Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 67468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
She had a point.
I didn’t have to prune either, but that was because Helga was right. I did have good genetics.
Then again, if you considered male pattern baldness on one’s vagina as ‘good genetics’ then that’s exactly what I had. I’d lucked out by not having hair that grew on any of my more intimate parts, i.e., my asshole. Nor did it grow weirdly along my legs or thickly along my mound.
“Oh,” I said. “That’s nice then.”
“Nice for a change not to have hair so thick no can see little pearl,” she quipped.
I wasn’t sure what to think about Helga looking at my pearl, but I chose to keep my mouth shut about it. I was sure it was hard not to overanalyze someone down there when that’s what you did for a living.
“Your man like no hair. Much softer on his member,” she said, slathering on the first smear of wax.
I held my breath as she slapped the inside of my thigh.
“Hey…” I started, then said, “Holy fuck! Ow!”
“Not so bad when I slap thigh,” she pointed out. “Now you think about it and know it won’t hurt too bad.”
She did have a point.
Before I could prepare for the next rip, it was already coming off.
Over and over again until my eyes were watering and my mouth was clenched so tight I could hear my jaw protesting.
“It will be okay,” she said as she ripped another piece. And another. And another.
She was like a vagina hair ripping machine.
“Surely you’re almost done,” I panted between pulls.
She stood up and rubbed her hands together as if she was cold and declared, “Finished. Would you like to look at the mirror?”
That was even more awkward.
I’d look at it when I got home and not a second before.
“No, thank you,” I said, scooting backward and pushing the gown down.
When she didn’t look like she was going to be leaving anytime soon, I slipped off the side of the bench and put my pants on with the paper sheet still wrapped around me.
When I had them buttoned, I shoved the paper sheet in the trash, slipped my feet into my sandals, then headed for the door.
Helga beat me to it.
“She almost done,” Helga said. “You have less hair. Go, sit there. You’ll wait for her.”
I really had to pee, so I took Helga up on her offer and said to Karen, “I’ll be right outside the door. I have to pee.”
Neither one of us thought anything of it.
We should have.
We should’ve both had that epiphany moment of ‘there was a reason you both chose to do your waxings in the same damn room. I.e., you have a fuckin’ maniac after you that has a penchant for following you around.
Did I remember that, though?
No. Because my bladder was so full at this point that I wasn’t thinking clearly. And Karen was damn near having her soul removed through the yanking of her pubic hairs. Oh, and it was my fault she was in this mess.
“Okay,” Karen said. “I’m almost done I think.”
“Few butthole hair to go,” Helga’s counterpart, Olga, declared.
I winced, glad that I hadn’t had any butthole hairs to speak of.
I wasn’t sure why, but I was thanking the genes that I’d been blessed with. Having butthole hairs waxed sounded like a torture practice.
Rushing past the seat Helga told me to sit in, I rushed down the hallway to the bathroom, slammed the door, and immediately took my seat so I could relieve my bladder.
It was as I was just finishing up that the doorknob started to rattle.
“I’m in here!” I called out.
As if they would know who ‘I’m’ was.
But, now that my bladder was relieved, I was a lot more sociable and said, “Two minutes!”
After washing my hands, I’d just dried them off and was reaching for the door handle when the door was suddenly slammed open.
One second, I was staring at myself in the mirror on the back of the door, and the next, I was on the ground, my hands behind me to catch my fall, and staring at a nightmare.
That nightmare reached for me and covered my mouth before I could even think to scream.
Right when I started to struggle, he tackled me to my back, pressed himself against my butt, and tightened his hand over my mouth.
“You waxed for me, didn’t you?” he breathed against my neck, causing my stomach to threaten a revolt.
The lips felt like sandpaper against my sensitive skin.
I swallowed hard, unsure what to say.
I knew what I wanted to say. A big, resounding, ‘fuck no!’
But I wasn’t sure he would appreciate that at all.
“I need to get us out of here before the cop finds out that I snuck past. God, she’s trying really hard to keep you from me, isn’t she? She’s pretty bad at her job, though. I’m sorry she’s kept you away from me,” Coran murmured as if it was Karen’s fault that she was keeping us apart and not my desire to stay away.