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Shaving Grace

"My boyfriend takes full advantage when I finally agree to let him shave my pussy..."

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I remember when I first started to pay attention to my pussy hair. It was many years ago, when I first began seeing Evert. He was a few years older than me and liked everything to be ‘just so’. He had encouraged me to wax my bikini line and trim my pubic hair into a neat little triangle. Of course, I had been too shy to think about going to have it done professionally, back then, but Evert was already experienced in manicuring his own ‘bits’ and applied the strips of cloth to the wax and ripped mine out too. God, that had been sore as fuck. I remembered looking at him with tear-filled eyes and asking if he hated me! He had shaken his head and told me to go and take a look in the mirror. I had. In fact, it had looked so good that I had pretty much favoured that style from that moment on.

Evert had been the first man I’d known who trimmed his pubic hair. In those days, guys in Central Scotland would have found the idea laughable, but Evert had not been one to follow the herd or maybe it was his Dutch upbringing? He regularly shaved or waxed around his cock and balls. I’d been taken aback at first, it had looked so strange, so alien to me, but man, when it was down my throat, the bare skin was such a fucking turn on, plus it made what was an already good-sized member look huge . My pussy gave a slight pulse as I remembered the night when he had asked if he could shave my mound bare, how it would be a huge turn on for him. At first I had tried to change the subject, for some reason it was a daunting prospect, kind of creeped me out a bit. But one night I had arrived at his city-centre apartment and he’d already drawn me a deep bubble bath, with essential oils and candlelight, glasses and an ice bucket with a bottle of the finest, vintage champagne.

I had spent the whole day on my feet, working, and was rather glad of the chance to relax. I was so beat. He had lavished me with attention, sponging my back, kissing my neck, god I was such a sucker for a mouth on my neck. He had soaped my breasts, pulling and tugging at my nipples with slippery fingers and by the time he got to my pussy, I was so turned on that I never noticed that he’d let some of the water out of the bath. What remained in the tub lapped around my body and I glanced down to see that my breasts and pussy were completely exposed, much to my surprise.

The room was very warm though and I didn’t feel cold at all.

Evert had looked at me, smiled and then took a firm shaving brush, wet it and then rubbed it around the small dish of solid soap and proceeded to dab it onto my wet mound, circling and massaging the foam into my soft curls. “I think it’s time to see what this pussy looks like after a little haircut,” he grinned.

I could only moan as the stiff bristles worked my lips, it felt so fucking hot.

I was completely taken aback, although not entirely shocked, I knew how much he liked the way that his own cock looked with no unruly curls around it. My first reaction of course, was to refuse, dammit, I wasn’t going to do it just because he told me to, but as he worked the foam over my pussy lips with the stubbly brush, and the eucalyptus scent permeated my labia a little, they began to tingle and I felt my clit rise, aching to be soaped and rubbed too. My lower body lifted under his ministrations as my back arched and I found myself incredibly turned on, no longer sleepy, but wide awake, with an intense urge to feel him inside me.

Without stopping the rubbing of thick foam into my curls, he reached down and lifted a yoga block from the floor. “Lift your ass,” he ordered, pushing the foam shape under my hips and giving him clearer access to my now-white, soap-coated mound.

With my lower body raised like that, my pussy was completely out of the water. It intensified every stroke and I could feel my own arousal mixing with the scented liquid which was oozing between my tingling lips, running down to my now exposed rosebud. I couldn’t stop myself from thrusting my hips up, meeting the harsh bristles of the shaving brush.

“You like that, huh?” he asked, slipping his fingers between my swollen lips and sliding them up and down, clit to asshole.

I gasped and my body jerked as did and he grinned at my reaction, then picked up the razor.

“Ready?” he pulled my lips apart, pulling it taut and pressed the sharp edge against the top of one. “You’ll have to keep still,” he cautioned, “I don’t want to mark that precious pussy.” And in one expert, swift stroke, he pulled the razor down.

It’s hard to explain how it felt, there was a sudden coolness where the razor had been, a strip of bare flesh, now exposed to the air, still tingling with the effect of the oil in the foam. He rubbed his finger along it, smiling, and then he pulled the blade over it again until he was satisfied it was smooth.

“Mmm, yes, I like this, it feels nice,” he cooed as he began to stroke the rest of my pussy with the razor, stopping only to shake the head under the water to remove the excess hair he’d cut.

I was writhing at the feeling of the increasing exposure and he placed a hand on my lower belly, holding me in place. “Keep still, Grace, I really don’t want to nick your skin. This is the tricky bit.”

He pulled my lips apart, “Oh my, you are a dirty little slut aren’t you? Look how wet you are!” His fingers slipped easily between my puffy lips and I let out a soft moan but tried to stop my body from lifting and rocking, as he’d told me, not wanting to get nicked by the blade.

Gingerly he ran the sharp edge just inside my lips, catching the smaller hairs there, being very, very careful with the soft, delicate skin. He went over each side a few times, rubbing a wet fingertip along until it was truly smooth. Then he pinched my clit firmly between finger and thumb and pulled it taut, dragging the razor close to the base, catching any other stray hairs which he might have missed. I could barely contain the squeal of delight as he pulled and tugged. He gently rubbed finger and thumb together and I swear I nearly came, I was so on edge.

Once he had finished, with no warning, he pushed two fat fingers inside me, setting down the razor and using the other hand to palm and caress my bare pussy.

This is it , I thought, now I can come , but it seemed that he had other plans. Teasingly, he pressed his fingertips against my g-spot and rubbed. I felt the surge of my climax, muscles clenched around his fingers and he looked at me, displeased and pulled his fingers from me, just as quickly as he’d put them in.

“No!” he barked, giving my aching pussy a sharp smack, no protection from pubic hair, now that I was bald and the electric feeling burst through my loins. He smacked my already tingling cunt once, twice, three times, in quick succession.

“We’re not finished yet,” he informed me, as he roughly pulled my knees apart, dragging me further down over the yoga block, “let me see that little untouched rosebud of yours.”

My cunt was wide, gaping, aching for his cock as he began to finger and press my tighter hole. He pulled my cheeks apart and began to apply more foam to my ass crack with the bristles. It felt so fucking good, I felt like a dirty little bitch, his dirty little bitch. He held my cheeks apart and used short, curving strokes to make sure that there was no hair around my asshole. Again, he smoothed his fingertips over every inch of my skin, running the blade over even the tiniest, obstinate follicle.

I was bare, completely bare. The touch of his fingers was intensified, everything was intensified, and I ached to be fucked.

I looked at him, my expression pleading, hoping that he would let me cum.

He seemed to glare at me for a moment, as if deciding whether or not I had earned my pleasure.

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A wicked smirk lifted the corners of his mouth and became a full smile.

“So, my dirty little girl wants to cum?”

I nodded, “Uh huh, please let me, I need to cum, please?” I was almost begging by this point.

“Let’s see what we can do then,” he conceded, but I knew it wasn’t going to be that straightforward.

He lifted a sponge and dipped it into the water before squeezing it over my clean-shaven mound. As he pressed it over me, washing away the gel, I was still tingling, that eucalyptus oil was powerful stuff and my clit still stood, erect, poised and ready for climax. He cupped water into his palm and scooped it over me, washing between my soft folds, really cleaning me. Then he splashed my buttocks and made a big show of rubbing my ass crack. Well prepared as always, he lifted a small bottle of oil and dribbled it over my pussy, lots of it. He began to massage it over my smooth mound and almost immediately I felt a heat, an exquisite burning.

It flowed between my lips and I felt my clit engorge further, until it was almost impossibly thick and stiff. I thought about asking what was in the liquid he’d just poured onto me, but I could see he was all business and quite frankly, my pussy was pretty much calling the shots, so my brain slipped into second gear... He pinched my clit between thumb and forefinger again, pulling the sheath back as though it were a tiny cock, slowly at first, then increasing in pressure and speed until I was jerking against his hand.

He pulled and jerked until I was almost coming. Almost. And then he stopped.

My face fell and my look of abject disappointment must have tugged at Evert’s heart strings, such as they were, for he gave me a sympathetic look. “I have plans for my Grace now. Are you ready? Do you trust me?”

As I nodded my assent, the aromatic oil was deep in my cunt but it also began to penetrate my tight ass and I gasped at the tingling, burning feeling which was beginning to radiate from my core. He pushed his fingers between my dripping lips, they felt cool against the fiery heat. I closed my eyes and let out a moan, tilting my pelvis up to meet him.

“You’ve finished your champagne, dear,” he noted, lifting the bottle from the ice bucket, topping up my glass and handing it to me.

I could barely think about taking a sip, but he sat, watching until I had taken a large mouthful and swallowed it, before removing the glass from my hand and setting it down in the shelf beside the candles. He gave me a look of extreme wickedness and I watched as he put his hand into the ice bucket, rattling the cubes around and making them clank against the metal.

Oh, ice cubes? I pondered, thinking that this was turning out to be the most exciting night we’d had in ages, and believe me, we’d had more than a few. He was an excellent lover.

“Lean your head back,” he said quietly, “Close your eyes and relax.”

Relax? Really? I felt anything but calm, still, I did as he bid, my butt still propped above the water, high on the yoga block.

I felt his fingers at my ass again, rubbing and massaging the magical oil over my bud and then I felt him push a finger against it. “Relax!” he ordered once more and I let my legs fall completely open against the sides of the bath. A sudden shock of cold assaulted a nipple as he touched an ice cube against it and it began to melt immediately and run down the curve of my breast, onto my belly.

“Oh look at that,” he purred and the sudden hotness of his mouth around the pointed flesh made me sigh and lift my hips once more. He pushed his finger, eased it inside my ass and I had to concentrate not to clench my bottom, we’d never engaged in any sort of ass play at that point and the feeling was new, alien to me.

I cried out as he pressed a cube against my clit and he pushed his finger deeper into my bottom, rubbing the melting ice up and down my clitoris as he did, as though the distraction would let my rosebud relax and ease the passage of his digit. It did too. The numbing sensation was all I could think of and my buttocks relaxed as he worked his finger inside me. A second digit slipped inside my tight hole and he began to move them around, like a small cock, fucking my ass, all the while working my clit with the ice. The contrast of the cold, melting on my clit, running between my pussy lips meant that I had so much going on that the whole anal penetration thing just became a part of the bigger picture, as though he was taking me by surprise, like some sort of sexual magician with magical sleight of hand.

I felt the heat return to my clitoris as he removed the ice and I heard the bucket rattle again and then I felt it. A freezing cold sensation against my lips, rubbing between them. It wasn’t ice though and I opened my eyes, raising my head to get a better view of what he was doing.

“Eyes closed!” he snapped and I felt a stinging blow on my clit as he smacked it with his open palm.

Fuck! It was sore, but oh so good. “Please, baby,” I begged, “I need to cum! Let me cum?”

“Soon, Grace, soon,” he promised, fingers knuckle-deep in my tight ass. He pulled them suddenly from my bottom with a soft ‘pop’ and I felt the cold sensation replace them, filling my rectum with ice. No... not ice. He was working a freezing rod into my ass, deeper, pulling it back and forth, was it a dildo? He was fucking my oily ass with a dildo?

“Good girl,” he whispered, you like that don’t you? A thick glass cock in your ass? Take it, take it all.” He pushed it, deep, inside me and his hot, thick fingers were plunging into my cunt again, fucking both of my holes. The difference in temperature made me feel like I didn’t really know what was happening, only that I was about to experience the most intense orgasm of my life.

Without his say so, I moved my hand to my clit, still standing proud from my crotch, the sheer size of it almost alien to me and I began to rub at the base, half-expecting another slap to my pussy. It never came. I could hear him, a low growl from deep in his throat as he finger fucked my hole and dildo fucked my ass with the freezing glass cock. It slid in easily, lubricated by the oil and juice from my cunt.

“You can cum now,” he breathed, little more than a whisper, but I had been waiting for it and my muscles instantly clenched around his fingers, the cool fake dick, as I began to quake.

I heard the sound of an animal howling and realised that the primal roar was coming from me. My climax washed through me, I felt so full, like I was going to pee and there was a sudden gush of hot fluid as I came, squirting onto his hand. That had never happened before.

“Oh goood girl, good fucking girl,” his strokes slowed as he took me through it, extending my cum. I could hear the smile in his voice, how pleased he was with me and the way I’d reacted to his expert manipulation.

“You will keep your pussy bare for me,” his voice was dictatorial, “I like this, like your bare cunt, mine to use as I see fit.”

I nodded yes as the waves receded, smelling my sex, coming down. “Yes, your pussy. It’s your pussy,” was all I was able to gasp as my breathing began to return to normal.

Of course, once I was ‘sober’ again, the fuck you side of my nature returned. I was no one’s toy, not his plaything. He was a manipulative bastard at the end of the day and not long after, we went our separate ways, pretty amicably in fact.

But he did know his way around a pussy and even though I let my hair grow back to its neat little triangle shape as soon as we’d split, I never ever did forget that night...

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Written by Mazza
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