It was the last business in the little strip mall. Bare Necessities. Olivia pulled into the parking lot at five minutes to ten, the opening time according to the salon's website. She was hoping to have a few minutes alone with the proprietor. A woman was just unlocking the door right at the top of the hour as she walked up to it. Good. At least a moment of privacy.
"Good morning," the woman said cheerfully as she held the door open. Olivia was grateful for the warm reception. Then the woman asked if she had an appointment. Olivia told her no, that she just had some questions.
"I'm Michelle," she said, offering her hand. "What can I do for you?"
Olivia shook Michelle's hand.
"I was thinking about getting a... Brazilian. I've never had one but..."
Michelle offered her a friendly smile. Her warmth was obviously natural, and Olivia supposed she was used to dealing with embarrassed queries from women who had never had their pussies waxed before. Her face was round and pleasant. Her hair long and blonde. Her curves, displayed in her thighs and her derriere, suited to her short stature. She was objectively alluring, Olivia thought, despite having no particular attraction to women.
"What makes you want a waxing?" Michelle asked her simply.
"Well... I think my husband would like it."
"I see. And he's indicated that he likes that?"
"Not exactly... it's just that... he doesn't..."
The woman looked at Olivia sympathetically.
"Oh. Oral? Is that it?"
Olivia blushed. Michelle laughed easily.
"Don't! I've heard it before."
Olivia heard a car door just outside and glanced nervously over her shoulder. It was just someone leaving.
"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I just feel very self-conscious here and discussing this."
Michelle reached out with an easy touch. Now there did come the sound of the door. A young brunette walked in and began browsing the products on the wall.
"Tell you what. My last appointment is at five-thirty. We close at six, but if you like you can come back and I'll lock up behind you and we can discuss this further in private. No one will walk in."
Olivia knew her grateful expression said it all.
She was back, just before six. Michelle was just finishing up with another client. As Olivia hung up her coat she heard the door being locked behind her. With a broad smile, Michelle led her to the back room. There was a table, obviously for the person to be waxed, but the woman sat on a sofa and motioned her to do the same. There, a little chit-chat. Then, Olivia asked her a question.
"Does it hurt much?"
"A little," Michelle conceded, "but it's not that bad. I get waxed every four weeks."
"Why do you do it?"
"Because I have way too much bush otherwise," she said with a laugh, "and just keeping it reasonably trimmed is a hassle."
