My Wifes Shaved Pussy

When my wife Melissa stepped out of the shower on Tuesday morning, she was so startled to see me standing there that she nearly fell backwards into the tub.

"Jesus! What are you doing here?" she yelled, grabbing a towel from the rack and quickly wrapping up. She scowled at me. "You quit your new job already?"

Before the towel had covered her I managed a quick glimpse of her pussy, shaved completely clean, something she had never done before. Honestly, in our ten years of marriage she had hardly even trimmed down there, so it was quite a shock to see that part of her body bald and smooth like that. It looked so good to me, so tempting and delicious, still dripping wet from the shower, that I couldn't think to answer her question and just gawked at her wet thighs and the little slice of her pussy peeking out from under the shadow of the towel. I was startled by it; totally excited and dumbfounded all at once.

After a moment I stammered, "When did you?... Why'd you do that? Not complaining. Just..."

She slipped past me into our bedroom, still scowling.

My wife and I are in our mid thirties. She is half Japanese and half Caucasian, four foot nine, and thin, but with strong hips and a sweet, round ass. Her face shows her Japanese side very well - innocent and young to the point that she still gets mistaken for a teenager at times and always gets carded when we go out. It is delicately rounded, with thin lips framing her small mouth and dark brown, almond shaped eyes - very Japanese - and a soft bubble nose. Her skin is beautifully cream colored, except for freckles on her cheeks and shoulders that really come out in the sun. Her red-auburn hair, part of her Caucasian side, like the freckles, hangs straight, just past her shoulders. She has the most sumptuous and supple little breasts, like sucking on soft serve vanilla ice cream- just a little more than a generous mouthful, topped by pink, silk-soft nipples that stiffen like raspberries and flush red when they're sucked on or flicked by a tongue. Her pussy is thin and tight, nearly hidden up under her pelvis, which really made her look like a doll in that instant, with all the hair gone. When she gets excited however, her pussy lips plump out swollen and rosy, and the little nub of her clitoris pops out like a button. My favorite thing in life is to get that little button in my mouth and suck and lick it madly while Mel grinds into my face and moans and whimpers. I could do it for hours if she would let me, and I wanted it so badly now.

Unfortunately for me, we had been fighting... a lot. Not a little fly-by-night kind of spat that looses its fury and gets forgotten as the days pass, but a

barely speaking

,

avoiding each other

, and

definitely not fucking

for months type of fight that showed little prospect of being resolved any time too soon.

I had left my high paying job in finance to follow my dream of being a writer. After years of being miserable in my career, one night, working extra late on a meaningless project for a boss I hated, I just snapped. I dropped what I was doing, cleaned out my desk then and there, left a note on the boss' door telling him off, and didn't look back or return his calls. It was that easy to do at the moment and I felt a tremendous sense of freedom and a renewed excitement about my life.

The problem was that I did it spur-of-the-moment without consulting my wife first. Which, aside from the lost income, was the crux of the fight. We were supposed to be partners, a team she would say. I understand that now, but at the time I was just trying to escape my own misery.

She was pissed when I told her I had quit like I did and was still pissed several months later. Now I was working a night shift at a sorting warehouse just to make ends meet while I tried to finish my first novel, writing as much as possible during the day. Mel had begun working longer hours to make up some of the missing income and was always gone when I got home in the morning and vice versa. We hadn't seen enough of each other to really talk it out, but I could tell she thought less of me now, which is what really hurt about the whole thing.

I followed her from the bathroom into our bedroom.

"A septic pipe broke under the slab and the whole warehouse stunk of sewage so we all got to go home early... Why'd you shave down there? For me, I hope?"

She kept her back to me while she picked an outfit from the closet. She was clutching her towel tightly, like she didn't want me to see her body. "After we run at lunch I shower in the gym and all the other women are either shaved, or waxed, or trimmed or whatever. It's embarrassing to be the only one there that's totally hairy down there. That's all. That's why I did it."

I moved to her as she got her socks and panties from the dresser and put my arm around her waist. "Well, I like it..."

She moved away from me, still clutching her towel tightly and carrying her clothes in the other hand. "I'm running late. I didn't do it for you." She went into the bathroom and shut the door hard. I heard the lock click.

Later that morning I was sitting staring at my computer, reading and re-reading a bunch of words I had written but couldn't seem to focus on. My cock had been semi-hard since the encounter with my wife earlier and I was debating jerking off so I could concentrate on my book. But the image of my wife's shaved pussy just kept circling back to the front of my mind, if it ever left, and I really wanted that moist little shaved piece of heaven - not some cheap porn and my hand. Still, my cock just kept swelling up and I couldn't think about much else, so...

Just then the phone rang. It was my sister Liz. I debated answering it but knew she'd just keep calling if I didn't. My sister is a family and marriage counselor with her own practice and she is always giving me whatever new advice the lecture circuit had bestowed upon her that month.

I picked up. "Hey Liz. How's everything going?"

"Good. Very good." She paused, then said with a heaping of pity, "How's

everything with you?"

I sighed under my breath. "I'm fine Liz, thanks for checking on me."

"How are you and Mel doing? Any better?"

I knew where this was going, but at the least it was keeping my mind off my cock for the moment. "It's the same. We don't see each other enough to have a good talk, you know? And she's still just so mad, like I totally betrayed her or something. I didn't know following my dream would do so much damage to us, you know? I thought she'd be more supportive."

My sister gave a sigh of understanding. "I get it. I do. Marriage is tough work. It takes a lot of communication and a good bit of empathy, you know what I mean?" She changed her tone from sympathy to solution. "You know what you need?" She paused. I knew I was supposed to give her permission to give me the advice she already had ready for me when she called.

"What's that?" I said.

"You guys need a relationship reset event. Do you know what that is?" She didn't wait for me to answer. "A big sweeping gesture of your love for Mel that gives you a fresh opening to communicate. You know what I mean? Something that breaks up the monotony, gives you both an excuse to laugh and reconnect. Do something that she doesn't expect and creates sort of a reset opportunity for you guys."

It was actually a good idea and made some sense to me. I was a little surprised.

"That's actually a good idea Liz. It's just hard for us to have any time together lately because of our schedules."

"Do it now," she said. "Today. Surprise her at work. Bring her flowers. Take her out to lunch. You're creative, think of something she'd like but not be expecting."

We chatted a few more minutes and I thanked her and hung up. I sat thinking about what she said and then it came to me. Something my wife and I used to do when we first dated but hadn't done for a long time.

I hopped in the shower, shaved my face, brushed my hair and threw on a nice shirt and some jeans and then went rummaging around in the garage for an old picnic basket I was sure I had seen now and again over the years. Once I found it and cleaned out the dust and the dead silverfish, I stopped off at the market and got a light lunch of soft cheeses, a baguette, some pate, strawberries, and some San Peligrino, since Mel doesn't drink. I drove the twenty-five minutes to my wife's work, as nervous as a teenager on a first date. She worked at a large design and manufacturing company tucked into the back of a business park along a canyon. It was just after noon when I went in carrying the picnic basket.

The receptionist was a young woman, a little chubby, but very cute, with red hair pulled into a ponytail and large breasts pushing her thin blouse tight. She was showing just the right amount of cleavage to entice but still be professional. I tried not to be that guy that just stares at a pair of big, healthy breasts with his mouth open, but since I hadn't had any for quite some time, my eyes just kept drifting down to them as we spoke. I hate that about myself sometimes. My self-control definitely fades the hornier I get.

I didn't recognize her from any of the company events I had attended with my wife over the years, so I figured she was new.

"Hi," I said, approaching the counter, "I'm here to see Mel. I'm her husband."

"Oh!" she seemed somehow surprised - like she didn't expect Mel was married perhaps, or that such a lovely woman as my wife would be married to a guy like me maybe? I let it go.

She gave a sympathetic frown. "They left to go running. You probably missed her by like five minutes. If you hurry you might be able to catch her though." She pointed towards the side of the building. "They run the canyon trail out to the water tank usually, out behind the warehouse parking lot. I think that's where they were headed today at least."

Apparently she noticed my disappointment, because she continued, "You're also perfectly welcome to wait here for her if you want to. It's so sweet you brought her lunch. But they're usually gone like an hour or so."

I smiled at her, looking up from her tits again, hoping she hadn't noticed, though I'm sure she had; was likely used to it by now.

"You know what," I said, "maybe I'll catch her on the way back. You said the trail is behind the building?"

She smiled again just as the phone began beeping. She put a hand on the phone and said quickly, "Yeah. Just go around past the warehouse doors and there is a gap in the fence on the far side of the parking lot. You can't miss it. I think it's like a maintenance road or something. There's a bunch of little trails off the side but you can tell which one is the main trail. Just watch out for snakes. That's what everyone says at least." She picked up the phone. I whispered thank you and went outside.

It was warm and clear, but really not too hot. "Another beautiful Southern California day," I thought to myself. I debated my options a moment and then decided I wasn't ready to give this up so easily.

I went down the sidewalk around behind the building to find the trail. Some of the warehouse guys were standing outside smoking and we nodded to each other as I crossed the parking lot, feeling a little self conscious for carrying a picnic basket all alone into a canyon. I found the gap in the fence and could see the water tower on a distant hill, a few miles out at least. I took a deep breath and started down a dirt path lined with dry scrub brush and large rocks. It was a little strange going from such an industrial setting into a desert-like environment in the span of just a few steps, but it was such a nice day and I was feeling so good about what I was doing to save my marriage, that I smiled a little to myself, feeling like I was on a grand adventure. I tried to imagine what I would say when I met my wife in the middle of a trail - "She'll probably be with other people," I thought to myself - so it couldn't be too corny.

I had walked for about ten minutes, maybe a quarter mile from the building, steadily going down the trail between rows of scrub oaks, sage and huge boulders, when I heard voices off to my left. It sounded like someone was crying, maybe injured. It came from down a narrow path winding a couple hundred feet off the main trail before turning and disappearing behind a huge boulder as tall as a house and split down the middle. I heard it again, like a whimper almost, and didn't hesitate to see if someone needed help. I followed the side trail, not more than a shoulder's width wide, towards the huge boulder. I had just reached the bend that went around the boulder and was about to call out when I heard a man's voice on the other side very low, and calm, and clear, saying, "That's it. Just suck that head in a little more. Tastes good huh? You love it don't you? Come on, suck more of this big dick in your mouth sweetheart. I know you can do it."

"Oh shit," I thought to myself, realizing instantly what was going on, what the whimpering and crying I had heard were really all about. My cock was already growing to attention just thinking about it. I have to say that the thought of voyeurism had always been appealing to me, but I had never really had any chance to indulge in it, until now. I felt a little bit like a creepy pervert, but then again, someone was out in the middle of day, wide open to the world getting it on, so...

"Shit," I thought, "I don't want to miss Mel, but..." I decided I'd just have a quick peek if I could, then get back to intercepting my wife. I figured she hadn't reached the water tower yet anyhow, and it would be a while before she was on her way back.

There was a narrow gap where the huge boulder had split and separated millions of years ago. It formed a little cave like entrance, maybe more of a hall, but dark and wide enough for two people standing shoulder to shoulder to fit into, and plenty high to stand up comfortably in. On the far side of the split, the stone reconnected but left a gap about five inches wide, beginning at about my chest and going up until the rock reconnected a few feet above my head. It was a perfect hiding spot to peek from without being seen, if I was stealthy enough not to be heard. Giving a quick glance for snakes, I very quietly went in the little cave, setting the picnic basket down softly in the dirt next to me.

I was super excited and straight away peered through the gap. Just in front of me was a clear patch of dirt framed in by some smaller, scattered boulders and enclosed on the other sides by a steep embankment dense with brush so that it was very well hidden and inaccessible from the main trail, unless you came the way I did, or were crazy enough to force your way down through the brush. Standing twenty feet from me was an older man, tall, fit (really fit for his age I thought), and muscular; with greying hair and a masculine, clean shaven face. I recognized him immediately as one of the owners of the company my wife worked for: Tom, her main boss. She had told me that he had been a marine before he started his company. My eyes went wide as I looked at him. He was standing in the middle of the open space so that his right side was towards me. His black running shorts were on the dirt next to him, leaving him naked from the waist down to his white sneakers. He had on a grey tank top with the number "1" on it in faded black.

My head spun and I suddenly felt sick and woozy. For a moment I thought I might faint as the blood rushed from my brain. I steadied myself with a hand on the cool stone wall next to me.

On her knees in the bare dirt, the head of Tom's long, thick cock stuffing her little mouth, was my wife Mel. Her right hand was wrapped part way around the base of his shaved cock, it was so thick, and her head was bobbing furiously so that her lips were stretched to their limits. Her cheeks were puffed out like she had tried to stuff an entire plum into her mouth all at once.

Now, my penis isn't small by any measure. It's a solid seven inches long and I always believed, pretty thick. Mel was never able, or willing to try at least, to get more than two or three inches into her mouth. Forget about deep throat action, she never even tried with that small mouth of hers. But Tom's dick was easily nine inches and twice as big around as mine, like something out of a porn movie. My wife gasped for air, and the large mushroom head of his cock popped out of her mouth for just a second, letting me see why she had such a hard time sucking more than just the huge head of it with her little Japanese shaped mouth. It really was the size of a large plum.

I stared at all her skin, her sweet, soft body almost completely exposed to the sun; the pale, tender flesh standing out in contrast to the backdrop of granite boulders and dark, jagged brush - the freckles on her cute, round face glowing with warmth. Her blue workout tights and black panties were down around one ankle, as if she had been in such a hurry to get to his cock that she hadn't taken the extra few seconds to remove them altogether. Her black sports bra was yanked up under her chin so that her gorgeous, milk-white tits were on full display and readily accessible to him if he chose. Her rosy nipples were straining as hard and erect as I had ever seen them, popping straight out in the sun and open air. She had pulled her hair tight into a high, runner's ponytail that bounced as she pumped and tried swallowing his dickhead farther into her little mouth like a. And, as she sucked and jerked his dick with one hand, she was furiously rubbing and fingering her shaved pussy with the other as if it were on fire. I could hear the slippery, squishing noise of her fingers sliding up and down the slickness of her gash. She had never masturbated for me. It was too embarrassing for her, she said.

I was in shock. I didn't know what to do or how to feel. Deep down I was enraged, humiliated, depressed, fearful I had lost her and confused all at once. But on the surface, my dick was pressing so hard at the front of my pants that, almost unconsciously, I unbuttoned my jeans, threw down my pants and boxers, and watched my hard dick so spring out like a diving board. I just stared at it for a minute like it was the first time I had ever seen my dick hard. A drop of precum was oozing from the tip and I scooped it with my finger and just looked at it. I reached down and grabbed my cock firmly and squeezed its warmth and felt the blood pulsating in it. Fuck, I was confused. Then I started jerking it slowly and looked up.

My wife was still furiously sucking Tom's dick like it was the last piece of food on the planet. He was rocking his hips very softly into her mouth, his hand on top of her head now, guiding her so that the tip of his cock could probe around in her mouth and maybe slide in another inch or so.

Tom cooed to her with a proud little smirk on his face, "You love sucking my big dick Melissa, huh? Tastes good doesn't it?"

She whimpered, trying to nod her head yes without gagging or loosing the extra inch of cock she was now nursing on.

He reached down with a big hand and grabber her under her jerking arm, gently pulling her up to her feet.

"Come on, get up for a minute. Let me feel that nice pussy."

Even as he was lifting her up she didn't pull her mouth off his cock, or stop rubbing her own pussy. She stood bent over towards him, her tits pointing at the ground, her legs spread, rolling her tongue in circles around the swollen purple dickhead, making desperate little slurping noises.

Tom laughed, put his hands on her shoulders, and pulled his cock back from her insatiable mouth, a thread of saliva and precum stretching between his dick and her lips. She looked devastated, like a child who had just dropped her ice cream. He bent down and shoved his tongue in her mouth and she went up on her tiptoes and started rolling her tongue around his, flicking it in and out of his mouth as they kissed, while her right hand, the one not rubbing her pussy, kept jerking his cock, rubbing it all over the flesh of her belly and lower chest. Tom slid his big hand down her stomach and pushed hers out of the way so he could rub his middle finger in the slit of her pussy. My wife's pussy rubbing hand now went straight to his balls and started massaging and pulling on them while she still jerked his cock with the other. He pulled his tongue from her mouth for a second.