The Beginning

Author's note: Consider the story below romanticized autobiography-a window into my intimate personal routine and thoughts. It is both arousing and scary to share something this personal so I hope you enjoy. The story is short, and ends abruptly, but I promise it will continue (it did in real life). Your comments are always welcome! -Carol

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Most of my friends HATE grooming. Bring up depilation at a girls night out and you will get nothing but a torrent of groans and complaints about nicks, razor rash, painful waxing, terrifying electric depilators or expensive laser treatments. But for me grooming is an autoerotic exercise-an intimate and arousing ritual that I relish and anticipate.

First of all I don't shave my legs and underarms in the shower as I rush to prepare for work. Years ago, I enlarged my bathroom. I knocked out a wall and installed a floor-to-ceiling bay window facing the woods behind my house. The boring white bath/shower (with genuine plastic surround) went into the trash. In its place, a beautiful free-standing claw-foot tub with carved feet and solid brass fixtures now stands framed by the window. When I groom, it is under the stars, reclined luxuriously in hot, lavender-scented water and surrounded by candles and soft jazz.

Nor do I shave my legs mechanically as if performing a much-resented chore. Rather, I lovingly slide the razor along the curves of my calves and thighs, testing the smoothness of each patch of freshly shaved skin with the same intensity as when I caress the super soft skin of a lover's penis.

Shaving my lips smooth and shaping the dark curls on my mons pubis used to be frustrating because I couldn't see what I was doing. Then I found a large mirror on an adjustable arm that mounts on the side of my claw-foot tub. Now the view is amazing-so amazing that I often masturbate watching myself. Call me the ultimate narcissist but experiencing an orgasm while watching my cunt spasm, and cum drool out of me with each contraction, is breathtaking. The only thing more arousing is giving a young man his first blowjob, hearing his moans and feeling his taut body shudder as his semen spurts into my mouth.

But I digress. Now I can position the mirror to clearly see my lips as the razor slides over them, or my hips and pubic area as I trim and shape my jet black curls.

I sometimes think my body must be ultra-tuned to erotic sensations. Even plucking the occasional errant hairs that sprout from and around my areolae is accompanied by bolts of pleasure that shoot from my breast to within my vaginal cavity. I cherish the sensation so much I will often extend the experience by grasping the hair in the tweezers and pulling slowly instead of plucking, stretching the sensitive skin. The connection to my cunt is powerful and I relish the feeling of my vaginal walls thickening and lubricating as I breathe through the pain.

Sliding a finger in and out of my anus during this rite is excruciatingly pleasurable and I rarely resist.

But this story really begins in my bedroom with me standing nearly naked in front of my full length mirror. Warm from my bath, flushed and aroused from my grooming rituals, I was admiring the black rectangular patch of trimmed pubic hair through my sheer yellow panties and imagining the affect the site would have on a hormone driven college kid.

I remember wondering what my admirers actually saw. Feeling wicked I grabbed a very short floral print mini dress from my closet and slipped it over my head. I placed a chair about 6 feet from the mirror. When I sat down I was delighted that the dark patch of pubic hair was clearly visible below the hem of my dress. I spread my legs feeling my outer lips slowly pull apart. I looked up expecting to see the delicious view I had just seen in my bath mirror but my open cunt was obscured by the cotton panel of the panties. Disappointed, I sat slumped in the chair ,thinking. Then an idea struck. I grabbed the seam ripper from my sewing kit, stripped the panties off, and carefully removed the panel. The panties were now totally sheer. I slipped them back on and sat down.

My heart was pounding, my eyes riveted on the reflection of my own crotch. Slowly I opened my legs. My slit appeared, outer lips swollen, puffy, creating a subtle double mound in the crotch of my panties. As my knees drew further apart a splash of deep pink appeared. I leaned back, my ass sliding forward. As my knees separated further, my inner lips peeled apart and liquid slid slowly out of me creating a wet spot on my panties. I was so hot my hands trembled as I slid a pair of high-heeled sandals onto my feet. I grabbed my purse and headed to Starbucks.