his hair for his hippie adventures, but at work it was pulled tightly back and he wore fine suits. He was assertive, and even at times aggressive. When a due date was near, he could be a monster, but he always got his projects in on time and below budget. Lately there had been talk about a vice president position for young Robert.
But Robair, well, Robair was a different story. You see, Robair was a software developer for children's education. He was vegan and practiced Reiki massage. He was kind and compassionate and he never spoke above a calm melodic tone. Figuring guitars too common, he had carefully studied the Greek Bouzouki, which was kind of like a big mandolin. He had learned dozens of medieval love songs, which never ceased to impress the young and inexperienced hippie chicks.
This year at Kerrville, a hot young woman named Jayde had attached herself to him. Although he usually tried to remain a free agent at Kerrville, he had made an exception for Jayde. She was a cute little nerdy jewish girl with a tight little muscular body. But what had captured him was her pussy. The first time they fucked, he slipped all the way into her wet little pussy in one long slow stroke. This was unusual, because at eight inches and thick, he always had to work his cock in little by little. But what was even more unusual was the fact that she didn't loosen up at all. Usually, as he levered around his massive fuck pole, he opened women up. Not Jayde. Her little cunt remained tight as a fist, and as he came hard in her suckling little hole, he thought,
This one's a keeper
.
Since then, they had been fucking like rabbits; two or three times a day. He hadn't felt a moment's regret at being "tied down."
Until now.
He was sitting in the festival grounds, which was divided from the camping grounds. The hardcore "Kerrverts" camped for the full 18 days, but a lot of people just came in for the weekend to enjoy the shows in the festival grounds. Some came from as far away as San Antonio or Austin.
It was the ninth day of the festival, the middle Saturday. It tended to be one of the busiest nights, so Robair had laid down his blanket a fair distance away from the theater seating. He was near a tree and a picknick bench and he was just enjoying people-watching. The bulk of the crowd was seated in front of the stage or browsing the craft booths a couple hundred feet behind him. His area of the field was significantly less populated, with sparse blankets laid about and people rushing with armloads of beers to and fro. To his right in a grassy area, people were tossing Frisbees.
And that was when he saw her. A tall willowy brunette with a gentle sweet face. A townie. Definitely a townie. She was wearing a JC Penny's "peasant skirt" and a plain white blouse. Definite beginner hippie attire! Robair felt a grin spread across his face.
What a rare gem!
You see, there were two kinds of townies. The first and by far the most common, were the hillbillies. Being in the hill country of Texas, they were everywhere. If you're looking for a girl in sweats, with hair pulled painfully back, a misspelled cursive tattoo on her left tit, who smokes Marlboro Reds and fucks like a goddamned maniac, a Texas hill country hillbilly girl is for you.
But this girl was the other kind. The rarest bird of all. A rich townie. Most of the upper class of Kerrville did their best to keep their kids out of the Folk festival. It was known as a hotbed of underage drinking, sex, and drug use.
But he could tell this girl had class. Her hair was clean and well groomed, held back with barrettes. Her strappy sandals looked expensive. Diamond bracelet. But even more importantly she held herself in a delicate yet confident manner. Yes, this was a true upper-class princess.
Robair looked around. Jayde was due to join him in about 30 minutes. She was finishing her shift at the tie dye booth. There was no telling how long the townie princess would linger, so he had to act fast.
Time to turn on the "Robair radar." He'd become an expert in observational nuance. What could he tell about this girl?
One, her cheeks were flushed and she was looking around excitedly. She was on an adventure. Definitely enjoying a trip to the "dark side." What forbidden experiences did she hope for?
Two, she had glanced insecurely his way two or three times since he had noticed her. She was definitely interested. He smiled. He had carefully curated his look. He was wearing billowing gypsy pants, no underwear, barefoot. No shirt, tan and toned. Hand-made copper/turquois necklace and arm band. He knew exactly the picture he presented. Heck, he had worked hard to perfect it.
Finally, he thought he picked up some lingering sadness. From this distance, in this light, it was hard to tell, but he had learned to trust his radar. Posture and motion added hints. No doubt, she was saddened by something.
Time to act
.
She saw him approaching and her blush rose higher. Now he could see that she had pale skin and blue eyes to go with her dark hair. Quite the fetching contrast! Someone had taken good care of her. Kept her out of the sun. Kept her out of the clutches of men like Robair. His grin grew feral.
