It's a sunny afternoon. I lay back on my couch, letting my eyes take a break from the book I'm reading as I rest it on my chest. The large front window pours sunlight over me, making me feel warm and relaxed. I'm just starting to consider maybe ordering food and having a quiet night in when I hear three sharp raps on the door and my heart skips a beat.
My feet barely seem to touch the floor as I hasten to open the door to see him. Tall, slender, and lean, with tawny hair and puppy-like brown eyes with a mischievous spark in them. He looks me over.
"What are you doing tonight?" he asks, eyes roaming from my chest, down my body to my fluffy-socked-feet, and bouncing back up to my bum. He seems disappointed in my choice of comfortable clothing, but I really didn't know he was going to come over, or I would've put a bit of effort in.
"Funny you should ask, I was just thinking about spending the night in." My voice lilts at the end of the sentence, almost becoming a question as I wonder what he has planned.
"I have a much better idea," he replies, pushing me inside and shutting the door behind him. I hear his bag drop to the floor with a soft thunk. His hands fondle my bum for a moment before he gingerly pushes me back onto the couch, my book toppling to the floor, forgotten.
He brings my legs together and pulls at the waistband of my track pants, his eyes meeting mine. He pauses like that, tilts his head and raises his eyebrows.
I nod.
He pulls my pants roughly down my legs, deftly sliding his fingers under my underwear as well, leaving my bottom half naked except for my fluffy bed socks. He pulls my legs apart and inspects my pussy, pink and glistening in the sunlight.
"This won't do," he says playfully, caressing my mound. "When was the last time you shaved?"
My cheeks redden. "Umm... a week or two, maybe?"
"You know I like a clean-shaven pussy," he says in a matter-of-fact tone. "What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to shave my pussy so you can have your way with it, sir," I giggle nervously.
"Hmm... actually, you sound anxious, and I wouldn't want your shaky little hands to make any mistakes. Best if I do it, huh?" his finger slowly circles my labia as he thinks out loud.
"Yes, sir," I say. I am shaking a little. Usually he only cares about my public hair if someone else might see us, which makes me excited and nervous. Trying to surreptitiously get more information, I say breathily, "I wouldn't want anyone to see the mess I'd make of it right now."
Without another word, he stands, and offers me his hand. I take it, and he pulls me up and leads me to the bathroom. He gently pulls my t-shirt over my head, taking a moment to admire my chest. He playfully flicks one of my nipples, making me shiver, and his lip curls upwards.
"Sit," he commands, turning to get the razor and shaving cream.
I sit, legs wide open, on the closed toilet seat. I pull off my socks and toss them near where he discarded my shirt. He gently pulls my labia and rubs in some shaving cream slowly, slyly slipping two fingers into my slit as he massages it in.
"You're already so wet, you fucking slut."
"Yes sir," I breathe.
The razor is cold on my skin. I fight the urge to flinch each time he swipes, not wanting to make his job more difficult. "Good little slut," he purrs as he carefully removes the short, dark hairs.
We sit like that for five or so minutes, him quietly working, and me trying to control myself, knowing that a reward will come if I'm good.
"Up," he says after the last swipe.
I stand, shivering a little, partly with anticipation and partly because it's getting chilly. I watch him turn the shower on and grab the shower head, using it to motion that I get in. I do so, and he points the stream at my freshly shaved pussy, removing any remaining cream and loose hairs. He slides his finger up and down my slit again, and I know he can feel the heat and wetness radiating from my pussy.
Once he's satisfied that there's nothing left, he puts the shower head back and starts rubbing soap into my back.
"I want you to be nice and clean," he explains.
I close my eyes and lean back into the water. I rinse my body, enjoying the fact that he's watching me, knowing he loves how my naked body looks. I pass my hand over my pussy, now smooth, and admire how well he's shaved it; I can't feel any bumps.
"Did I say you could touch yourself?" he asks almost playfully.
"No sir, I'm sorry, I just wanted to feel how well you did," I apologise.
"Very well," he says. "I'll let it slide. I think you're as clean as you're gonna get now, dirty little slut."
He abruptly shuts the water off and my eyes snap open at the sudden cool air on my wet body. I step out of the shower.
"May I dry myself off?"
"Let me."
He takes my soft blue towel and starts patting my body dry, taking a particularly long time at my chest and my crotch. Once he's satisfied, he hangs my towel back up and turns back around with a tube of moisturiser. He squeezes a dab into his hand and gently lathers it into my freshly shaved skin.
"I want you looking your best," he says, massaging moisturiser into my outer lips as I quiver. "Are you nervous?"
"Yes sir, a little."
"You know you're safe with me."
"I know, sir."
He smiles and I feel a bit less anxious. I smile back. He takes my hand in his; it's a little sticky. He leads me back into the lounge room. The sun has started to set, but it's still quite warm in here. He pushes me onto the couch, my head resting on the end, legs splayed. He pulls my legs properly apart so that my pussy is fully exposed to the window and any passers by. He gets up and rummages in his bag for a moment, turning around with his camera.
"Stay just like that." I can feel the colour rushing to my cheeks again as the camera clicks multiple times.
