"Darling, would you like me to shave your pussy?"

Before I could even consider the proposal, the words "yes please" stumbled out of my mouth. There wasn’t time or space to feel offended or embarrassed. My thighs ached to open for him. The need to be close to him was all-encompassing. I wanted him to touch me.

We had already spent the morning fucking, but this felt intimate on a different level.

He dashed out for champagne while I joined an online meeting. Yes, I was working from home. I’m such a good little multi-tasker.

He soon returned with two bottles of champagne and a new razor. This man clearly had plans for me. He gave me one of his signature ravenous kisses, as if we hadn’t just spent the past three hours literally attached at the hip. We reluctantly detached our lips, which naturally left me wanting more, while he went and prepped everything for my shave. My pussy was getting wetter with anticipation.

Five minutes later I was summoned to his dining area. What I saw gave me fanny flutters. He’d laid the table for me. He folded a soft blanket in half, then put a pretty cream towel with flowers on top, in the middle of his dining table. There was a little stool at the edge of the table to help me up, and a bowl of warm water, shaving cream, aftershave, and a facecloth set neatly beside what I could only describe as an adult-sized baby changing station.

I eagerly sashayed my naked, squishy brown body onto the table. I hadn’t felt this comfortable, this womanly, in a very long time.

I could hear a rooster outside and smell a mixture of fresh-cut grass and champagne. On my back now, I bent both knees and rested the soles of my feet flush on the table. There I was, full bush on display, with my lover inspecting my wet cunt with his intriguing greenish-brown eyes full of lust.

His voice was kind and soft, and he very matter-of-factly said, "You’re going to need to give me space, Darling." He positioned himself on the stool like a seasoned gynaecologist and reassured me that if at any point I felt even remotely uncomfortable, I should tell him to stop.

Huh! As if! TOUCH ME!

His movements were deliberate and sensual. He lathered my skin with shaving cream and, once equipped with his correct reading glasses, began to expertly shave my vulva. I held my tummy up and out of the way, exposing the keloids formed after both of my kids’ Caesarean births. This didn’t deter him in the least.

Shave. Rinse. Shave.

Gently does it. Around the sebaceous cysts on my outer labia, he moved with the ease of a man who’d been shaving pussies for years.

"Things are getting interesting now," he said.

What? Why? Panic.

"Because I’m getting into your folds now."

Then he proceeded to open me up and shave inside me as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

What a MAN, I thought, lying there spread-eagle. A 25-year-old boy could never treat a woman like this. This was experience, wisdom, maturity and emotional intelligence at its finest.

When he had completed his task to his satisfaction, he washed and dried my girl, then promptly used her as a champagne flute. With each sip, each lick, a ball of energy grew in my abdomen, in my vagina. I would have no choice but to release it. To cum.

The waves of pleasure grew in intensity until I orgasmed all over his salt-and-pepper beard.

Happiness. Floating. Glowing.

The rest of the “work from home” day was filled with so much joy and laughter — and more orgasms, of course. But the dining room table, on a smallholding in Hout Bay, would have a special place forever etched in my memory now.

The shave meant more than I ever thought it could. I felt taken care of, liberated. Beautiful. Admired. Loved.

I knew he didn’t love me, but in that moment I surrendered to the fantasy. I allowed myself to be adored and looked after.

I realised then that I was still capable of hope. Deep within me I would risk it all to be someone’s first choice — to be someone’s centrepiece on their dining table.

Whatever happens with The Wolf in the future, I will forever cherish this brief moment in time when I felt the lightness of hope calling to me. Beckoning me to be brave and open to find love and healing.