I know how much Adam loves a smooth pussy. That's why I was so surprised when he asked me to stop shaving it. Being a man of few words when it comes to sex, he told me very bluntly one day that a shaved pussy wasn't all that pleasant for him because after a couple days' growth, it was "like French kissing a cat." How he would know that, I don't even want to speculate!
Personally, I like a smooth twat. Removing pubic hair is like taking off the last layer of clothing. It leaves nothing to get in the way of his hands, his cock, his tongue. There's nothing quite like the first time he goes down on my freshly shaved lips. I can tell when my man enjoys it. He lets his tongue linger around my clit; he explores the folds of my pussy like a delicacy. Without natures fine fur, I feel every lick, every flick, and every lap of his tongue with so much more intensity.
Now, I do love the man and I go out of my way to make him happy quite often. He's worth the effort. However, as I said, I like being clean-shaven. I just don't get around to it every day. And it's not that we have wild, animal sex every day either!
Well, I shared my little dilemma with my friend and beautician, Jena. Jena is from Russia and she never hesitates to tell me in her broken English just how foolish we Americans are about some things.
"You Americans haven't got a clue about sex, do you?" she asked with a laugh. "Ok, Miss Jena-from-Russia-who-thinks-I-don't-know-anything-about-sex, what is your suggestion? Do I let the hair grow as he asked or do I shave everyday to make myself happy? I know it's not an issue of international importance, but it's important to me!"
Again, she laughed at me. Yes, I was starting to feel silly.
"Emily," she said, "I want you and Adam at my salon on Friday evening after you're done work. I will show you a better way to give both of you what you want. But you and he must both promise me you will be very open-minded and trust me. Ok?"
"Ok. We'll be there at seven," I said.
Great! Now all I had to do is figure out a way to get Adam to the beauty salon!
"Honey, could you drive me to the salon after work? I'm getting my nails done and I hate driving afterward. You know how easy it is to mess up fresh polish... and I'll only be a little while and then we can grab some dinner after... Ok?"
Well, it only took a little more whining and pouting but Adam agreed to drive me to the salon and wait in the car for me. Ok, now I just needed to coax him into the building. Oh, good grief! Suppose this goes bad! What does Jena have in mind? I was getting just a little nervous, like maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all!
Adam dropped me off at the entrance to the salon right on the dot of seven. I gave him a quick kiss as I was getting out of the car but I still had no idea how to get him into the building. Adam drove off to park the car and I went inside.
Jena was waiting for me. She looked very professional in her white "technicians" lab coat but when she saw I was alone she frowned and started shaking her head.
"And where is Adam?" she asked sternly.
All I could do was mutter weakly something about him waiting outside.
"Never mind! I will bring him in. But first, you will follow me," she commanded.
Feeling way too intimidated to argue I obediently followed Jena up the stairs where it was dimly lit and very quiet. There was soft jazz playing somewhere and I could smell a gentle, flowery fragrance from a handful of burning candles nestled on a table in the corner of the wide hallway. I had never been up the stairs before. Evidently, the good stuff was going on up here!
Jena took me to a small room at the end of the hallway. It too was dimly lit with a few candles and I could still hear the soft music. It looked much like any living room with a sofa, two end tables and a couple of lamps. The only window was draped with very heavy but elegant draperies. It could have been a very nice room for entertaining except for the "examination" type table in the center of the room that was covered in disposable paper - just like the kind my gynecologist uses! Chills started going up and down my spine!
Beside the table was a cart that held several scary looking pieces of metal that just screamed "instrument of pain" to me. There was also a small bowl that resembled a miniature crock pot. On the other side of the table was a floor lamp with a magnifying mirror attached.
