A Creative Challenge

"Do I still get my $44 for this morning's session?"

"Why not, you more than earned it," I said, "And I don't mean for what happened after I stopped drawing." I added quickly.

"No, I know you didn't mean that. I just thought that maybe because you're letting me stay here rent-free, in return you might be expecting me to model for you for nothing. I would if you wanted me to, but I still need money to get my own place, so...."

"Of course you still get paid." I interrupted her. "Actually, I was thinking of putting your hourly rate up. For the drawings I got out of this morning, $22 an hour is far too cheap."

"Really? That'd be great, Sam. Thanks. Most of the artists I work for are amateurs who aren't starving and I reckon they would all be willing to pay a bit more, but I don't think Steve is a very good agent because he isn't game to put our rates up. Trouble is, he's the only art model agent in this city, and he has some strange ideas."

We were still in the studio, sprawled on the big sofa against the back wall, feeling very relaxed and warm inside. Amy was lying back against me with my arm around her, and I was gently stroking one of her tits, which she seemed very happy to let me do.

"Like what?" I asked.

"Well, for instance, one of his 'rules' is that to model for his clients, you have to have pubic hair. He says he had complaints about models who shaved their pussies because they looked like lap dancers or porn stars."

"I think that's bullshit." I said. "I can't imagine any artist complaining about a model not having enough body hair. If you study art history, you can look at any classical nude painted before the 20th century and none of the models had pubic hair. It wasn't just that artists like Rubens and Botticelli and Michelangelo pretended they couldn't see it, their models didn't have any. Men didn't shave their pubic hair, because you can see that in old paintings and sculptures, but bald pubes were fashionable for women for centuries, right up until the Victorians. I think Steve just likes hairy women."

"So do I, but if you want art model work in this town, you play by Steve's rules. When I first decided to model my way through college, he wouldn't book me for any of his clients until I grew some pubic hair back."

"Did you used to shave yours off before?"

"Totally. I was really pissed off about having to go wild and woolly again, but what can you do?"

Steve's personal little fetish helped to explain why most of the art models I had worked with went for the no-make-up and minimal-grooming hippy look. That meant a full shaggy bush of pubic hair, and in some cases, hairy underarms and hairy legs as well. Amy was more groomed than most, because she shaved her legs and armpits and kept her pubes trimmed fairly short.

"What can you do? I don't know what YOU can do, but I'll tell you what I can do. I'll tell Steve that from now on I want 'classical' art nudes and I'll only book models that have no body hair at all. That should fix him."

"Would you do that?" She sat up, very taken with that idea. "But you won't have many models to choose from. None, in fact."

"I only need one model right now – you – and we can make sure you meet my new standards in no time."

"Sam, are you offering to shave me?"

"Is that all right with you?"

"If you want to. Now?"

"Why not? I'll go get a razor and some shaving cream, we can do it in here."

Amy looked very stern for a moment and said, "Show me your hands."

"Why?"

"I want to make sure they're not shaking too much after such strenuous activity," she grinned.

I fetched a couple of towels, a new Mach3 razor, some shaving cream, a shaving brush, and a bowl of warm water, and took them back to the studio. Amy was already laying back on the couch with her legs apart.

"Now there's a pretty sight for sore eyes," I said, as I spread one of the towels underneath her and knelt down between her thighs. I squeezed some of the cream from the tube straight onto her pubic mound, and worked it into a lather with the warm wet brush. Amy closed her eyes and started breathing heavily almost straight away.

"Hey, don't get off again just yet, I can't do this if you're thrashing around," I said.

"Well, take it easy on my clit with that brush, then," she replied. "Sam, why do so many men love smooth shaved pussies so much?"

"Why do so many women?" I asked in reply.

"That's easy. Because it feels cleaner, and it makes the area more sensitive, which means sex feels better, especially when someone is eating your pussy. But that isn't what appeals to men, is it?"

"Yes it is, at least partly. Eating a hairy pussy is a bit like what I imagine kissing a man with a beard feels like – and I have never fancied doing that. Smooth pussy is so much nicer to eat. And you don't get pubes stuck in your teeth."

"OK, we agree that eating pussy when it's bald feels nicer for both of us, but there's more to it than that, isn't there? Some women say that all men are closet child molesters and a hairless pussy makes them sexually excited because it's a sign that the girl is still a child who has not yet reached puberty. I hope that's not true, is it?"

"Well, now that you mention it, do you have a little sister? Ouch!" Amy had quickly clouted me round the back of my head. "Joke, Amy, joke."

"You men are disgusting creatures, I've a good mind to grow my pubes really long and let them turn into dreadlocks. Sam, smoothness isn't attractive to men because it makes us look like jailbait, is it?"

By now I was carefully shaving down her pubic area, in the same direction as the hair growth, rinsing the razor carefully between each short stroke. The Mach3 left smooth skin in its path.

"I wondered about that myself. I've always been very turned on by a completely smooth and hairless pussy, and I used to think that maybe it was a sort of perversion and that it was somehow connected with being a paedophile. But now I know that's not true, at least in my case. When my daughter was born, I remember being a bit worried in case I became sexually aroused by her as she grew up, but that was such a ridiculous fear in the end. I learned pretty quickly that I am not at all turned on by pre-adolescent girls. A bald pussy on a woman is a huge turn-on, though."

"So, do you know why?"

"Not for sure, I don't, but I have some ideas about that. I know it's not hard-wired into our genes as an evolved human male physiological response, because not everyone likes the bald look, even though I know shaving and waxing is much more popular again these days. It's fashionable, it's part of the culture today, but it's still a personal preference. I had a friend in college who was amazingly turned on by extra hairy pubes on women, he loved it when a woman's pubic hair was a thick mat that grew out and up as far as her navel and down her thighs towards her knees."

"Oh, yuck. You're kidding."

"I'm not. Just the idea of that would make him go weak at the knees. Otherwise normal guy."

"But, on the other hand, you...," she prompted.

"But on the other hand, I go weak at YOUR knees."

Amy had a very pretty smile, and the room lit up when she laughed.

"Very funny, but you're not answering my question."

Both of us found it very hard to concentrate on conversation at this point, because I had finished the actual shaving, and with soapy fingers I was carefully and slowly checking every inch of the skin around her pussy with my fingertips, a process which was obviously as pleasant for her as it was for me. I paid particular attention to the area just around and above her clit, and then I tidied up the few remaining bits of stubble I had missed, and wiped her now exquisitely bald pussy gently with the towel.

"I think that's done. Make sure I haven't missed any bits, then flip yourself over."

"What for?" she asked, in obvious anticipation.

"If I'm to do the job properly I have to shave your ass-crack, too."

I could tell that was not the answer she was hoping for, but she did what I asked, feeling carefully for any stubble round her pussy, but not finding any. Then she knelt up on the dais, with her knees apart, her head and chest down, and her ass sticking up in the air.

"OK," she said, "if you're sure you want to do that bit as well."

"Of course I do. When I do a job I finish it off properly."

"That wasn't the kind of finishing off I had in mind."

"I know it wasn't, but you'll have to be patient."

Amy had been doing a less efficient job of keeping the hair around her ass trimmed and neat, which told me that she must have been doing it for herself. Craig obviously hadn't been helping her, which told me he wasn't as keen on bald pussy as I am. I put some shaving cream on the brush and started lathering her up. Her pussy was glistening and almost dripping by now, and with my head so close to it she smelled of sex. My cock, which had been like a length of metal pipe since I first had the idea of shaving her, now felt like it wanted to explode. I knew I wouldn't get the job finished at all at this rate unless I could distract both of us mentally for a few minutes at least.

"What was the question again?" I asked.

"I want to know why men love smooth shaved pussies so much."

"Well, for me it's both a visual and a tactile thing. When I was at school, dreaming of being an artist, I read books and went to galleries to look at paintings by old masters. They painted lots of nude women and I don't remember one of them that was painted with hair anywhere but on their head. You couldn't ever really see their pussies though, because they always discreetly had their knees together, but I knew what a pussy should look like because we had detailed drawings in our biology textbooks, which by the way also never showed any pubic hair. So women's bodies to me were always smooth and hairless – men were rough and hairy creatures, and women were the exact opposite. Then when I saw my first photos of nude women in men's magazines I remember thinking how ugly pubic hair was and... just wrong. It was an aberration, to me it just didn't belong on a woman's beautiful soft round smooth body. Amy, can you pull your butt cheeks apart for me?"

"You have no idea how undignified this feels, with you peering right up my asshole."

I could tell that she was nowhere near as embarrassed as she was trying to make out, and that this very intimate display for me was just one aspect of her exhibitionism and it was really exciting her. I gently rubbed the shaving cream all round her little puckered asshole, and stroked the opening with my finger.

"But it's such a lovely asshole."

"Thank you. You said it was a tactile thing, too."

"What, your asshole?"

"No, your liking for shaved pussy."

"So I did. How can I explain that... hmm... Imagine we're both eighteen years old and we're dating. My parents are out and we're necking on their sofa. I want to get into your pants, but I don't know if you are going to let me or not, or how far I'll get before you stop me. So we're kissing, and I have my hand on your waist. I slide it up under your T-shirt and my fingertips stroke your rib cage, then it creeps round your side a bit higher and I stroke the side of your breast through the material of your bra, and then I brush your nipple and squeeze it gently. You don't stop me, so I reach round behind you and with one hand unhook your bra."

"But I never wear a bra," she interrupted.

"Whose fantasy story is this?"

"Yours, Sam."

"Exactly. Now I slide my hand under your bra and stroke your breasts for a while. You like this and you are getting hot now and your skin is so soft and smooth under my fingertips I think I'm going to cream myself. Pretty soon I slide my hand down your belly and I run my finger in and around your belly button and down inside the waistband of your jeans. Your pants are too tight to get my whole hand down there but now I'm pretty sure you want me to touch you so I undo the button and slide down the zip and now my hand is on your pussy outside your panties..."

"Oh, this is so exciting, I love it when I'm kissing someone and they are undressing me with one hand and feeling me up at the same time – go on."

I had finished shaving her, and I had wiped the last bits of soap away, and was running my finger slowly up and down her sopping wet slit. Amy reached between her legs and rubbed her clit, breathing more heavily.

"...so I lift the elastic at the front of your panties and glide my finger down your silky skin towards the holy of holies, and ....aaaarrrggghhh!"

I let out a sudden shriek, and Amy jumped off the dais, stood up and turned round to look at me.

"What is it?" she said, eyes wide in alarm.

"Shag-pile carpet!" I said. "A rug, a forest of bristly pubic hair meets my fingers, all rough and tangled and matted, a barrier I have to fight my way through before I can get to the holy grail. Will he ever find the poor lost and neglected pussy? Is there a lonely clitoris yearning for human contact somewhere in that impenetrable jungle? Stay tuned for next week's exciting episode, folks."

"You're crazy. Certifiable." She was trying to be annoyed with me for startling her, but I could see in her eyes that she was amused by the sudden twist to the story. "A hairy pussy couldn't possibly feel that bad."

"Perhaps that is a slight exaggeration," I conceded. I stood up and put my hand onto Amy's stomach and then matched my actions to my words. "But it feels so much nicer without any rough bristles when I glide my fingertips down the soft skin of your belly past here where your pussy crease starts, over and down both sides of your clit, beyond the first folds of your pussy lips and into this slippery little pool of heavenly delight."

I slipped two fingers slowly into her now completely hairless vagina as far as they would go, and she put her arms round my neck and held on to me as her knees almost buckled under her with pleasure.

Straightening up, she pulled herself towards me and kissed me. My cock was trapped between us, pressed straight up against my stomach. I could feel the heat of her pussy on the base of its shaft as she pressed her hips into me. She had her feet and legs together, and hanging on to my neck she stood up on tiptoe and tilted her pelvis forward, trying to get her pussy over and onto the tip of my cock. She was not quite tall enough, so I bent my knees and lowered myself slightly. Amy opened her thighs just enough to let my cock between them a little way, then she closed them tight again. As she lowered herself back onto her heels, there was nowhere my cock could go except up into her pussy, which it did. When I straightened my knees again, we were face to face, chest to chest, and pelvis to pelvis with my cock fully inside her.

It felt sensational.

I hugged her to me while she rocked her hips slowly from side to side and then to and fro. You would not have seen much movement watching us together, but an inch or so either way felt like plenty. It was enough to start Amy making those little grunting noises, and as they got louder and more frequent, she held me tightly round neck and lifted her legs up, crossing them behind my back around my waist. I leaned back to balance her extra weight, which impaled her on me as deeply as it was possible for her to be. Using her arms and knees, she lifted herself up and almost off my cock, then lowered herself all the way down again with a long sighing grunt. All I had to do was stand still and support her with my hands under her buttocks. We both came very quickly and loudly, and afterwards Amy clung to me like a monkey while I held her, hoping my lower back would not give way. She squeezed my cock several times with her pussy muscles, which caused some of our juices to ooze out and run down my thigh.

"Hop off, Amy, we're leaking."

"No. Like it here."

"And my back's starting to hurt."

"That's what I get for fucking an old crock," she said with a smile as she eased her feet back to the ground and pulled herself off my cock. "You know, that could be a problem."

"What, me being an old crock?"

"No, sperm running down my leg and dripping onto the ground. That could be a real giveaway."

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about."

"I was just thinking we'll need to find a way to stop me leaking all over the place after the next time we fuck standing up like that."

"Why would it matter?"

"Because we'll be in a crowded subway at the time."