Nice time of the month
- or --
The best a girl can get
(A companion story to Careful what you ask for)
Lorna, like any other woman, did not look forward to her 'time of the month'. But she did look forward all month to her 'Nice Time of the Month'. It was several years since she first decided out of excitedly embarrassed curiosity to shave herself 'Down South' to see what it felt like. Although very ticklish, she had thoroughly enjoyed the sensation of shaving off her pubic hair and she had especially loved the gorgeously smooth feel of her newly shaved private against her satin pants that she always loved to wear. She had also loved the feel of her silky-smooth skin against the stretchy white cotton and lycra pants she wore under her ballet tights the first time she had danced with her pussy shaved. She had loved the whole experience so much that she let her hair re-grow so she could have it all over again. She kept on doing it so that whereas when she started her pubic hair took six weeks to fully re-grow, she could now shave it every four weeks midway between her periods.
She had been sharing her pleasure with Steve since the unusual circumstances of their first meeting* and now they both looked forward all month to Lorna's Nice Time of the Month, when they would shave each other and enjoy whatever other erotic pleasures they could think up between them. Tonight was The Night, and it was hard for both of them to concentrate on work while their heads were buzzing with all kinds of erotic ideas, which they had no hesitation in texting to each other at the earliest opportunity.
As the day progressed their messages to-ing and fro-ing between them became more and more explicitly kinky in their content. Lorna was working on client files in her office when Steve's latest statement of intent arrived on her mobile. He was an assiduous texter but philosophically opposed to text speak, which meant that every pleasure-inducing word was spelled out in full.
"I would love to discover what it feels like to put my fingers inside you as I shave you. The idea of sandwiching your hot, vibrant flesh between the warmth of my fingers and the cold steel of the razor blade is incredibly exciting."
Lorna's fingers trembled on her mobile's keypad as she answered back, also spelling out every word in full for their shared pleasure.
"I want to massage your newly-shaved dick with my love juices. I want to feel the perfect newly shaved smoothness of your rock-hard throbbing meat as I stroke it and rub it against my newly shaved pussy before I put you inside my hot and hungry cunt. I only hope you don't cut my lips off beforehand because I'll be squirming and screaming so much when you're tickling me as you shave me."
She was already flushed and trembling with excitement as she sent her text, but his response was too much for her to cope with any longer.
"I can tie you down on the bed so tightly you'll be unable to move no matter how much you try to squirm, and gag you so firmly you will only mew like a kitten however much you try to scream. "
She could only contain herself enough to text back "YES! YES! YES!" before she had to scamper to the lady partner's room. She locked herself in the cubicle furthest from the door. She pulled her pants down, sat on the toilet, clamped her left hand as firmly as she could over her mouth and thrust the middle three fingers of her right hand up between her trembling thighs and straight into the hot, wet tingly throb of her vagina. She clamped her muscles, kept incredibly fit and strong by her years of ballet training -- as Steve could wincingly testify to -- onto her fingers and massaged herself furiously on them as she thrust them forcefully up and down within herself. She drove herself half-crazy with thoughts of tying him up and gagging him, of masturbating him and enveloping his hugeness inside herself, of feeling and stroking his hairy genitals and groin while she shaved them. With each up stroke she ground herself into the palm of her hand while she rubbed the pulsating, velvet-smooth pleasure factory of her G-spot and made frantic little mewing noises into her self-administered gag that almost sounded like she was being kidnapped.
After what seemed like an age of being in the state of exquisite torture on the frustrated brink of fulfilment, she finally came with three muffled "Mmmphs" stifled at birth in the tight grip of her palm. The torrent of her juices bathed her fingers and sluiced out of her as she withdrew them like little subterranean creatures pale and blind from the warm, moist cave where they had sought shelter. As waves of relief flowed all through her, she gave in to the urge to empty her bladder and a warm waterfall cascaded down from between her shaking thighs as the issue from her bladder and her vagina mingled and mixed together.
Still breathing heavily as she washed herself with water from the toilet after flushing it and then dried herself with thick pads of folded toilet paper, she gave a silent prayer of thanks for her mother's pearl of good advice to always have a spare pair of pants to hand. She slipped off her slickly sopping white satin pants and washed them in the clean water in the toilet bowl. She wrung them out, wrapped them in several layers of sanitary towel bags and stuffed them into the bottom of her handbag in place of the clean pair she now put on. Deeply grateful that she had been alone for the whole time, she washed her hands thoroughly at the sink as if nothing unusual had happened and went back to her office doing her best to suppress the floating feeling inside her.
Louise, her secretary, couldn't help but notice the unusual brightness shining in her eyes and the spring in her step as she glided past.
"You look like you're in love," she called after her with a totally deadpan delivery. Then they both laughed as a rolled up ball of copier paper aimed with deadly accuracy by Lorna bounced off her head and was expertly caught by the long stems of the flower arrangement on the windowsill.