There was only time for Lydia to fix a quick snack after taking the pictures and the fantasy masturbation session afterwards. It was already 2 PM, and she wanted to make sure her SUV was cleaned up — no sweaty work-out clothes smell inside! — and she wanted to run it through the car wash before leaving for Zach's. She would be squiring her man around town this evening for their date. Delicious!
Cleaning up the interior and then driving the car through the car wash didn't take long, and the anticipation of the approaching date intensified as Lydia began getting ready for her evening with Zach.
She started by pondering which outfit for indoor skydiving would be appropriate, yet still both sexy and casual. The dark green top with the sea-foam light green pants? A jump suit? (They were going sky-diving, after all!)
Preparing for her date that evening with Zach had her in the best mood possible: excited, nervous, in love, horny, anticipatory — the emotions were an intoxicating mix that had her giddy.
I'm going to be in his arms tonight, making love!
And then somewhere in the midst of planning how best to look as sexy as possible for her man, the thought hit her:
Did he go to some waxing salon to get all smooth and inviting for me?
The immediate thought after that was:
Did some other woman, some waxing technician, see my man? Did she touch him in places that only I should touch him? What
else
did she see in the process of waxing away the hair between his cheeks?
Stunned, Lydia dropped to a cross-legged position on the floor of her closet.
Was Zach even partially nude in front of some other woman!? Some woman not named Lydia Tanner!?
Surely not!
An intense flash of jealously shot through Lydia's body. It took several minutes to tamp it down to a simmer. Considering the possibility this could have happened caused the skin on her arms to itch.
Across the many fantasy sessions she'd indulged in when masturbating to thoughts of Zach, she had never had mental images of a nude Zach that included anyone other than herself. Now Lydia was thinking that this awful event — some other woman in real life seeing parts of Zach's body that nobody but she should ever see — could have
already happened!
Her mind spun out of control as she started imagining the scenario of Zach on a waxing table, some other woman seeing him, seeing his naked butt, chatting with him as she saw what was Lydia's alone to see.
Did he get an erection in front of this woman?
Zach! No, no, no! Dammit! No — you didn't!
The image would not leave her mind, even though it was crazy. No salon would require complete nudity to wax only one part of a man's body.
But the part the technician
would
see was a very private part,
Lydia thought.
The jealous reaction certainly had its way with Lydia's thinking processes.
First, it was a small, beautiful Asian woman: young, pretty, and vivacious, enjoying her work, trying to keep her sexual excitement in check at working with such a handsome man, a man surely in better shape and sexier than any man she'd ever worked with . . . "Uh, I'm so sorry this is taking so long, Mr. Brenner. I do want to do a thorough job . . ."
Then it was an older woman, a no-nonsense, let-me-do-my-job-and-go-home type who found suddenly that she really enjoyed this particular waxing appointment . . . "You are in fantastic shape, Mr. Brenner. Do you work out? If you don't mind me saying, your butt is so well toned . . ."
Then it was
two
women, both attractive and sexy, one a bit older and training the younger employee who had just been hired. They exchanged knowing glances of appreciation at having such a sexy, toned, handsome man on their table, his naked butt on display as the mentor talked the new employee through the procedure . . . "Here, if you'll hold him open for me, I can show you better how to . . ."
Lydia grabbed her stomach and rocked in place, squeezing her eyes shut against the mental images that would not stop.
There was no way her mind would return to the task of selecting an outfit for their date, and Lydia strode to her computer, immediately pulling up the images from the "Because I thought you might like this" folder. The first image filled the screen, and she examined her nude man's surrendered opening, searching for any clue that Zach had gone to some salon to have the hairs between his cheeks waxed away by some lucky waxing technician who would have seen every millimeter of the most personal part of her man's anatomy.
Of course there was no way to know just by looking. Frustrated, she slumped back into the chair at her computer. Chewing her lip in frustration, she wrestled with the images of some woman — or women! — seeing Zach's firm, naked butt and enjoying the request for a between-the-cheeks waxing. Finally pushing those disturbing images into a corner of her mind enough to think with some sense of reason, Lydia tried to determine if there were any way to know what Zach had done to make himself smooth and sexy for her.
His letter! She reached for the letter, re-reading it carefully. One phrase caught her attention:
". . . the work it took to prepare myself . . ."
A tiny hope sprang to her mind.
She nurtured that hope, rationalizing around it, feeling it grow stronger.
"Preparing myself" surely means he — himself — did whatever it was he did to get smooth between his sexy cheeks for me, right?
Lydia thought. She re-read that part of the letter again.
It sounded like he had to work to get the results displayed in the picture.
That's different from having someone
else
do the work, isn't it?
Isn't it?
It was so frustrating! She was in a one-sided conversation with herself, trying to convince herself that she was interpreting Zach's words as she wanted them interpreted.
If he somehow removed the hairs himself, that would be work, something he'd never done before. Doing that would surely be work, right?
Lydia couldn't know what he might have done. Shave? Maybe a home waxing kit?
Waxing my bikini line
definitely
qualifies as work,
she thought.
And he said it took work to prepare himself . . .
She still had not completely exhaled since the jealous thought entered her mind, but she knew she was getting there. In what was a decision necessary to keep from looping into jealous anxiety that some other woman had seen