Shaving Pussy

We lay on the bed staring up at the ceiling on a late summer day. We were discussing the activities of the afternoon and what the evening would look like. The gaps in the conversation got longer as questions were thoughtfully answered. Simone broke the silence as she shifted slightly on the bed.

“You should shave me before we go to dinner.”

Turning my head, I was met with a slight smile. Looking into her eyes she continued,

“Yes. Definitely. Be right back.”

Sitting up she rolled over me and bound to the bathroom with purpose. As the door shut, I was up on one arm contemplating her request. The muffled sound of the toilet, a quick shower and general sounds of organized activity ended with the door opening. She presented herself in a comfortable robe open for my convenience and moved towards me. Stopping at the bed, she reached over me with deliberation, grabbed a pillow, and turned back to lay on the floor in front of the bed. Moments later I heard her whisper,

“I’m ready.”

I moved from the bed to see her rested comfortably on the floor. My gaze followed the contours of her body, over her breasts and stomach until it came to the neatly trimmed hair that covered her pussy. I was about to say something when she said,

“You better get started.”

As our eyes met, she offered a contented sigh and then closed her eyes. My gaze moved back to her pussy, and as if she sensed it, her legs parted ever so slightly.

Shaving pussy is a delicate matter for obvious reasons, and after I had collected a razor, shaving cream and a small pair of scissors from the bathroom, I found myself kneeling on the floor planning my approach. Taking the scissors in hand and whispering don’t move, I leaned in carefully and started cutting the curly hairs. As they came free, I moved them away with my other hand. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, her beautiful bush became whiskers and simply a shadow of its former self. There would be times I’d have to adjust her legs and she offered no resistance. Other than my guidance, she did not move; her breathing did not change and she made no sound. When my trimming came to an end, I noticed the lips of her cunt had opened slightly and she was wet. 

Reaching for the shaving cream, I realized I needed some water. Returning from the bathroom with a glass of warm water, I kneeled once again, set the water down and gently spread her legs wide for further inspection. Taking the glass of water, I poured some into a cupped hand that I then let it drip onto her pussy. I intently watched the water run down through the crevasses until adsorbed by the robe and then turning slightly I picked up the shaving cream — the sound was shocking in the silence as it spilled into my hand. 

Her body shifted slightly as I applied the cream above her slit and spread it around. Wiping the excess cream on the robe before I reached for the razor; I removed the safety cover and dipped it in the glass of water. Moving in close and using my other hand to ensure the skin was kept taunt, I let the razor meet skin and pulled it towards me with short strokes. The initial scrapping sound fell silent with each stroke of the razor. It was a repetitive process of water, cream, shaving, and wiping — accented by the sound of the razor as I rattled it around in the glass to clean it. Each time shaving cream was wiped away, soft beautiful skin was exposed. 

Next, the delicate folds of her pussy. 

I guided her legs up and even wider with no resistance and I shifted myself closer. I took some shaving cream in hand and applied it on her vulva and spread it to any place the razor would touch skin. I pulled back to ensure I had spread the cream where it needed to be, and before I picked up the razor, I wiped a mixture of water, shaving cream and her juices on the robe. The curves of her vulva and the folds of her lips slipped through my fingers as I flattened the skin in an attempt to work the razor. With the concentration of a surgeon, the delicate sound of scrapping would give way to the silence of smooth skin as I worked my way from front to back. 

Grabbing the glass of milky water I headed to the bathroom and returned with a fresh glass of warm water and a towel — as expected, she had not moved. Kneeing as before, I poured fresh water into a cupped hand and gently cleaned away the remaining shaving cream using the towel to soak up the excess water. Taking the razor once more, I removed any remaining hair. Rinsing her pussy one last time, all that remained was smooth skin. I stared at the beauty of her pussy for a long moment and then shifted over to lay beside her. Looking at her, I kissed her on the cheek and said, 

“I’m done.” 

 She turned her head, opened her eyes, and gave me a big smile,

“Thank you.”

We looked at each other for a long moment and I kissed her deeply. She rolled into me, and we kissed until the floor got hard.

“Ok. Let me see.”

I stood and offered a helping hand to get her to her feet. With a hug I motioned her to the floor mirror and followed close behind. As she stood there looking at herself and the hairless slit between her legs, she contorted her face ever so slightly.

“I don’t like it. It’s meant to have hair.”

Then with a big smile she declared she wasn’t going wear underwear tonight and moved to the bathroom giggling. I watched as she shut the door.

 W