Time for a Vasectomy

I've been married (and divorced) three times. While I was married to Wife #2, we decided that I should get a vasectomy. And, of course, when I say "we" I mean "she."

I went to the doctor and set up all the preliminary stuff and scheduled it for a Friday. I told my wife on the way home that I had to be shaved before I get to the clinic because they don't do that for you. My idea was that she could take care of it for me and we could have some fun out of it. Of course, she was not interested. "You can do that yourself!" she said.

While we discussed my vasectomy, I told her not to mention it to anyone. It's no one's business but ours, I figured. She agreed.

A couple of days later, I come home and her best friend from across the street, Nancy, was there and they were laughing about something. When I got closer, I found out what it was: they were laughing about my upcoming vasectomy. My wife also pointed out that I wold have to shave myself because she damn sure wouldn't do it for me.

After Nancy left, we had a big argument. She was of the opinion that telling Nancy was okay and didn't violate our agreement not to tell anyone. Whatever.

A couple of days later, I was at the mailboxes and Nancy approached me. She said, "I know you're upset about her telling me, but I have to admit that it's always been my fantasy to shave a man. I've never had the chance because my husband won't let me. I was hoping that you'd let me do it for you."

That was unexpected to say the least.

"With one condition: I shave you first." I figured that would be a dealbreaker, but she agreed to it readily.

Eventually, we agreed to go through with it with the understanding that we would not tell anyone and there would be no sex. Her husband was still deployed and gone for another month, so there would be no problem there. I just had to convince my wife to go shopping at the time (no problem there).

The night before my surgery, I went to Nancy's house. She met me in the doorway wearing a big, fluffy, pink robe. I could tell by the look on her face that she was having second thoughts. She invited me in and she began to explain how she couldn't go through with it and that she was sorry she ever mentioned it. I told her that was okay and we just sat and talked and had a few laughs about it. I was getting ready to say my goodbyes when she stood up and took off her robe.

"This might be my only chance to do this and I don't want to miss it," she said. She wasn't Playboy material, but she had a really nice body. And, I noticed, the biggest thickest bush I've ever seen.

As she led me by the hand down the hallway, I said, "I might need a Weed Eater for that thing. Maybe even a riding lawn mower!" We had a few laughs and she helped me undress.

She laid down on the bed and I started with scissors to try and trim it down to a point that I could even think about using a razor. It took a while, but once I had her almost completely bare, I could tell that she was really getting turned on. She just couldn't be still. She told me to hurry up and finish so she could get started. Once I was done, I decided to "up the ante." I put my face between her legs and went to work.

At first, I thought she would push me away, but she was really into it by then. Finally, I stood up and said, "My turn."

She got up and she was still breathing hard and her face was flushed. I laid down and she began to shave me. Once I was shaved clean, she returned the favor and went down on me. I have to admit that was the best oral sex I have ever had. She was the most talented at giving head

that I have ever had. Not only did she blow me, but she swallowed, too. What more could I ask for?

We took a shower together and when my erection returned (which didn't take as long as I thought it would) we had sex in the shower. When I finally left, I was exhausted.

I had the surgery the next day and a few days later, Nancy came over and asked if she could see my scars. To my surprise, my wife was all for it. So I dropped my pants and the three of us discussed my incisions.

We never had the chance to enjoy doing that again, even though we had talked about it a few times while I was recovering. Her husband got transferred and I figured our little secret would remain a secret. However, the day they moved out, Nancy had an attack of conscience and confessed all to my wife.

That, of course, is how Wife #2 became Ex-wife #2.