When Did You Start To Shave

This short story is not for readers who check to see if there is any "action" without having to scroll down. It is a first time for one of the girls, so it takes a while before each of them discovers that the other one is also just as eager to enjoy what two girls can do together. Of course, they are both at least eighteen years old.

* * *

"I am curious - if you don't mind? When did you start to shave? You know, down there."

Chris blushed at the question of her college freshman roommate. She and Pat had only met a few days before. When they were undressing the first evening, she had suddenly remembered that her shaven pussy could surprise Pat. They weren't facing each other, so Pat couldn't see that she blushed as they were taking of their last clothing, but it would have been awkward for Chris to try to hide her bare pussy, since Pat seemed to assume that they would be as unconcerned about nudity as all the girls in high school had been after sports.

Pat must have noticed, but to Chris's relief she hadn't said anything, and also didn't the following days, even though it was obvious that they were seeing each other naked. Chris thought they both had similar figures. Blond Pat's nipples were pink with larger areola than her own smaller, almost brown ones around her tight little nipples. Chris anticipated, however, that eventually Pat would ask something about her shaving, when they became better acquainted. She didn't want to call attention to it, but her dark pubic hair was growing, so finally Friday evening, when she was alone in their small bathroom, she shaved again.

Had she anticipated that her freshly shaven pussy would elicit Pat's question:

"When did you start to shave? You know, down there."

Chris blushed, despite her knowing that one day she was going to have to explain. Pat's question was at least easy to answer:

"This summer," she replied with a slightly wry expression.

"Don't know anyone else who does; just had to ask."

"That's all right; I knew you must have been wondering."

"I sure have been!" Pat replied, looking like she was relieved that Chris hadn't been upset by her question.

Chris was also relieved that Pat had finally asked and found herself wanting to say more:

"Not all at once. I bought a new bikini in the spring, trying it on over underpants. You know the kind of cotton ones Mom used to buy for me."

Pat nodded with a grin, enjoining:

"Like my mom did, bigger than any bikini bottom."

"Exactly! The first time I put on the bikini - luckily at home - I discovered that my hair showed at the top; had to quickly grab my razor and scrape it off. That was no problem, but then at the pool I saw woman with a few hairs curling out between her thighs. Shit! Mine could do that! I have a lot - before I shaved. You're lucky; not so much and just light tan; they wouldn't show like mine would."

Pat nodded. Inadvertently her fingers passed over her pubic hair that was so sparse that Chris could recognize her slit - not for the first time. Softly, unthinkingly she murmured:

"Couldn't have seen mine."

She then blushed at the realization of what she she had said, that she had admitted that she had been looking at Pat's pussy. She tried to deflect from that:

"Yeah, so at home I checked if my hairs down there could slip out. They could, so I trimmed them with my nail scissors."

"They hadn't at the pool, I hope."

"Not as much as I do!"

"And then? You shaved them all off," Pat remarked.

"Hmm? Yeah. My girlfriend's older sister had been to Europe and seen that some girls do."

"They do, and she saw them?!"

"In France, I think, somewhere were some people don't wear anything."

"Bet she didn't tell their mom that she went there."

"I doubt it, but she told her sister, . . . and, well, she didn't have the problem I had, but . . . well, she thought it was a good idea, so we both did."

"Shave it all off?" Pat asked.

"Um-hmm, thought it would be more difficult than it was, than it is."

Pat smirked and replied:

"I didn't ask that, but thanks for telling me."

"You don't need to. I like that I do - not need to, but that I do it."

Chris's hand unconsciously rubbed over her smooth mound. Pat smiled slightly and replied:

"A couple of girls at school had too much, well, I thought so; didn't look girlish. Hm-hmm! Even though the rest of them did."

Pat raised her hands under her breasts, gesturing that those girls had had bigger ones. They both chuckled, and Chris agreed:

"Like a couple in my class, more there and sooner than the rest of us. Can't remember about their hair."

They both smiled with shrugs. Pat used the bathroom, and they went to bed. That was the first night Chris ventured to start to masturbate in the darkened room with Pat.

She thought Pat wouldn't notice, and she didn't seem to, but then Chris noticed suggestive noises from Pat's bed, making her wonder if she had heard her first and tacitly agreed that now they were intimate enough to do what they both had been wanting to do since they met. Chris thought so and let a soft moan escape, delighted when she heard one from Pat. A couple of more moans were exchanged. Then Chis was surprised to hear Pat murmur:

"I'm glad that you want to, too."

"Me too, that you do."

"Uhmmm! And how! Almost a week without."

"Me too. Enjoy!"

"You too!"

They both did with then open moans, exchanging encouraging sounding chuckles, when they heard the other's aroused moan. Then they were each too aroused by what their fingers were doing to be conscious of the noises of the other's pending orgasm. When they had had them, they both giggled uncontrollably and then agreed that they had never thought they would do that with each other, pleased and then sleeping soundly.

In the early morning, Chris recalled what she and her girlfriend had done together, but that didn't diminish her delight about what she and Pat had done; it just suggested what else they might do together. Would Pat want to, she wondered, hoping that she would. When Pat woke up, she cheerfully remarked:

"Oh that was good! I needed that, better than most times, knowing you were too."

"It sure was, same way, with you too," Chris agreed grinning to herself as she silently thanked someone for making them roommates.

They got up, chuckling and exchanging smirks as they both openly perused each other's body. When Pat's nipples popped out, she just smiled and rubbed them. Chris nodded, tempted to say something about them, but didn't.

Alone in the bathroom, she wondered what she might have said: just that she liked them; even suggest that it was good that Pat had rubbed them before she did? If she did that - got to do that - she wouldn't want to just rub them; she knew that she would want to suck them like she had her girlfriend's. And that wasn't all they had done! Would Pat also want to? Had she done anything with another girl? At least, she hadn't been shocked that they both wanted to masturbate. How did she do it? Good, from the sounds of her moans, however she did it.

Saturday morning they had lectures and went their separate ways, meeting for lunch. When Pat smirked slightly, Chris did, liking that Pat had and wondering if she had also been wondering about her experience, what she had said about her girlfriend, that they had both decided to shave their pussies. Could Pat have wondered about that, envisioned that they had helped each other the first time? Chris hoped so. If Pat decided she wanted to shave hers, she would be more than willing to help, hoping the intimacy would lead to more, like it had with her girlfriend.

Suddenly, for the first time, it occurred to Chris that maybe that hadn't just happened, that her girlfriend could have been the one to want it to. Had her sister told her more than just about shaven pussies, something she had done in France, not just told her, shown her?

That all went through her head while she and Pat were standing in line to be served. Chris gave her another little smirk and shrugged at all her own questions, Pat winked with a shrug. She couldn't know what Chris had been thinking, but to Chris it seemed like she could have been reading her thoughts.

During lunch, they talked about their new courses and then about how to spend the afternoon. They agreed to look at the stands for extracurricular activities that older students had set up for freshmen. They found them interesting, especially the ones that didn't just hand out information and forms to register: the theater group in costumes and others that could display their activities. One stand was about the freshmen mixer that evening, reminding them that they had seen an announcement for it in college newspaper that had been distributed to the freshmen dorms. Of course, they wanted to go.

After dinner, they worried about what to wear, but then found the announcement and the line: "Come as you are." They chuckled that someone had anticipated their question. After quick showers, they found something more attractive to wear. When Pat struggled a little to pull her polo shirt over her breasts, Chris joshed her, saying that she really want to put her best points forward. Pat excused herself, explaining that the shirt was a couple of years old. Chris's blouse was, however, just as form fitting.

At the mixer, they were surprised that beer was being offered. It wasn't sold directly to freshmen. An older student stood in front of the bar and asked what they wanted to drink. When freshmen asked for a beer, he ordered it, collecting the money and paying, then handing them the beers. It wasn't the first time the girls had drunk beer, so they had one and joined the crowd and talked to girls they had met in their dorm, then with the boys who joined them. They had another beer, more chatting. There was music, and some girls began to dance, then some of the boys. Chris and Pat finished their beers and also danced, pleased that a couple of the boys they had been talking with then danced with them.

They were upperclassmen and then offered them another beer, able to buy them themselves at the bar. After a few sips, they all returned to the dance floor with their beers. When the music got a little wilder, their dancing also did, flirtatious, sometimes hips moving suggestively. The girls grinned at each other and let the boys see them dancing with each other that way. When Pat raised her beer, almost toasting Chris, they both drank. That was when it occurred to Chris that the best part of the evening could still be ahead of them; not with the boys, of course, not before a few dates - at least three.

They turned back and danced with the boys, showing no preferences. When the music stopped, they all drank and the boys said that they had liked the way the girls danced. They finished their beers and exchanged names and cellphone numbers, calling each other to get them in their lists of contacts. That was enough suggestion that they might meet again, and the girls walked back to their dorm, chatting about the evening and their impressions of the boys. When Chris said that she had been a little surprised at how they had danced together, Pat agreed with a sly smile.

Back in their room, while they were undressing, Pat gave her another sly smile as they both were taking off their bras. Chris returned it and saw Pat's nice nipples pop out, disappointed that her little ones weren't so evident, although she felt that they were also erect. Had Pat still noticed? She hummed softly with a nod and circled hers with her fingers and murmured:

"I'm going to again. Beer, the boys, the dancing; I want to."

"Me too," Chris agreed and returned her hum - more like a soft moan - and added: "the dancing."

Pat nodded with a sighing hum. Then they both had to hurry to use the toilet, Pat first, Christ crowding in, while Pat washed her pussy, the first time they had been together in the small bathroom. Pat's ass was right in front of Chris's face. Nice round ass, she almost stroked it, recalling having been like that with her girlfriend. When Pat was finished, she washed her pussy, surprised that Pat stayed in the bathroom with her, more surprised, when Pat murmured:

"I'm so glad that we get along so well. I was worried, apprehensive. It didn't have to be this good, but - you know - well, this is this is even better."

"It sure is. I was worried too. What if my new roommate had been completely upset that I shave it, some girl from a very conservative background?"

"Don't want to think about what she would have thought of you. I don't; I like it," Pat replied.

"That's good. I do too," Chris replied.

She had been prolonging her washing and drying, not to interrupt their conversation. Pat's last words let her wonder if Pat just liked that that her pussy was shaved, or if she was implying that she liked her shaven pussy. She wiped it again with her towel; it had gone moist at that thought, and she felt her nipples tighten again. She turned and hung up her towel, surprised to see that Pat was holding her breast and that the fingers of her other hand were cupped around her pubic mound.

Chris liked the way it swelled out between her thighs, wishing her own also looked like those in paintings and the pictures of classical statues she had seen. Hers did a little, better than those of some of her high school classmates. Her girlfriend's didn't as much as Pat's, but when it was shaven, it looked very attractive, better than the paintings or statues, her slit showing.

Pat gave her a smirking grin and said:

"You have a nice figure, nice bottom."

"You do too," Chris replied, returning her grin and adding: "Almost wanted to touch yours, right there in front of my face."

"Hm-hmm! Would have been funny, but I wouldn't have minded. Let's got to bed."

They turned out the lights and did, both chuckling as their fingers found their pussies. For a minute or two, they were silent, except rustling of the covers on their hands. Chris was wondering if it would be different than the previous evening. She didn't have to moan yet, but did, hoping to hear one from Pat. It was more just a quizzical hum, and then Pat asked:

"What do you think about?"

Chris was thinking about what she and her girlfriend had done, envisioning that she and Pat would, but after a surprised "hmm?" she replied:

"About a guy."

"You did it with him?"

"Yeah. Have you?"

"With one. And you?"

"Two."

"Good?"

"Not really, but, well, that's what most girls say."

"Yeah, where I come from too."

After a short pause, Chris suggested:

"I hope it was better for you."

"Better than with your two?"

"I hope so."

"Maybe it was then."

"Want to tell?"

"Want to hear?"

"If you want to tell?"

"If you then do, even it they weren't so good."

"Okay. I don't think they were," Chris replied.

She heard Pat's rubbing for a few moments, and then her response:

"I think we were lucky. We'd been making out, his hand under my bra. Don't know what got into me, but I asked if we really wanted to do it. Oh, of course, it had sounded like everyone did senior year."

"Like in my school," Chris enjoined.

"Yeah. That was how it was. I guess he was surprised - oh, he was! People expect the guy to be more forward, and we were just good friends. Maybe that was good, better than thinking we were madly in love. We weren't."

"Don't have to be to want to make out as much as one can."

"Yeah, like that. Hm-hmm! And I guess I wanted it to be that much."

"Nothing beyond that. And . . .? You did."

"Yeah. Oh, it was easy. Kids tell about having to do it in the dark in a hurry, scared to be caught."

"You didn't?" Chris asked, now more interested in Pat's story than in trying to have her orgasm.

Pat paused for a moment, then continue:

"Nope. It was easy. His parents both worked. I just had to say that I was going somewhere, and then we there, in his house. Oh, it was quite strange. We had talked about it more than just that once and admitted that it would be the first time . So there we were, agreed that we wanted to do it, but then by the light of day, just taking off our clothes ...?"

Got to see more than I did," Chris suggested, adding: "We were in the dark. Hmm! Also about what we were doing."

"We sure weren't in the dark, in his sunlit room. I think he was more embarrassed than I was, when we took off our clothes."

"Doesn't sound romantic," Chris interjected. "

"It wasn't; we had just agreed that we wanted to. He had held my boob, so seeing it wasn't any problem for me. Hm-hmm! I wanted him to."

"Your nice boobs," Chris interjected again.

"You think so too, like them?

Chris nodded in the dark. Pat continued:

"He did, but, of course, he was embarrassed that his dick - what do you call it?"

"Cock."

"That his cock was already aroused, not like it later was. Of course, he couldn't see that I was already."

"Except for your nice, aroused nipples."

"So there we were in his room, all naked. You want to hear all this?"

"Yes! Arousing me, if you want to tell?" Chris replied.

"So there we were, on his bed, and I held it. It just seem to fit in my hand so perfectly."

Chris moaned and murmured:

"I didn't; they just stuck it in."

"He did too, but not before I made him cum. Gosh! It shot up all over him! I had to help him a little about what to do for me, but he didn't mind, and then he thought to suck my breast. Oh, that was good, our fingers and that too! His bigger fingers in me, and mine doing what else my pussy wanted. Oh, hope you don't mind my using that word!"

"No!" Chris replied, her own fingers trying to emulate what his and Pat's had been doing, who then continued:

"That was better than when we really did it. I couldn't tell him, of course. We did it a couple of times after that. The last time, I sat on him. Before, he had been on top. That was better, being able to move him in me. Mmmm! I wanted to rub like I am now - would have made it even better - but I didn't want to suggest that his dick wasn't all I needed."

"Hmmm," Chris groaned, aroused both by what her fingers were doing and by Pat's story, who then asked:

"And you? With two guy?"

"Not nearly that good. We just did it; they just did it, in the dark, like I said, and just sticking it in, had to go home and do this."

"Oh, sorry about that, but it sounds like what others have said."

"Better than for some," Chris agreed, then took a deep breath.

Could she say it? She took another deep breath and murmured:

"It wasn't really better like this, until we shaved."

"But then it was? That's good," Pat replied evenly, adding: "It was better for me - I could do it better - after being with him. Then I was sure that I was having orgasms. Mmmm! Hm-hmm! Before that, I only rubbed. Why didn't I put my fingers in? Guess I thought a virgin shouldn't do that, but then I wasn't one. Well, technically I wasn't one before; he didn't deflower me."

"Nor the first boy, me," Chris agreed.

"Oh, we were lucky! We talked about that afterwards, that it was probably better that we both just wanted to do it, that it was an experiment, not all messed up with thinking we were madly in love, that we were doing it maybe to stick together forever."

"We didn't either, but it wasn't like that, unfortunately."

Chris wanted to get back to suggesting that she and her girlfriend had done more, but Pat was moaning, obviously more interested in arousing herself. When Chris moaned, Pat murmured: "Yes, let's do it now."

They did. This time they didn't giggle afterwards, just agreed that it had been good and that they liked that they had done it together. They said good night and fell asleep.