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Close Shave

By: Mostodd07



“Help me.”

She stumbled toward me on the empty beach, completely naked – not a hair on her body. She had been shaved clean, from the top of her head down the length of her legs. I would have blamed what I saw that morning on the drinking I did all night, but she wasn’t acting like a girl in my dreams. She crawled and ran and brushed unseen hands off her body. Her face and arms were pink from heat and exposure, but not yet blistering. Even her eyebrows were shaved. Her eyelashes looked crinkled and short surrounding her gray eyes like little stars. 

“Don’t look at me.”

She shuddered when she saw me, and curled into a ball. She might have stayed there baking in the rising sun for hours, I guessed, afraid to go on, and scared to death to go back. I got her some water, and an old shirt and pair of shorts of mine. She slipped into them, and found some shade under a palm tree. She was thin enough to be a model but probably too old, somewhere between 19 and 27. She had a large bruise on her right hip, purple and brown in stark contrast to her soft skin that was well-tanned everywhere but the bright white triangle where tiny bikini bottoms might go. On her left shoulder a tattoo of a tiger started; it prowled over the shoulder and toward her gently swelling breast, where it stopped. Its fierce mouth showed sharp teeth ready to close on her nipple. It was the most beautiful tattoo I had ever seen, with just two flaws – the eye looked too dead, and the mouth looked too hungry. She watched me until late afternoon, wordlessly. I didn’t have anything to say, either, and watched her back.

“Who else is here?”

The cay we found ourselves on was empty except for the beach house my Miami friend loaned me whenever I needed to feel sorry for myself. I stayed for weeks at a time, sometimes writing, sometimes drinking, sometimes screaming at the stars over the ocean. No one cared which I chose. The cay had only this beach; the rest of the island was steep, sharp rock. I could go weeks seeing no one but an occasional passing pleasure yacht. Oh yes, sometimes Deputy Doris would stop by. Deputy Doris came by occasionally to check for smugglers, pirates, and terrorists, and to see whether I was still alive. Doris looks like the paintings of Sabine women done in the middle ages – heavy with fleshy arms, legs, stomach, lips and breasts. Her dark hair was luxuriantly heavy when she let it down. I swear I could smell her rich, musky odor before I saw her on my porch some days. She refused to sleep with me, but I let her sunbathe nude anyway. When I closed my eyes to masturbate, I whispered “Doris.”

“You won’t hurt me?” The thin girl folded her arms tightly about her. The stretchy shorts fit her, the shirt hung loosely about her. She took a step closer to the house.

“Of course not. Take it easy. Easy does it now. Just sit there.” She sat on the edge of a kitchen chair, her elbows on the table, her hands rubbing her bald pate, and tears dripping from her cheeks. “What’s your name?”

She looked up suspiciously, then away, and shook her head. 

“Do you need help? I’ve got a radio. We can get help here in two or three hours.”

“NO! No.” She shuddered again. “Please, no.”

That was all the talking we did that night. We had some supper I made from stuff I forgot I had, shared some rum, and watched the stars come out. She wouldn’t take the bed, but slept curled on the hammock half outside, the bottle of rum in her hand. I stayed awake as usual until the sun started to come up.

“My name is Lily,” she said to wake me up the next day. “Thank you.”

Lily had found some other clothes of mine that fit her a little better. There was fruit and vodka on the table, and an exotic flower in the empty rum bottle. Sleep must have agreed with her. She wouldn’t let me look her in the eye for long, but she did smile occasionally. Her smile would melt titanium. 

She asked about the cay, and we walked the beach. I showed her my boat, my typewriter and the pages half-finished. She let me put balm on her burnt arms and face, and suntan lotion on her legs and her back. She spoke with a slight foreign lilt, and seemed unashamed to be topless. Her tiger fascinated me as much as her perfect small breasts.

“I can tell you now,” Lily said on the second day. “Yes, I was foolish. Alone on a boat with three rich men, but I trusted them. Instead, they gave me alcohol and drugs. They beat me. They did unspeakable things to me to please themselves. Finally, they tied my arms over my head, and lifted me so I was hanging by my arms. Then, they shaved my hair. I screamed; I tried to bite; I cursed them. My blonde hair, it was gone. Then they shaved between my legs, under my arms, and my legs, too. Then Charrad saw my eyebrows, and he decided to shave them off, too. I spit at him, but it did no good. 

“The sight of my hairlessness made them feel like big men. They put scented oil on me, everywhere. Their hands, their fingers, were everywhere. Their penises poked me, until I could have died from shame. They filled my punta, and my mouth; they made me grab on with my hands. Charrad didn’t quit though; I felt his thick cock stab into me from behind. In my ass! Oh my God! He put his thing in my ass!” She leaned her head onto my chest, crying again. I could feel the stubble of her head on my cheek.

“The scented oil helped me wriggle out of my bonds while they slept. I dove off the yacht, and swam until I thought I would die. Then I saw your island, and I met you. So kind. So different. You are nothing like them.” She put her arms around me, and kissed me. 

That filthy whore kissed me. 

Lily would have slept with me, I think, but I wouldn’t let her. Instead, I took the hammock, and let her have the bed. She slept naked under the sheets. Often at night she would wander the beach wearing just a short shirt; sometimes wearing nothing at all. She looked out over the ocean, listening intently, but she never screamed at the stars.

Lily asked about the house and its owner. She asked about the other islands around, and about Deputy Doris. We talked about my boat, and fishing, and snorkeling. I showed her the spear gun and the machete. She even asked about the handcuffs I kept near the bed. They were supposed to be a joke for Doris and me. 

Before the week was up, Deputy Doris showed up. Lily made herself scarce, but I saw her stubbled head and star-encrusted eyes watching Doris and me from the window. Doris brought me a case of rum and vodka, 15 gallons of water, and some fresh fruit. She did stuff like that. It made her feel okay about not fucking me. She undid her hair, and shook it out. It looked like a dark curtain. She stripped and laid on the towel, and set a timer to know when to turn over.

“Sleep with me, Doris.” I asked, you might say. “My balls are going to burst looking at you naked like that.”

“Nobody ever died from blue balls,” she said. “Here. Rub my back.” She tossed some scented oil my way. “Do you know how to use this?”

I rubbed sloshed it on thick, so that my hands and fingers could go everywhere on her. I mounded her thick flesh, and rolled it between my fingers. Oil dripped on the towel, and she seemed to like it. “Any new cases, Doris?” I liked to hear her talk while she was almost napping. She had a husky voice.

“Terrible case,” she murmured. “Two men burned alive in a yacht not far from here. Scratched their fingernails raw trying to get out before the thing blew up. Four people on board originally, according to the harbormaster. We’re looking for the other two – a man and a woman. Don’t think we’ll find them, though. If the sharks didn’t get them, then they’ve escaped with the loot.”

I slathered it on, rolling her ribs and gripping her ass until my fingers slipped. “How much loot?”

“With smugglers, hard to say. I’d guess $30 million. The rumor is it was in diamonds and jewels.” The timer dinged. Doris gave me a “back-away” look, so I did. She turned over onto her back, settled into the sand, and with a wave of her hand and lift of her eyebrow, summoned the oil and me for her front. “See if you can’t be a little less punishing on this side, buster.”

I thought I had been dreaming when I saw that fireball out on the ocean. Huge, orange, like a harvest moon rising fast with nothing to gather on the ocean, it had risen to the stars and disappeared. Ten seconds later I heard the explosion. I thought it was the rum. I’ve seen stranger things. Like shaved bare Lily the next morning, stumbling, crawling and running from something. 

Doris never asked, so I didn’t tell her about what I saw, or about Lily. It really didn’t matter, did it? And I had never seen any other guy. 

“We’ll find them, or pieces of them,” said Doris. “Already we’ve found singed blond hairs showing up in nests. Singed hair – quite a stink, too. Birds will nest with anything though.”

“Sleep with me, Doris.” But she wouldn’t, and after another ding, she cleaned herself in the ocean, dressed in her official uniform, and piled up her hair under her hat. She gave me a sisterly kiss, and started back to the pier. 

“What do I have to do, Doris?” I pleaded.

She blew me a kiss. “I’m not anchoring to a beach rat with no prospects. Call me hard, buster, but a girl has to look out for her future.” The cruiser sounded like it was giving me the raspberries as it left.

Lily was wide-eyed, and scared again. “Did she know I was here? Will she tell anyone?” Her eyes scanned the horizon, and both edges of the beach. 

“Shut up, Lily.” I was mad. At her, at Doris, at my lot in life. “Just shut up.” I stamped into the house.

Lily followed, and was more docile now. She tried to cuddle; I shook her off the first two times, but there’s only so much a man can take. Lily kissed my neck, and slid my shirt off. She kissed my shoulders, and with her nails, scratched my chest and my nipples. She shrugged off her own shirt, and I saw the tiger about to crunch her areola. I wanted to suck it too, and Lily guided my head to her breast. I swirled my tongue around her nipple, which grew tauter in my mouth. She moaned, and arched her back. She was good, I’ll give her that.

We lay on the bed, and she pulled my shorts off. My erection sprung up, and wobbled back and forth; her eyes watched it hungrily. She curled down to it, and blew on it gently, with an occasional kiss, but never swallowing it like I wanted. “Stop it, Lily. You’re only teasing. I can’t stand any more of that. Just back off.”

She slid her shorts off her narrow hips. The bruise was less obvious; the white patch now was as brown as the rest of her, the result of her nude naps in the sun. “You’ve got to trust me. I can make you very happy. Very. Very. Happy.” She raised my right arm and clicked the handcuff to the bed post. I gripped the other post with my left hand.

She went to work on me, using her hands, her lips, her ass, her pussy. While my nipples were in her mouth, she stroked me with her hands; but not too long. She put my toes in her pussy, and writhed. She lowered her ass onto my cock, a little bit at a time, raising up after an inch or so, to start again. Her nubbled head ran along the side of my hips. She poured rum onto my stomach and lapped it up. She eased herself onto my throbbing dick just in time for the cum to explode inside her as I bucked on the bed like a fucking bronco, arching my back so that I was violating her as completely as possible. I held it in her, until it was just a limp piece of meat, and still it was clenched by her vagina, and re-clenched until it became hard again.

“Your turn,” I gasped. I wanted to make her body feel as alive as she had made mine. I wanted her to moan, scream, and writhe with furious pleasure.

“That’s enough, tiger,” she said. “I can’t take any more.” She kissed my lips and lay upon my chest. Her legs apart. With my uncuffed hand I grabbed her ass, and fell asleep gently tracing her asshole.

A scream on the pier woke me up. I was groggy from the love-making, and the room was in total darkness. Lily was gone, leaving my right hand cuffed to the bed. I pulled at the post, but it wouldn’t give. I heard another scream, a woman’s scream, and knew it had to be Lily’s. Sitting up, I reached for the key, which I kept in the night table. I used it to mark my place in the Bible. After all, not even for Doris would I go without a safe word or safe key.

Shorts I grabbed, the cuffs and the spear gun. That’s all. I looked out to the pier. Lily was in my boat, with someone else. Her arms were tied behind her, the shirt pulled back, her chest exposed. In the moonlight, a knife glinted as it grazed against her shoulder. 

“No, Charrad, I’ll tell you. Please! No more.”

Charrad’s face grimaced into the kind of smile a man gives while having furious sex, or torturing someone. “Shall we take away all of the tiger, ma cher? First the tail.” A swift flick of the knife, another scream, and Lily cried as she tried to catch her breath.” Blood had begun to flow to her nipple. “I know you’ll tell me.”

Lily began to talk as fast as she could. I crawled on my belly trying to get closer to them, to get within range of the spear gun, without being seen. Lily swore she could take him to the diamonds, but he wasn’t satisfied. The knife flashed again and the tiger lost a rear leg. He was flaying her alive.

Lily told Charrad where the diamonds were. She told him her bank account numbers, her hiding places at her own apartment. She promised him pleasures beyond what money could buy. Whatever he wanted to have from a woman, she would give him.

“No, ma cher. You left me and my partners to be burned alive. The explosion should have killed me too, but I was lucky. I only lost my eye and the side of my face.” His face was away from me, but the grimace could have been made by scar tissue. “You suffered some minor burns on your face and arms. Is that why you shaved your head, ma cher? To gain pity, or to show remorse? In either case, it’s not enough.” He lifted the knife again, and placed it against her skin at the point where the tiger’s other leg began.

I fired the spear gun, and it caught Charrad in the gut, knocking him out of the boat. He stood in the shallow water, and walked toward me with the spear sticking out of both sides of him. The knife he had dropped in the boat, so he meant to kill me with his bare hands. 

Lily screamed with the effort of fighting her ropes, and freed one hand. She picked up an oar and ran after Charrad, striking him in the head once, twice, again, and again, until his brains ran from his head, and I had my arms around Lily to stop her. She collapsed onto me, still breathing angrily. We carried Charrad’s body to my boat. Lily sat in the prow, and as I pushed off, I saw her pick up Charrad’s knife. 

She slid it behind her, and I pretended not to see. But as I got in the boat, she extended her arms to help me, and I cuffed them both.

We motored to the opposite side of the island, where she told Charrad she had hidden the diamonds. While we were still a ways out, I tossed Charrad over like so much chuff. Judging by the water turbulence, his body never made it to the bottom.

“You don’t trust me?” Lily said. “The jewels are there. Go see. Plenty for us both.”

I found the spot where Lily had hid them. It was pretty obvious, even on the rocky coast. I think I would have found them eventually, or someone would have. $30 Million in diamond and jewels. Plenty for both, that’s for sure.

I motored around the cay toward the beach side. Lily sat upright in the prow, and reminded me of the Indian Princess in Peter Pan. Lily sat straight-backed, tight-lipped and eyes closed. 

I stopped the boat far from the beach. Lily opened her gray eyes, still surrounded by the singed stars. I leaned forward toward her, to the damaged tiger on her chest. I kissed it, and licked it, and sucked at it, while she moaned. The blood began to flow again, and a single drop poised at the tip of her nipple, while other rivulets ran on either side of the hungry tiger’s mouth. I reached behind her, and grabbed the hidden knife. 

Lily’s face went white. Her head looked like a second moon, still round and egg-shaped, though defaced by the stiff stubbles of hair coming back. They say that after you die, your hair and your nails continue to grow. How long would Lily have to be dead before her hair grew back to it former loveliness?

I used the knife to cut my clothing from her. She was as bare as the first day I saw her, but for some small hairs that had sprouted in various places. I pointed to the fading bruise on her hip. “How did that happen?”

She lifted her chin proudly. “After I started the fire in the men’s sleeping quarters, I had to use my body to slam the door shut. It wasn’t easy when there were three of them trying to get out. I threw my hip against the door to slam it. So there.”

The blood dripped around the tiger. I knew she would not have a chance to grow her hair long, or her nails. The ocean would churn around her, and she would have as little chance hitting the bottom as Charrad had had. 

“Doris? She doesn’t love you, you know.” She said this as I lifted her lithe, naked body. She could have struggled in my arms, trying to upset us both from the boat. Instead, she kissed me. 

The filthy whore kissed me.

I layed her gently in the water, and as she sank, I saw her star-encircled gray eyes looking up at me. I may or may not be successful in courting Doris; of course, the money will help. Eventually, it will be Doris’s bold brown eyes I remember; but for now, every night I see gray eyes and stars.

Close Shave



Fred Blake was one of the first people I met in the office when I was transferred from Minnesota to Arizona. He had a weathered look, like he was probably in his early fifties. The Phoenix sun had probably done that. Still, he was trim and seemed in good shape. His hair was dark -- almost black -- and graying nicely at the temples. I hope I still have that much hair when I reach his age. We had the same job title but he had been with the firm nearly ten years while I only had two under my belt.

While I looked for a place to live I was staying in a motel that the company paid for. I figured out why they picked that one when I learned that, while the rooms were nice enough, there was no pool. That made it a rarity for Arizona facilities. It also made it inexpensive. The company isn't cheap but it's frugal. A couple of weeks after I started there, a few of us were having a beer after work. When I mentioned the motel's shortcomings, Fred invited me over to his place that weekend. "You can meet my wife and kid. We'll grill some steaks and drink some beers out by the pool." he said. "We can even take a dip. I didn't know that place they put you up in didn't have a pool." I was grateful for the invitation and accepted.

I was a little nervous as I pulled to the curb in front of the house. The neighborhood was upscale and I wondered how Fred could afford it. I knew he made a little higher salary I did since he had been with the company a few years longer than I had, but I didn't think he made that much more. I couldn't have afforded this place. I was glad I had spent the extra bucks for the imported beer.

A woman answered the door. Her head barely came to the height of my shoulder, but she was a knockout. She had short brown hair and was wearing a white terry cloth towel that started just under her armpits and stopped a long way short of her knees. At least at first I thought it was just a towel, but then I saw it was more tailored than that. With the pocket near one hip, it had to be one of those pool wraps. She had slim smooth legs and the white cloth really set off her tan. But her most "outstanding" features were her tits.

I figured her to be somewhere between mid-thirties and early forties. She smiled broadly and said, "You must be Allan! I'm Shirley." There were deep dimples on either side of her generous mouth. She held her hand out. When I took it to shake she surprised me by pulling me inside. The surprise didn't end there, either. She reached a hand up, pulled my head down to her level and gave me a hug and a kiss on the lips, as if we'd been friends for years. I didn't mind but it seemed excessive under the circumstances. I also didn't mind feeling those large breasts against my chest. It had been a while since I had felt that.

I stammered the usual stuff and she laughed, taking custody of the beer. Her laugh was echoed by Fred's as he came into the room. Fred wore a pair of trunks in a red and black tropical print without a shirt. I saw that his tan was as deep as his wife's. "Shirley, leave the poor guy alone. Get to know him before you start making moves on him!" The uneasiness passed soon enough as Shirley took custody of the beer and Fred started showing me around.

The house was as nice as the exterior promised. The living room was on the left, two steps down from the terra cotta tile of the entry. The floor in there was thickly carpeted and a natural stone fireplace dominated the room. The rock work rose from the floor to the ceiling high overhead. Huge fans spun lazily up there, keeping the air stirred up.

Across the living room, steps led up to a hallway next to the fireplace. Fred said there were four bedrooms and a bathroom down there. "We put a sunken Jacuzzi tub in the master bath," he said. To the other side of the entry there was a big family room with a full size pool table, giant TV and a bar. 

Shirley was behind the bar stowing the beer I'd brought in a small refrigerator. Through the sliding glass doors I could see a part of the large back yard and a corner of the pool. "This is a great house, Fred," I said. He grinned.

"Yeah, tell me about it. Thanks to Shirley's dead grandfather, she can afford to keep me in the lifestyle I love!" He ducked an ice cube launched by Shirley. But I had the answer to my question. He explained that Shirley's family was a pioneer Arizona family. Her great grandfather had been a prospector and had found a streak of gold somewhere out in the desert. His son, Shirley's grandfather, had turned the original fortune into megabucks. He sold the company he founded just before the crash of '29 and began investing again. He made his kids and grandkids filthy rich when he died.

We walked through the family room and into the kitchen. It almost looked like a restaurant kitchen with all the stainless steel and the six burner gas range. We returned to the family room where Fred handed me an ice cold beer. As I was popping it open, a little boy (I assumed it was their son, Joey) ran into the room from the yard, chased by a little girl who was blonde, a head taller than he was, and looked to be about ten years old. They were both stark naked! Neither Fred nor Shirley seemed surprised at their lack of clothes so I tried to be nonchalant, too. It was no good because they'd been watching for my reaction. They both laughed at my surprise.

"We're pretty casual about clothes around here, Allan," Fred said. "That was Joey and his cousin, Marie. She's staying with us for the weekend. I wasn't sure how you felt about nudity so Shirl' and I got dressed up for you." He held his arms away from his sides as if demonstrating.

The truth was that I'd been a closet nudist for most of my life. My family, however, was a typical Midwestern conservative one. The only time I was able to feel the freedom was when I was alone at home or out in the nature somewhere by myself.

When I got married, my wife was okay with me going naked around the house. She even joined in sometimes and we even took a few showers together. When I suggested going to a nudist or clothing optional resort, however, she drew the line. "I don't want some naked perverts staring at my naked ass, and I certainly don't want to see theirs!" was how she put it. End of conversation.

As it turned out, that was only one of the areas where we differed. After a couple of years the list got too long and we got divorced. None of the women I'd gone out with since had lasted long enough for me to feel comfortable discussing the subject. I hadn't "taken the plunge" and tried social nudity after the divorce because...well, I guess I was still a bit skittish about doing it alone.

So when Fred gave me the obvious opening I was intrigued. I figured there would never be a more appropriate time to put myself to the test. I responded. "I'm fine with social nudity. I've never actually participated but I've always sort of wanted to," I said. I felt butterflies in my stomach as I said the words but it felt good to say it out loud.

"Well, then let's all get naked," Shirley said happily. She had come out from behind the bar and she matched her actions to her words by pulling a Velcro tab under her left arm. There was the expected ripping sound and the wrap fell away. She tossed it on the couch and took a bow, giving a little "Ta-Dah!" I'd known her for all of three minutes and she was standing there totally naked, dressed in just her mahogany tan. When I say "totally", I mean it. Other than on her head, there was no hair to be seen anywhere. As I said, she was short but her proportions were great. Her breasts stood out with very little sag. The nipples were a dark plum color and they, too, stood proudly erect. Her belly had a little bulge but it looked right for her. I guess I stared.

"Close your mouth, boy," Fred said with a grin. "You're liable to swallow a fly!" I realized my mouth was literally hanging open. I clapped it shut and grinned sheepishly at my host. Fred added, "She is something, though, isn't she?" As he spoke he was casually stepping out of his trunks. They soon joined Shirley's wrap on the couch. His groin -- and, I realized, almost his entire body -- was as hairless as Shirley's. Neither of them had a hair other than their heads and arms. Fred's penis seemed to stand out more from the lack of hair.

Shirley hooked my arm with hers and led me down the hall. Her breast was warm against my elbow, causing my prick to begin to salute. I tried to remember my multiplication tables to distract my mind. She pointed out the guest bathroom as we passed it and continued to the spare bedroom. "You can leave your clothes in here, Allan. We'll be out by the pool when you're ready. I remember my first time. It is easier than you think it's going to be right now, believe me. Oh, hang on a sec." She whirled and left the room, leaving the door open. In a few seconds she was back. She tossed me a towel. "That's for you to sit on while you're naked. Nudist etiquette rule number one. Besides, if you sit down outside it'll keep you from frying your ass." She smiled (those dimples again!) and added, "It also comes in handy for you guys if you get a hard on, though I don't mind seeing them." She winked, and walked out.

I nervously shed my clothes. Once I was naked I realized I had to pee. I opened the door and peeked out. There was no one around. Holding my towel in front of my half hard cock I tiptoed back to the bathroom and stopped in the open doorway. The naked little girl was sitting on the toilet, kicking her feet and singing to herself softly as she peed. I tried to back out before she looked up but I was too slow. "Hi," she said. "You're my Uncle Fred's friend from work." She was a typical kid, just a naked one.

Trying to be as casual as everybody else seemed to be, I stopped my retreat but I was glad to have the towel to hold in front of me. "Right the first time," I replied. "My name is Allan." She smiled up at me while her stream of urine tinkled into the bowl. It was disconcerting to stand there and have my nudity assessed by a naked little girl. Her eyes traveled over my body and came back up to my face. She smiled again.

"Hi, Allan. I'm Marie," she said as she stripped a length of tissue from the roll. "You have lots of hair," she added. She hopped to her feet, squatted a little bit and reached between her thighs to wipe her hairless little mound. She dropped the paper into the bowl, flushed and brushed past me, saying, "See you outside, Allan." Then she was gone.

I shook my head. This was going to take some getting used to, I thought. I closed the door (wondering if that was some kind of breach of 'nudist etiquette') and used the toilet. Then I stripped some tissue from the roll and blotted the dribbles -- something I don't normally do, but since I didn't want to drip on Fred and Shirley's floor, I thought it prudent. I washed my hands and splashed some water on my face. I looked in the big mirror over the sink. I could see my reflection down to my thighs. I decided I was in pretty good shape for thirty seven. I had inherited my dad's -- or maybe my mother's (though I can't recall ever seeing her naked) -- hirsute gene. As Marie had pointed out, my chest, as well as the rest of my body, was covered with dark, curly hair. "Well, here goes nothing," I told my reflection and I left the bathroom.

Telling myself that everybody else was naked too, and that there was nothing to be nervous about I entered the family room. I retrieved my beer from the bar. Through the glass doors to the patio I saw Fred working at the grill, Shirley sitting at a round glass table nearby on a canvas chair, and the two kids splashing in the shallow end of the pool. I drank down half my beer. I burped and finished it. Helping myself to another one, I slid the door open and stepped out.

Shirley turned her head and smiled at me. "Come on over here and have a seat, Allan," she said, indicating the chair next to her. Fred glanced at me and back down at the grill as I walked to the table, discreetly holding the towel about waist level. I hurried because the flagstones were pretty hot on my bare feet. There was a wide umbrella shading the table but the air was hot and dry. I realized with embarrassment that I had a partial erection but so far the towel hid it. I spread the towel on the seat of the chair and sat. When I looked up at Shirley she smiled again.

"See? It's easy. Once you take the plunge you wonder what you had to be nervous about."

"Well," I said, "I'm not quite used to it yet, but it feels great."

She glanced up at her husband and leaned close to the table -- as if she was going to tell me a secret. Her breasts rested on the glass comfortably. Her move caused me to lean closer to hear. She lowered her voice and said, "Don't take this wrong, Allan, but I noticed the way you were holding your towel. An erection is nothing to be embarrassed about. We're all friends here. Marie has even seen Fred with half a hard on lots of times. It's normal. They go away if you just ignore them."

Her advice caused my half hard cock to rise to full mast. My face felt like it was glowing with exactly the embarrassment she was telling me to ignore. Sitting back in my chair I opened my mouth but could think of no reply. I closed my mouth. I looked away and back at Shirley. She was still smiling (dimpling) and looking through the glass of the table at my cock. I know she probably meant what she had said, but her eyes twinkled with something that made me throb harder. So, sitting there naked, with my dick pointing up at my friend's wife, I sipped beer and chatted with a naked woman I had barely met. It was a bizarre situation to say the least.

While Fred finished cleaning the grill, Shirley and I talked. She told me a little about herself, but mostly she drew me out, got me to telling her more about me than I would normally have told somebody I had just met. I wasn't sure whether it was her conversational skill or the fact that we were both naked and, therefore, had nothing to hide. As she had promised, my erection subsided.

Fred went back into the house, reappearing in a minute with two new beers -- this time he had put each one in one of those foam cozies. "They get as warm as piss in no time if you don't use these when you're outside," he said. Another lesson in my desert education, I thought. He handed one to me and took an empty chair.

About that time Joey and Marie came running over from the pool. They were dripping wet. Joey climbed into his dad's lap and Marie just stood there next to my chair. I looked up at her and she grinned. "How come you have hair on your penis?" she asked. I choked on the mouthful of beer. Everybody laughed, but Shirley explained that, just like at the 'camp', some people didn't remove their pubic hair.

"I think it looks yucky," Marie said.

"Marie, that will be enough. Don't be rude." Shirley gave her niece a look I used to see on my (clothed) mother's face. It did the job. Marie's little butt bounced as she ran back and jumped into the pool.

"You mentioned a camp, Shirley. Is there a nude resort around here?" I asked. As long as I was going to finally indulge, I decided I might as well go the whole route.

Fred answered for her. "It isn't what you'd call close, but it isn't halfway across the country either. If you want to go sometime we can bring a guest along."

"Thanks, I'd appreciate that," I told him. "I know there were some clubs in Minnesota, but I just never had the guts to go on my own."

"There are also travel clubs that don't have real estate," Shirley said.

"How does that work?" I asked.

"They get together somewhere -- one of their homes or at a club as a group -- from time to time. We used to be in one here, but it got to be...a little strange." Shirley looked a bit uncomfortable when she said that. Fred cleared up the mystery.

"Strange, hell! It turned into a wife swapping club -- which, in case you didn't already know, isn't what the nudist movement is about."

"Oh, I've read about it a lot," I said. In fact it was clubs like that one that kept social nudity so far "in the closet". Fred's next words surprised me, though.

"I mean we aren't prudes." He shooed Joey back to the pool and his cousin before he added, "I mean we've swapped a couple of times, but we were discreet about it. It just isn't what nudity is about."

"Fred!" Shirley blushed and scolded her husband. To me she said, "It was a long time ago and we were both a lot younger then. I doubt we'd get any takers these days."

"Hey, don't sell yourself short, Shirl'," Fred said. You saw the way Allan looked at you when you showed him the goods. I bet he'd like to get between those legs." It was my turn to blush and my sleeping erection threatened to awaken. Shirley noticed the twitch under the table and Fred saw her look. He just chuckled and took a drink of beer.

"Don't bother to respond to that, Allan. Fred's been drinking since noon." Still she said it with a smile.

The subject changed and after a while we all went inside. The kids went to Joey's room to play video games, Shirley went to the kitchen to "put a salad together", and Fred and I stayed at the bar. The sky turned several shades of red, orange and violet as the sun dropped behind a mesa.

A short time later, Shirley brought out a tray with three nicely seasoned rib steaks and a couple of hamburger patties on it.

I trailed Fred out to the gas grill and he fired it up. By then I was beginning to feel the beer and I had completely lost my self consciousness about being naked in company. Fred talked a little bit about the job -- who to trust, etc. -- and then glanced back at the house. When he turned around he said in a lowered voice, "Really, Allan, don't believe everything Shirley says. I saw her checking you out. She likes you. Have you ever had group sex?"

I considered my reply carefully. I trusted Fred, even before he confirmed my own assessment of our coworkers. Still, I wasn't ready for anything like what he seemed to be suggesting. "No, but I always wanted to try it with two women," I said.

"Oh, yeah," he said, "the great American male fantasy. It can be good, but it usually isn't everything you imagine it will be." He didn't expand on that so I didn't reply. He peeked at the underside of the steaks and moved them around without turning.

"Shirley's brother -- Marie's dad -- and his wife used to be our main partners when we swapped. That Wendy is something else! She doesn't have very big tits but she can sure give a hell of a blow job." His eyes were seeing memories while he spoke. He flipped the steaks and let the burgers ride a few more minutes. I'd had enough to drink that it took a couple of seconds to register. If they had swapped with Shirley's brother, it meant that at some point Shirley would have been having sex with her brother. I filed that away without examining it.

"Don't get me wrong. Shirley gives great head and she's a great fuck, but there's nothing like a little 'forbidden fruit', especially when it isn't really forbidden." Glancing at the kitchen window I saw Shirley gazing out at us. She smiled and waved and I waved back. Then she made a beckoning motion with her hand.

"I think Shirley needs something," I told Fred.

"Go ahead. I have to keep an eye on the groceries here," he said.

I went into the house and through the door to the kitchen. The ceiling fan was whipping around and it made the kitchen considerably cooler than the patio, even without the sunshine. "Can I help with something?" I asked Shirley.

"Not really. I just wanted to mention something to you. Don't take everything Fred says as gospel, Allan. I mean, what he said at the table was true. I just thought he might be rushing you into something." She turned to face me and leaned her butt against the edge of the counter. Looking straight into my eyes she continued. "You didn't expect to be spending the afternoon and evening naked with us, let alone having Fred almost pimping me to you. You're attractive. You're even cute," she added and she grinned. "Just don't feel like you are being pressured. It's been years since we did anything outside our own marriage. We never said 'never again', or anything. We just decided to ease off a little bit." She poured a glass of wine from a bottle in the shiny refrigerator before she said anything else.




Close Shave



"If my intuition is right, Fred was telling you about Wendy and Gerry."

"He mentioned that Wendy was your sister," I said. The odd thing was that I didn't feel like I was being pressured. Both Fred and Shirley seemed simply open and honest. I sort of figured it was a little early in the friendship to be telling the kind of tales they were, but maybe that kind of openness goes along with nudity.

"I figured," she laughed. "He always loved it when she went down on him." I thought it was time for me to declare a position before things went any farther. She looked into my eyes for a long moment and then added, "So I guess you realize my brother and I used to have sex."

"As far as it goes, Shirley, I don't care what you and Fred do or don't do. I've always tried not to judge people. As for me, I have never been the kind of guy who enjoys one night stands." I quickly added, "Oh, I've had a couple, but they proved distinctly unsatisfying. They taught me that there has to be something more than just sex for me. I don't have to be in love with the woman, but I have to care about her as a person and not just what she has between her legs."

Shirley sipped her wine and watched me over the rim of her glass. Then she gave a little nod. "I like that. You put it very well." About then Fred came into the kitchen with the tray. The smell of grilled beef filled the air, thanks to the fan. My mouth watered.

We adults ate sitting at the bar and the kids sat on the floor between the couch and the coffee table. The TV was tuned to Nickelodeon. The steaks and salad were delicious.

I drank two glasses of Merlot with my dinner. After the four beers I was not staggering drunk, but I was definitely feeling lightheaded. I asked Shirley for a glass of ice water after dinner. She put a twist of lime in it for me.

The kids were hustled off to the tub and Fred scanned the channels to get the day's sports news. When Shirley returned she suggested turning off the tube and playing some pool.

Now, pool is the one sport I love. A lot of people don't consider it a sport, but I do. I'm not an expert, since I've never had the convenience of owning a table. Nevertheless, I've played enough to be pretty good. I seem to be an 'on again, off again' shooter. I mean, some nights I just can't seem to miss. Other nights I can't seem to sink a single ball. Usually, though, my game falls somewhere between those two extremes.

I had been itching to shoot a game all day, ever since I walked into the room and saw the table. As a centerpiece for a family room, you can't beat a pool table. With a light hanging over it the absolute glow of that green felt is beautiful. Fred and Shirley had spent some bucks on their table. It was a Brunswick with those braided leather pockets. I was impressed when Shirley racked the balls using one of those spring-loaded racks I've seen on television.

"You guys play first," she said. "I want to see how good Allan is before we start betting." There were those dimples again. Suddenly I wondered what it would be like to lick them. 'Whoa, boy!' I cautioned myself. I gulped another mouthful of ice water. I wondered if it would be a breach of etiquette to ask to use the guest room for the night. I realized I was in no shape to drive home. Maybe, I thought, if I played some pool and stuck to water I would be okay.

Fred and I played a couple of games of Eight Ball. There was no more mention of betting at first. I was glad since I didn't have money to waste at pool. My game was okay. I was pretty firmly in the center of my curve. I made as many as I missed. Fred won the first game and I won the second. Shirley cheered us both on.

She left the room for a few minutes and returned just as Fred was starting to rack the balls again, Shirley said, "Why don't you switch to Nine Ball?" Fred looked at me and I shrugged. I like both games. "The kids are tucked into bed," she announced. It seemed an odd thing to say just then.

Fred switched to the spring loaded Nine Ball rack. I just shook my head. Those things cost a couple hundred bucks apiece. Since I had won the previous game I broke. Nothing dropped. Fred made the 1, the 6 off the 2, and then scratched. I positioned the cue ball and shot. I made four balls before the 9 dropped as a gift off my missed shot on the 7.

"My turn," Shirley announced, coming off the stool and pulling the balls out and rolling them toward the spot. I sat at the bar and sipped my water.

"Just as well," Fred said. I thought he sounded a little bit disgusted with his game. He went behind the bar. I didn't pay any attention to what he was doing because I enjoyed watching Shirley moving around the table, bringing the balls out. She had a grace about her and the light reflecting off the table gave her skin a richer tint. Her breasts flowed with her movements, as did her hips. Once again I had to control my thoughts. My cock was threatening to pop up again.

That was when Fred slid a shot glass in front of me. I looked at the clear liquor in it. A bottle of Herradura tequila was nearby. There were two identical shots on the bar as well. A salt shaker and a bar napkin with three slices of lime rested between mine and the other two. I groaned.

Shirley sashayed (I swear, she did!) up next to me. She flashed her dimples at me and picked up the salt. She kept looking at me as she licked the back of her hand, added salt and sucked it off. She tossed back the shot and sucked one of the lime slices.

Fred walked out from behind the bar. Standing on Shirley's other side, he looked at her. She smiled wryly and nodded. He cupped her breast. Leaning down he licked the nipple. He salted it and sucked it all off with a slurping noise. He did his shot and, reaching over, he cupped her other breast in offering. Well, those dimples were daring me. 'No pressure, indeed,' I thought. What could I do? I imitated Fred.

Shirley's nipple was a rock hard berry sized nub in my mouth. And that was before the salt. I salted her well, licked and sucked it off. I made sure I'd gotten all the salt. I tossed the tequila down my throat. I love that expensive stuff, but I don't get it very often. The lime was perfect. My cock waved in the air unashamed. Shirley grabbed it and pulled me to my feet. "Your break," she announced, releasing her hold on my erection once I was standing.

I broke and watched as three balls went into scattered pockets. I made the 1 and missed on the 2. Shirley made the 2 and got lucky, putting the 9 in on her second shot. She hammed, blowing on the tip of her cue, as if it was a smoking gun.

I racked them and offered my cue to Fred. He declined, opting instead for another shot of tequila. I saw two more waiting for Shirley and me. We played again. After following her break by making the 2 and 3 balls, Shirley scratched.

I ran the table, feeling like a naked Willie Mosconi. I winked at Shirley who put on a comic pout. She gave her tits a little more of a shaking as she racked the balls again. Before I broke, she insisted we go to the bar for our shots. "I'm thinking it'll be to my advantage -- one way or another," she said.

Fred and I again used her nipples as our salt licks. In her turn, Shirley surprised me by using one of my nipples (plucking a hair from her lips afterward). It sent a thrill through me as she pressed my back against the bar and lowered her mouth to suck it. Her hairless crotch was pressed much harder than necessary to my knee as she leaned in. It all did nothing to lessen my erection, which had been bobbing around since that first shot.

While I chalked my cue, Shirley said, "Let's make this interesting."

"I think it has already been almost more interesting than I can stand," I protested.

"Well, let's bet anyway," she laughed.

"I don't have a lot of cash," I said. She just laughed.

"I was thinking about a back rub," she said.

"Well, I can do that," I said, feeling somewhat relieved. I had a feeling she was hustling me. I broke and Shirley ended up winning that game. Fred again declined his turn so I racked them for Shirley.

"What's the bet this time?" I asked. Shirley walked around the table chalking her stick. 

When she was standing so close in front of me that her nipples were pressed into my chest she looked up at me and said, "If you win I'll give you a blow job. If I win, I get to shave you from neck to toe -- except your arms, of course."

There was a booming in my head. I realized it was my own heartbeat. I swallowed hard. Before I could reply, Fred's voice came from behind the bar.

"Drink this before you answer that, Allan," he said. I didn't need to look to know there were three more shots of tequila lined up. If she could play this game, so could I, I decided. Fred again used her nipple for his salt. That time Shirley used the side of my neck -- which, if you're interested, sent a bigger shiver through me than when she had used my nipple.

Then it was my turn. I took one of Shirley's wrists in my hand and raised her arm over her head. I flattened my tongue against the hot surface of her underarm. I think the fact that I didn't need the salt shaker was more erotic than just the idea of licking her armpit. I tossed the shot back. Shirley's eyes were giving off heat waves as she lowered her arm. I had surprised her. Fred was grinning.

I returned to the table, feeling pretty cocky (no pun intended!). I chalked my cue and lined the cue ball up. The familiar crack sounded out and I watched in dismay as the cue ball sailed over the rail and bounced noisily under the couch. Fred played ball boy and retrieved it for us.

Shirley took her turn and made five straight shots. My skin was starting to pucker as I imagined what it would feel like on Monday morning when I put on my dress clothes for the office over a hairless body. My erection gave me a break by softening. I had other things to think about.

On my turn I did well. I made all my shots until all that was left was the 9 ball. I grinned at Shirley as I lined up my cue. It was a fairly simple bank shot into the side pocket. I stroked the cue back and forth. Before I shot I looked back up at Shirley. She grinned and flashed her dimples. Then she licked her lips! I shot and scratched!

Well, Nine Ball is a game that allows for 'ball in hand' after a foul. In other words, you aren't limited to shooting from 'in the kitchen', or behind the original break line. Scratching on the 9 ball is like surrendering. Shirley accepted my resignation.

"Woohoo!" Shirley's crowing rattled the glass doors. She shook her fists in the air, bobbling her tits attractively. She cackled at me and hammed, "Whatever you do, B'rer Fox, don't...throw...me...in the briar patch!" I guess I knew all along it was a 'win/win' bet for her. I had never in my life shaved south of my neck but I found the prospect of having her shave me all over strangely erotic. So I guess it was win/win all around.

Shirley checked on the kids while Fred led me back to the master bathroom. Telling me that there was a sunken Jacuzzi there was only a part of the story. It was larger than my old living room at the apartment back in Minnesota. The walls were all mirrored, mostly veined with gold. There was also another sliding door leading to the back yard.

The master bath was really two rooms. The first held the toilet, the vanity and another appliance. Fred explained it was a bidet. I'd suspected it was, but I'd never seen one in person. The second room was all tiled: floors, walls, ceiling and tub. One end had a shower. At the other end was the tub, inset below the floor and surrounded by moisture-loving plants. It was like some kind of a clearing in a jungle with the convenience of tile.

Fred started the shower. It was like no shower head I'd ever seen. It was about a foot in diameter. When he turned on the water, it showered down in a fine spray, almost a mist. "There's the other shower head," he said, indicating a massager like I had seen before. "This one is especially good for hot days, though." With that, he stepped under the misting spray. I watched for a few seconds as he twisted and turned, getting his body well moistened. When he beckoned, I didn't hesitate to step in next to him.

It had been some years since I had showered with other guys. After college I had bought a membership at a gym for a year or so. Since then, though, my showers had been strictly solo or heterosexual. Of course, Fred didn't do anything to make me think he had any intentions of changing this, but it was strange after all that time to be naked in a shower with a man -- especially when we were sharing a shower head, and especially when we were drunk. Fred had at least doubled the tequila intake I had, plus as Shirley had said, he'd been drinking since noon. A couple of times I had to grab his arm when he stumbled. 

Shirley didn't take long to join us. When she stepped in and turned on the faucet in the tub I flinched, expecting the shower to change temperature -- either freezing me or scalding me. There was no change. Fred just smiled and said, "We paid extra to have two separate services installed. It's just the same as if the neighbor turned on the washing machine." He picked a towel from a hook on the wall and went into the outer room.

After adjusting the temperature in the tub, Shirley joined me under the shower. "Are you ready to experience complete nudity?" she asked me.

"I guess I am," I replied. "I never back out of a bet." She stood up on her toes and kissed my cheek again.

As the tub filled she devoted her efforts to washing me well. When she knelt at my feet and spent several minutes stroking my aching erection I looked out at Fred. He was as fascinated as Shirley was and didn't pay any attention to me apart from what his wife was doing to me. For his part, he was moving his hand in time with his wife's, but on his own cock.

About the time the tub was filled, Shirley's hand had coaxed an orgasm from me. She directed my load at the wall where the spray washed it all down the drain. She got to her feet, kissed me again, and pulled me toward the steps leading to the tub. Fred gave me a "thumbs up" and disappeared from sight.

The two of us reclined in the somewhat warmer water and she turned on the jets. The bubbles washed around me and I leaned my head against the tiled edge, closing my eyes. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been so relaxed while being so turned on and keyed up at the same time.

Fred came back in with bottles of water for us all. He climbed into the tub across from us. There was room for at least another person, if not two or three. I couldn't imagine their water bill.

Shirley reached for a pile of towels that she had set next to the tub. Spreading one of them she patted it and told me to jump up there. She stayed in the tub. The water came to her knees. As she began to work on me she moved between my knees.

When I was arranged to her satisfaction, she picked up a regular pair of barber scissors. She used them to trim me from collar bone to my lower belly. I've never had a lot of hair on my legs so she didn't bother with the trim. Then she trimmed around my cock and balls. The sight of a sharp instrument so close to my tender parts didn't have any effect on my throbbing hard on, but my balls retracted in terror. Nevertheless Shirley was careful.

When she got out the baby oil I was surprised. I use shaving cream or gel on my face. When her warm hands began spreading it on my chest she pushed her belly against my dick. Her dimples were close enough to lick, but I still refrained.

She rinsed the razor in the hot water and began stroking it down over my pectorals. She was very careful around my nipples and they stood up in appreciation. She finished my upper chest and then poured more oil in her hand. When she lifted my left arm and slapped the oil into my arm pit I was surprised. I hadn't thought she meant to shave my pits but she raised an eyebrow when I made an objection.

"If you recall the terms of the bet I won the right to shave you from 'neck to toe'. Count yourself lucky you will get to keep the hair on your head and arms," she said. I decided not to argue the issue in case she changed her mind.

When she had done my pits and chest she turned me to face the edge of the tub. "Lean over. I need to do your back and ass." It was disconcerting to feel a razor scraping the hair off my butt, especially when she pried my cheeks apart.

Seated on the towel again, I watched her shave my legs. I couldn't stop stroking my smooth chest as she worked. There was something definitely erotic about the whole process -- and she hadn't even started on my pubic hair yet.

That came next. She smiled, but otherwise treated me much the way the barber does when he cuts my hair. For me it was an intense pleasure to feel her hand pushing my erection from side to side so she could make me hairless. The part that worried me the most was when she told me to lie back and spread my legs so she could shave between my balls and my ass hole. She didn't have to press her thumb against my anus but it felt great when she did. It served to distract me from the blade.

"Okay, I think you're done," she said. She had me stand under the shower again as she ran her hands all over to make sure she hadn't left any stubble. My reflection looking back at me from the mirrored wall was strange. The dark curls that normally covered me were gone. My nipples stood out, as did my cock. It looked bigger than I'd ever seen it.

Throughout the process Fred had reclined against the side of the tub with his eyes closed most of the time. He may even have dozed off at times. In any case when Shirley pulled me out of the tub and turned the shower on again he roused himself.

"I'm beat, Hon," he said to his wife. "I'm going to bed. Show Allan where the guest room is." He kissed her and grabbed a towel on his way out. Shirley picked up the soap with another smile.

Fred's absence removed the last vestiges of her reserve. She made no effort to hide the pleasure it gave her to wash me again. After rinsing me she patted me dry. She took my hand and led me back to the room where I'd left my clothes.

"I thought about asking you guys if I could stay the night earlier. That was before all the tequila, too." She chuckled and turned the sheets down.

"It's no problem. I certainly won't have you driving home in your condition." She glanced at my seemingly perpetual erection when she said it, but I think she was talking about how much I'd had to drink. I collapsed into bed. She crossed her arms under her generous bosom and looked down at me. The only light came from outside the room so it was rather dim.

She leaned down and kissed me lightly on the lips, her hand caressing my cock. "I know I won the bet, but would you like me to take care of this for you anyway?"

"I can only think of one other thing I'd rather have than your lips around my cock," I told her. She laughed as she got to her knees between my legs. Her mouth was wonderfully wet and warm as she sucked on me.

I'd been so hard for so long (even after the hand job she'd given me) it only took a couple of minutes before I erupted into her mouth. When it was over she slid up on top of me and kissed me again. Her ass filled my hands as her tongue slipped between my lips. "Thank you," I told her when she lifted her head.

"Thank you, too, Allan. I didn't realize how much I had missed the feeling of another man's hands on my body. I love my husband but sometimes a girl just needs more, you know? I'm lucky that Fred understands me." She let her legs straddle me and she sat up, my worn out cock aligned with her slit. The lack of hair definitely made a difference in the feeling.

She took a nipple in each hand and pinched them. "Maybe Marie won't find you so 'yucky' in the morning," she said. She rocked her hips a couple of times before she dismounted. With another flash of dimples she left me. I ran my hands over my denuded body. I thought I could get to like the feeling. 



Close Shave



My sister, Sharon caught me naked, shaving my legs in the family bathroom. 

'I thought you where in Court all afternoon.' I cried dropping the razor in surprise.

My sister dressed in her smart black skirt, white blouse and black fitted jacket raised an arched eyebrow patronisingly. 'Obviously so, brother dear but my case finished early. I wasn't required for the rest of the day.' 

Sharon was a trainee barrister at the local county court and took her work seriously. 

'Mum and dad still at work then?'

I nod nervously. Despite being in our early twenties we both still lived at home.

I tried to explain why I was shaving my legs silky smooth. All the top athletes do it. Guys at the gym do it. Even the young male A-list celebrities do it but she was unconvinced. Her bright attentive eyes dart all over my body seemingly missing nothing. She looked different, her skirt seemed particularly tight and her heels alarmingly high. Imposing... almost threatening.

'OK, OK, so you shave but why moisturise and ...' She whips the towel from around my waist. 'Do you really need to do your bikini line too?' She laughs and her eyes glisten unpleasantly. 'And hey! Isn't that my "Lady shave" and perfumed moisturiser?'

Her mobile phones tuneful ring shattered the silence that followed. I'd been saved by a distraction. She doesn't move but just stares transfixed at my long slender hairless legs.

'Aren't you going to answer that?' I ask.

She looks at the phone and her boyfriend, Sean's name and number flashes on the display. 'No, I'm through with him.' she says dismissively. I want to know more but I'm reminded of my predicament as she rocked back on her heels and let out a jail keepers hearty laugh. Caught fair and square I hoped she'd understand and show some remorse. Wishful thinking.

'I'm going to tell mum,' she says excitedly. 'I'll tell the girls at the bar, your mates at the pub and your so called colleagues at work.'

I cringe. 'Please don't,' I plead. 'Please don't.'

'Silence, silence in court,' she grins childlike and a shiver of terror runs down my spine. She was playing with me like a cat with a mouse.

'Yes...' she says slowly, 'I wonder what your city colleagues would think? Or do all the share traders shave and moisturise?' She laughs and shakes her head. 'I should feel sorry for you but with all that money and you still can't find happiness.'

I shake my head in shame. She looks at me thoughtfully and as if inspired by some great thought grabs me by the hand and leads me across the landing to her bedroom. 

'If you want soft luscious legs, darling you obviously need to flaunt them too. So you'll need to protect them from the cold? Here try these.' I stare at her blankly. She hands me a pair of sheer stockings and my heart beats so hard I fear it might leap out of my chest. I finger the fabric enviously. I stroke the nylon like a cat, careful not to snag the ultra fine mesh. I linger far too long and she knows I'm caught like a fish on a hook. Quickly I hand them back and shake my head.

'Come, come, darling, those nicely moisturised legs need to feel the sheer beauty of luxurious nylon. Hurry, don't be shy you know you want to.'

I did. I really did, but not under duress so I shake my head and that's when her mood changed dramatically. 'You young man stand accused of pampering yourself to the point of confusing your gender. The court needs to know the truth. Are you a girlish sissy or a pretty boy to whom vanity has got the best of them? Now put the stockings on,' she scowls menacingly, 'and let the sensual nylon help us decide or I'll reach a sudden verdict and tell absolutely everyone about you, my big important city trader brother who is really a silky smooth sissy who wishes he was a girl.' 

She emphasises the word "girl" and quite out of character I feel tears well up in the corner of my eyes. 'No you wouldn't, surely.'

'Wouldn't I,' she sneers, 'now stop delaying the inevitable, sit on my bed and roll these oh! so pretty stockings up your legs.' 

Why did I? I still don't know. I should have refused. Just walk away? But know... Instead I meekly did as she directed the soft fluffy towel still around my waist.

She leans against the windowsill, legs slightly apart, and her skirt stretched taught across her thighs. She crosses her arms and looks down at me with her piercing blue eyes as I roll the first stocking in my hands. 'You may begin,' she says in a tone reminiscent of an exam moderator. I cross my legs, point a trembling toe and stretch the first stocking over my foot. My body tingles and under the towel my cock begins to throb. OK, yes I'm in heaven but I curse my urges, as unless I can temper my excitement I will expose my closet fantasy. 

The stocking has an almost magical effect. I surrender to its embrace. My normal strength drained I felt like a deflated beach ball.

'That's it, darling now roll it up over those slender calves of yours. We must protect your delicate waif-like skin from the cold.' 

My hands quiver as I feed the nylon out through my nimble fingers like a professional until its stretched over my knee and halfway up my thigh. I extend my knee outwards. From my ankle I run my hands up my leg straightening the nylon, ironing out any unwanted creases.

Sharon is impressed. 'Well done. Full marks. You've done this before. It obviously comes so natural to you.'

I shake my head.

'No you can't deny it. You're as guilty as sin. Exhibit A - previous experience. I've never seen slipping stockings on so gracefully done.'

'No,' I sop, 'it must be beginners luck.' but as I crossed the other leg ready to do the next stocking my towel rose showing my obvious pleasure.

'Oh! My goodness,' she cries, 'I rest my case. Exhibit B – Stiff excited cock.' 

'No,' I sniff but even then I knew I had no defence with a cock as erect as a maypole.

'I don't understand,' I sob staring directly ahead, fighting back the tears. This isn't fair. I'm tense and you're putting me under incredible pressure.'

Sharon smirks. 'What you the city trader. Are you telling me you're not used to pressure? All those big corporate decisions, all that money changing hands. I don't believe you. Besides pressure or not you still have to put the other stocking on.'

'P, p, p, please.' I tremble but Sharon shows no remorse. 

'No privileges for a first offender,' she sneers. 

Accepting my fate I cautiously I repeat the process, hands quivering and soon I'm sitting knees together, head bowed on her bed.

'Come on darling show Sharon your pretty shaved legs,' she coos taking my hands, lifting me up to a standing position. Once erect she lets go and holding my towel pulls it off like a magician with a flick of her wrist.

My cock sticks outward proudly and I go to cover myself but she whips my hands away with a whip like "Laura Croft" crack of the towel. The room fell silent and Sharon gazed at my erect cock. She scratched her chin thoughtfully.

'Well, well, we have been keeping a secret hidden.' she giggles triumphantly, 'We can deal with that later, in the meantime every girl knows that you've got to hold your stockings up with suspenders.' She then majestically throws me a lacy suspender belt. 

I catch it and wrap it round my waist. I clip it at the front and twist the fastening to my back. Sharon smirks with satisfaction as if receiving forensic evidence to confirm guilt but remains silent. Heart still pounding I carefully fasten each suspender strap to the lacy stocking tops.

'Can I go now,' I plead. 

'No, certainly not, who said we've finished.' She flicks my throbbing cock with my towel again and drops a luxurious pair of panties on the floor in front of me.

'Pick them up,' she commands and as I do she appears to smile gleefully at my embarrassment. 'Hold on,' she barks. I crouch frozen to the spot her skimpy panties in my hand terrified to move as she rummages in her wardrobe again. 'These first,' she barks handing me a towering pair of slingback sandals. I gulp. I've never seen them before. One by one, panties still in hand, I bend demurely at the waist and slip them on each foot. They fit perfectly.

'Very good,' Sharon purrs, 'I always think a well-made pair of slingbacks enhance a pretty ankle. The shoes are so the foundation for beautiful legs.' As if on que I look down at my own legs that now looked shiny smooth, slender, incredibly long and very fetching. Secretly I was delighted. 'And now the panties.' Sharon barked.

I balance precariously in the slingbacks and step gingerly into her panties. Like the heels they fit like a glove. Even my cock seemed to wilt to allow them on. Cool as ice, soft as cashmere and as silky as satin. They drove me wild with excitement as I slid them up my legs under Sharon's watchful eye. After what seemed like minutes the cotton gusset touched my cock and I had to concentrate really hard to avoid bursting my load. And that according to her would be all the evidence the prosecution needed for a rock steady conviction.

I try another angle. 'I've not been feeling well,' I say unconvincingly. 'It's why I took the day off.'

'Nonsense,' Sharon said. 'You thought you had the house to yourself. You're dirty little mind thought you could spend hours pampering yourself like a girl then dress all sexy in my lingerie and dresses.'

'No, you're mad. I'm a realist. I'd look stupid.'

'Stupid.' She bellows, 'you know you wouldn't look stupid. You have an amazing figure. It's as I thought, your body is more suitable for women's clothes than men's. You must agree with me. The evidence is clear. Its an open and shut case.'

I look down at my feminised form and nod sorrowfully. 'I suppose you're right,' I said. I paused and looked at Sharon properly. 'You must think I'm stupid?'

'No, not stupid,' said Sharon. 'But you are a sissy and I should make you stay in my panties and stockings and tell everyone how you like to dress in lace and silks.'

I cringe with embarrassment and totter precariously in the slingbacks.

'Now,' she said clapping her hands, 'time is not a premium, where's that nice matching bra?'

'Please don't go on. This is all highly embarrassing.' I sob.

Sharon shakes her head. 'You should of thought of that before shaving your pins and using my stuff. Now silence in court while I finish building the prosecutions evidence. 'It's time to show me some more of your beginners luck.' Again she leans on the windowsill as I wrap the bra around my chest, clip it shut and like the suspender belt twist it to round my back. Next I feed my arms through the straps as Sharon satisfied with my performance pulls some cotton wool from her make-up draw.

'Stuff your cups,' she says with a smirk. 'I'll say when.'

I continue to totter awkwardly in her heels stuffing each cup with wool stretching the delicate lace cups to capacity. But to my surprise Sharon doesn't say "when". 

I catch a glimpse of my reflection in her wardrobe mirror. I look like a skinny bird with big tits. My boobs look overtly large as if I've had plastic implants and my cock keen on the idea immediately springs back to attention. They didn't look quite right.

'When,' Sharon shouts but the damage has been done. I now have an amazing figure even though I'm rather top heavy sporting a massive pair of tits. I looked curvaceous and sexy. 'Well done.' Sharon said gathering a full slip in her hands. She holds it open for me to dip my head into. 

If I thought the pretty panties where pleasurable the following sensation of creamy silk cascading down my torso almost made me cum and I stifled a groan. 

'Almost there my dear. Hold on, keep it in we can't have you getting too excited before we finish can we?'

'Please stop,' I cry. 'What do you want me to do! What do you want me to say?'

'I want you to do and say nothing just relax and enjoy the experience.'

I wasn't so sure. I was convinced Sharon had a hidden agenda. She was enjoying the prosecution far too much. 

Next came the dress. I'd seen her wear it many times before. It was a floaty chiffon dress in aubergine, with frilly three-quarter length sleeves and a plunging neckline. To top it all she gave me a scarf that matched my slingbacks. I looked incredibly fashionable. But that should come as no surprise, Sharon was a follower of fashion and even with her low salary managed to always look up to the minute.

'Look after this outfit its new.' She jotted some things down on a post-it-note. 'You are my size and... We could be mistaken as sisters. I'd never noticed before. You're remarkable.

She made me sit at her dressing table as she selected a colourful range of make-up. First she arched my brows and coated my face with foundation. Then with a ready canvas she applied mascara to my lashes, eyeliner to my eyes and shadow to my lids. She even accentuated my cheeks with some blusher and stuck on a set of brightly painted false nails. My hair was long, shoulder length and for years I wore it in a single ponytail. Sharon had never seen it undone and she took great delight in cutting the elastic band letting my well cared for locks cascade over my shoulders. She brushes it until it shone, applied a few clips to keep it from my eyes and sprayed it with some hair spray. Needless to say she was delighted. 'Exhibit C - Armed and dangerous. All tooled up.' She cried. 'You've been growing this for years so you can look pretty and feminine.'

Finally she coated my lips with a bright pink lipstick and as she made me dab them with a tissue my tortured cock could withhold its jewels no longer and erupted in a satisfying spurt. I groaned, I stiffened and it was plainly obvious what I had done.

'Good girl. Exhibit D - Sexual fluid. Forensics would love that.' To my amazement she then took a plastic bag from her briefcase and a fresh pair of panties from her draw. 'Take them off and give them to me.' I do as she directs. They're wet and heavily soiled with my excitement. She slips them in to a clear plastic evidence bag and seals them tightly. 'Now I almost have all the evidence I need.' She chuckles. 

'Good,' I say with some relief. 'Can I dress back into my own clothes now, please?'

She shakes her head solemnly 'No I'm still collecting evidence for the prosecution. I don't want you getting off on a technicality. I want this case water tight.' She took a digital picture with her mobile phones camera. Then made me pose like a catalogue model head held high pouting. 'Exhibit E - Photographic evidence.'

Fully dressed and looking remarkably convincing Sharon walks around me prodding me with an outstretched finger. 'We are now going on a journey.' She says.

'No! That's it.' I cry. 'This stupid charade has gone on far enough. You're acting like some TV police show detective.'

Sharon laughs and ignores my comment. 'It's too late to run now. Your cover is blown. I've almost all the evidence I need. I just need the verdict of a jury.'

'What, you're mad.' I scream. 'Evidence, prosecution, jury what is your game?'

Sharon laughs. 'And you're in no position to negotiate. If you don't do exactly what I say I'll send an MMS of these photos to absolutely everyone we know.'

'Please,' I wail. 'When will you stop?'

'When we have a verdict.'

She led me downstairs to the front door. Fortunately the street was empty. 

'No not outside.' I tremble, 'Not dressed like this.' I cast a hand down over my chiffon dress causing the material to float provocatively around my body.

She stares at my crestfallen face and dabs my lipstick with a tissue. 'You look stunning. Why are you worried? I really don't know. No one will recognise you... Unless of course you're terrified of the truth.' She takes a bottle of perfume from her handbag and sprays my neck and wrists. 'Don't be shy you look and now smell fantastic and remember look at those lovely, all important, shaved legs.' She lifted my dress and squirted my fresh panties with perfume.' Don't you smell lovely?

My face reddens yet my cock throbs with anticipation. 

'I want to see how you act with ordinary members of the public. Do they look through this feminine dress and see a masculine city trader or as I suspect see nothing more than a pathetic sissy who wants to be a girl.' She giggles girlishly. 'If my hunch is correct you'll pass as a pretty young lady in the street.'

I had a dilemma - behave as masculine as I could. But be humiliated and ridiculed in the street but avoid being branded as a sissy. Alternatively act how I felt. Live the dream. Move and behave just like a woman. I would escape public ridicule but according to my legal sister strengthen the case against me. I was trapped. I felt like a seventeenth century witch being tried for witchcraft. Dunk her in the village pond. If she drowns she's innocent. If she survives she's guilty. I just couldn't win. I had to think fast.

'We will go in yours.' she says picking up my car keys from the hall table.

She always loved my car but I groan aware that my bright red Porsche convertible is rather more conspicuous than her tiny Mini. 

Once outside the fresh air assaults my legs and blows through my wafer thin dress. It's so light I feel naked. I shimmy across the drive my dress rustling with the breeze, my hips swaying, my heels clicking, my stockings rasping alluringly. Unaware of my thinking Sharon opens the passenger door and gestures me to sit. The dress is short and floaty so to her delight I back into the car, lower my rump onto the seat then delicately swing my legs together into the seat well. As she shuts the door I hear her mutter "hook line and sinker". 

We drive into town in silence. The roof down so the wind blows in our hair and everyone could see us. I try to shrink into my seat but Sharon isn't having any of it as we pull up to a set of traffic lights. 'Sit up, back straight, eyes out front, knees together, hands in your lap.'

This was already well but I hardly had a lap. The skirt was so short I had to tug the lacy hem to retain any form of modesty. She sensed my nervousness and took her hand off the wheel and onto my knee. She squeezed my thigh and let her fingers wander up my stockings. I momentarily closed my eyes and imagined that I was Sharon and Sharon had changed places with Sean. I wondered what they had got up to together. My cock trembled with excitement and I began to worry if my pleasure would notice under the chiffon folds of my dress. 'Don't worry darling you look ...' We were interrupted by a loud honk from a lorries horn as the driver on the left carriageway looked down from his cab with a lecherous smile. I blush and tug my hem downwards and flick her hand off my knee but Sharon is delighted. 'Exhibit F – An accomplice,' she mutters. 'Do you know him?' She laughs and it was indeed fortuitous as the lights changed green and Sharon sped off.

After a while I got accustomed to the openness of the dress and the lightness of the material. It was a great feeling and as Sharon drove the powerful car I imagined how it must feel being driven on a date by a handsome man. I felt beautiful, special and pampered. But my dream is spoilt by my evil, twisted sister who seemed determined to ridicule me and stage a weird courtroom drama with me as the accused.

Sharon drove into the high street car park, found a space and applied the handbrake. 

'Now,' she smirked. 'Let the jury decide.'

I bowed my head and looked at my long painted nails in my lap and squeezed my knees together. Fear and interpretation etched on my face

'I want you to find your own way home by bus.' 

My jaw dropped like a tailgate of a truck yet somehow I anticipated more.

She handed me a tiny clutch bag some coins jingling inside. 'There's just enough money for a bus trip home. Let's see how you cope with being on your own. Can you carry off this charade? Guilty or innocent? Let the public decide.' She flicks her hair off her face proudly. 'And then when you're back home I'll give you, as judge, my final verdict. Sissy or simply vain.' 




Close Shave



If only it was that simple beside I didn't believe her. I knew I was guilty. I loved wearing her dress and lingerie. I'd wear them everyday if I could. I had to think fast and cut a deal.

'If you please, Sharon,' I said, my voice little more than a whisper, 'I think I have a better idea.'

Sharon glowered at me. She didn't like her plans questioned and I wasn't in a strong position to bargain with her.

'Well not better, as such.' I said, backtracking. 'But an alternative that you might like to consider.'

'Go on,' said Sharon checking her own make-up in the rear-view mirror

'You want a bigger wardrobe, yes?'

She nods and rubs her hands together thoughtfully. 'Full of the current fashions and top designer labels. And you said so yourself we have a similar figure. Well this could work to your advantage.

'I'll play your game and plead guilty.'

Guilty she interjects.'

'Yes guilty. I like wearing ladies clothes. I'm, if you must pigeon hole me a sissy.'

A smile spreads across her face. 'I knew it,' she said gleefully. 'Can I tape a confession?' From out of nowhere she thrusts a pocket tape recorder under my nose. 'This is Sharon, the time is 2.45pm and I'm interviewing my brother over the ledged sissy incidence.' She suddenly looks serious. 'Lets cut to the chase. Do you like wearing dresses? Are you a sissy?'

I heard the words come out my mouth - words I'd always longed to say, but never dared to imagine that I ever would. 'Y, Y, Yes.'

'Excellent Exhibit G - a taped confession. '

'N, N, No,' I stammer.

'To late ... now what where you telling me?'

I clear my throat and try to regain my composure. 'Why don't we pool our resources. You help me and I'll help you. Your fashion know how, support and guidance with my money. Would you mind sharing the odd item of clothing?

I smile as sweetly as I can and flutter my eyelids provocatively. 

'But -' Sharon began.

'As I see it, the choice is this,' I went on hurriedly. My humiliation and no gain or cooperation and a bigger wardrobe'

Sharon raised an eyebrow. 'So, sweet brother you're not such a dizzy blonde after all.

I lowered my head modestly

I see,' said Sharon. She thoughtfully tapped her fingers on the steering wheel.

The proposal was interesting, very interesting. For so long now she had dreamed of having an extensive wardrobe yet her meagre trainee barristers salary was barely enough to keep her clothed at work and I did earn an extortionate amount of money. Check mate I mused.

'Very well,' she said. 'But I still want some fun. I want you to purchase me a pretty pair of panties... and a matching bra and sheer stockings.' She gave me the post-it-note she'd written on earlier. 'I've made it easy for you and noted your or should I say our sizes. I need some new underwear so why not.'

'OK,' I say. 

But then she has a rethink. 'Hold on. I've made it far too easy for you now.' she scratches her chin thoughtfully. 'I therefore want you to really impress me. I would like you to buy me a complete outfit. Something special. Something you could wear as a top secretary or PA in the city. You should know all about that. What does your stuck-up secretary wear? Remember I don't want some cheap chain store crap either. Find me something designer, something chic but do remember I must be able to wear it in court too so it can't be too sexy but on the other hand not too drab,' she giggles, 'I'm sure you'll cope. And if you're your choice please me I'll agree to your idea and I won't tell anyone about your kinky sexual fantasies it will be a deferred sentence.'

'Thank you, thank you,' I said emotion sounding in my voice. You won't regret your decision, Sharon, I give you my word.'

'I hope not, sissy,' came the icy response. 'Indeed, I will go along with your idea but should you let me down, then it shall be you who will live to regret my decision.'

With Sharon's doom laden words echoing round my head, I open the car door and swing my legs out demurely.

'You'll find your credit card in the clutch bag. And if I'm really pleased with your choice you could become my personal shopper.' she giggles. 'I've always fancied one of them. Be careful with the dress you're wearing too. It cost me a fortune and I don't want it ruined. Mess that up and there's no way I'm sharing anything... And...' she paused unsure as if she should proceed. 'I think you should buy us our own apartment. We are both far to old to be living at home with mum and dad. I don't know why we haven't thought of it before.'

'You couldn't afford it.' I say rather smugly.

'Precisely,' she says with an irritated tone, 'but you can. Just imagine in our flat you could wear what ever you want. I can see you now in some of my tiny skirts and sexy long dresses. So while you're in town pop into an estate agents and get a few details on properties in the area. Now hurry up. You must get back before mum and dad return from work or ... Well I needn't go into how difficult you'll find explaining why your wearing my chiffon dress and sexy lingerie.'

I shut the car door and turn towards the high street. I hear the electrical whirl of her window drawing down behind me. 'Remember no funny stuff. Don't forget I have the all the evidence.'

'Evidence,' I say.

'Yes hard evidence including photos, a taped confession and your soiled panties.'

I blush and hope no one has overheard. I turn and walk towards the shops...

How do I get on shopping? What do I buy? What is Sharon's final verdict? Do I make it home in time? Do I buy an apartment and live a double life with my twisted sister? What happens to Sharon's man, Sean? You decide?



Close Shave



It was late in the day and I needed a haircut and a shave. I didn't have and appointment, and was hoping to just walk in and catch someone open. There was a hair shop just around the corner that I had never tried, so I walked over to check it out. As I entered the shop, I saw an older gal working on the hair of a high school girl. "Are you closing early today? I asked. "I don't have an appointment, and I was hoping to get cleaned up." Just then, a door opened from the back of the shop and in stepped a tall, blonde gal, with a great smile. "I'm open now, and not in a hurry to get home, so you're in luck. Come on back." she said, and turning, flashed me a beautiful grin. I followed her back to a private salon room that was her work station. 

As I sat down in the chair, she asked me what I needed done, and I said I was there for a haircut and a shave. She said she could handle that, and slowly lowered the back of the chair down so my head lay across the basin of the sink. She told me to close my eyes, and enjoy the shampoo. I closed my eyes as she began to lather my hair, and massage my scalp. It was very relaxing, and I was totally enjoying it. As she leaned over me to shampoo my hair, her breasts pressed against my chin, and her nipples flicked against my face, as her breasts swayed with the movement of shampooing. 

At first, I tried to ignore them, but as the shampoo massage continued, it became evident that this was not an accident. She was rubbing her breasts on me deliberately, and I was getting turned on by her. I opened my eyes, to see her looking down at me. When she saw me checking her out, she smiled again and asked me if I were enjoying the massage on my scalp. I said, "Yes. But I keep bumping into you." With that, she stopped, reached down to the hem of her T-shirt, and lifted it up and off over her head. Her breasts were now right out there in plain sight, and they were gorgeous. Perfect, firm, with hard nipples that poked straight out at me- her breasts were a dream come true. 

She leaned back over me and began again to wash and massage my hair. I stared up at these two beautiful tits dangling in my face, and I figured I might as well go for it. I opened my mouth and sucked one of those beautiful nipples into my mouth. I licked, and sucked, and licked her chest everywhere I could, as she continued to wash me. Her nipples grew more pronounced and distended, and her breathing was becoming more ragged as she worked. I was hard as could me, throbbing under the protective wrap.

She rinsed me off my hair, and toweled my head dry. Then sat me upright again. She took a straight razor from the drawer and sharpened it on a well-used strap. She began to cut my hair with the razor and comb, nude from the waist up. I was able to check her out in the mirrors surrounding us in this room. She chatted and laughed as she worked on my hair, and it was not only a very sexually-charged experience, but it was a great conversation, too. She was hot, and she was smart, too. This was a treat. 

When she completed the haircut, she asked if I still wanted a shave. I nodded, and she pulled the wrap from over me, reached down, undid my belt and deftly unzipped my shorts. Then she told me to raise my butt, and as I did, she pulled my shorts and underwear down to my ankles. She then grabbed my shirt and pulled it up and over my head. So, there I sat, pretty much naked, with a hard-on, in a barber chair. She leaned into me, and as she took hold of my cock, she softly looked into my eyes and said, "Trust me." 

She then moved over to the cabinet, and pulled out a soft, moist towel and wrapped it around my cock. It had been heated in some kind of lotion or oil, and felt wonderful on my crotch. My cock stood straight up out of the top of the towel, but my crotch was otherwise covered. She told me to lay very still, and enjoy the trip. She sharpened the razor again for several minutes on the strap, and then set the razor on the counter. She reached behind her, and unfastened the buttons of her skirt, and in a simple motion, tossed it aside on the countertop behind her. She stood before now completely nude. 

Her pussy had been shaved, and it was obvious that she was also excited. Her pussy lips were full and pouting out. I could also tell that she shaved often and was used to it, as the skin around her pussy was smooth and showed no sign of redness or irritation. She asked me if I were ready, and when I nodded again, she removed the warm towel from my lap, spread my legs apart, stepped between them, and began to massage my balls and my cock. 

She reached over to the counter and pulled some heated cream out of a dispenser, and rubbed it all over my crotch. Then, carefully, and with tremendous skill, she picked up the straight razor and began to shave my crotch. She started at the base of my stomach, and worked south. With each scrape of the razor, she removed hair from all around my cock. It was tantalizing, and kind of weird at the same time. I had this terrifying thought from some horror movie, of a psycho-barber pulling the razor across my dick and rendering me a eunuch. That thought caused my erection to soften quite a bit! 

She stopped, rubbed some more cream onto her hands, and began to play with me again. She worked my balls between her fingers, then stroked me from my asshole, up and around, then grasped my cock and worked her hands up and down on that. It only took a minute or so of this, and I was once again raging hard. She smiled with the satisfaction of seeing her effect on me. 

She picked up the razor and efficiently completed the shave. She carefully removed the hair from all around my cock and my balls, and them wiped me clean with the towel. I looked like I did way back pre-puberty, except for the considerable size of my swollen cock.

The whole time she was shaving me, she was working nude. I was fascinated by her skill shaving me, but had also enjoyed checking her out considerably as well. When she turned away from me to replace her razor, and put away the dirty towel, I was able to enjoy a long gaze at her tight ass. She had those proverbial legs that went "all the way up" and her butt was tight and one of the best rear ends I had ever seen- in life or in a magazine. 

As I admired her, she dropped her comb and reached down to pick it up. As she did, she kept her legs straight and bent from the waist, which stretched her legs muscles taught and firm. She spread her legs a bit as she reached down, and I was rewarded with a shot of her pussy that was unbelievable!

I thought that my haircut and shave was over, but as I started to rise, she placed her hand on the center of my chest, and pushed me gently back into the chair. Then she climbed right up into the chair and straddled me. She lowered her pussy onto my hard cock until I was buried completely inside her. I looked down to her pussy and saw it smooth and hairless, and me as well, and felt the very different sensations of that condition. Sexy, interesting, and VERY HOT, I thought. 

She began to move on my cock, slowly at first, alternately rising and then dropping down onto it. At the same time, she was squeezing my cock with her pussy, creating an intense suction as she rose, and then, as she came down, a wicked pump. She threw her head back, which pushed her chest out, her breasts jutting forward. As I leaned forward and gently bit down on one nipple, she gasped, then quickly started pumping her hips. 

She was squeezing my cock as she rode it fast and hard, up and down, and she began to grunt softly, "uh, uh, uh, uh" and then, "oh, oh, oh, OH, OH, OOOOOOH!" She came in a glorious burst of energy, her pussy drenching my cock, and her entire body twisting and shaking. I couldn't hold back any longer and erupted into her as well, spurting my cum deep inside her. That set her off again, and she ground her pussy down hard against me. I came and came, until we both were totally spent. She held me tightly, as our breathing calmed, and we were able to return to earth.

She hopped off, wiped me clean with another towel, and told me, "If you let it grow out very much at all, it will itch like crazy. You really should come in and shave at least every week." She smiled, and I said that I would definitely make that a priority.



Close Shave



I was stuck working late, and I had an interview in the morning. My hair was shaggy, and I needed to get it cut. As I drove home, I noticed a chain hair salon still open, and swung into a parking place. They closed in 20 min, so I figured that there would be enough time to get my locks trimmed.

When I walked in, a very sexy, dark haired woman greeted me. She took my information and guided me back to a chair. She said she was almost ready to lock up, but she would take the time to do what ever I needed. She flashed a sexy smile as I sat in the chair.

As she whirled a smock around by neck, I noticed she had a very nice shape. Her tight shirt pulled up, and displayed a very firm tummy. She noticed my glance, and smiled. She told me that her name was Zenia.

She stood very close, and her fingers thru my hair, and asked how I would like my hair to be cut. I told her that I just needed a trim, and to thin it out a bit. As she moved past me to get her trimmer, she ran her fingers lightly across my shoulders, and down the length of my arm. Her tools were in a bottom drawer, and she bent over at the waist to pull out what she needed.

Of course I checked her out. Her stretch pants were pulled taught across a very appealing ass. The material pulled a deep crevasse between her cheeks. I liked what I was seeing, and I began to take inventory of her nice body.

Her hair was long, about to the middle of her back. Her legs were slim and ran right up to that round firm ass. Her tummy was flat and slim. Her boobs were nice, about B or small C cup size. A very nice package, I thought.

She looked at her watch, and excused her self. She walked to the door and locked it. She turned off the "Open" light and turned off the front lobby lights. She explained that she had to close up the place, so that no one else could come in, while she walked back to me.

She pressed her boobs into my shoulder as she clipped here, and trimmed there. She would drag her fingers across my back, arms and shoulders, as she moved from side to side. She moved closer when she started the back of my head, brushing her boobs against my back. 

When she moved back to the front to trim, she lowered my chair, and nearly straddled me. She placed her chest scant inches from my eyes. They jiggled as she moved to and fro. I'd been to this place before, and none of the other girls had ever been so playful. I really began to wonder if she was actually hitting on me, or was just being extremely friendly.

She returned to my side and began cutting again. I decided to see if she really was hitting on me. I let my arm drop, and then when I pulled it back; I ran my hand along the outside of her leg. She kept working and did not move, so I did it again. This time she purred softly.

She raised my chair slightly, and from the side reached to get the top of my head. I moved my hand up to her waist, and along the exposed skin at her beltline. She shivered and purred again. She changed sides, and this time I moved my hand up her waist. I began to pet her tummy, just under the boobs, and another soft purr escaped her lips.

Emboldened, I moved further up her chest and cupped her breast. When I gave it a light squeeze, she purred loudly and said that it felt nice when I did that. Surprisingly though, she stepped back. I looked quizzically at her, figuring I had gone too far.

She said she wanted to complete the job, and due to the lobby lights being turned off, that would require me to come to the back room. There, she said, she would finish the haircut. I got up and followed her through a door to the back. 

There was a barber chair there, which she said they used for training and practice. She pointed to it, and I sat as I was instructed to do. She took off the smock, and tossed it to the ground. Then she asked me to remove my shirt. I was a bit surprised, but I did as she asked. 

She came over and ran her hands all over my chest. She licked my nipples and kissed them too. I was rock hard, in an instant. She let me remove her shirt. She wore a white, plain, bra. I pushed that up, and out popped a very lovely set of tits. Her areolas were full and round, and the nipples large hard. She reached around, unhooked the bra, and tossed it aside.

I suckled on her breast, and her moaning grew in intensity. She stepped back and pulled a lever. The chair reclined into an almost fully horizontal position. She reached down, undid my belt buckle, and fumbled with the button on the pants. I rose up my hips and she tugged my pants and shorts off.

"Now would you like one of my special hair cuts," she asked?

Dumbfounded, I just nodded yes. She used her fingers to get me very hard, and lowered her mouth onto my cock. She slathered it with spit, and then moved her mouth up and down. When she was happy, she walked over to the sink. She picked up a can of shaving cream, and brought it over to me. She filled her hand with the stuff, and coated my hairy balls and pubic area with it.

After one last lick of the tip of my cock, she began to shave me. I was harder than I had ever been before. I reached out and shoved my hand down her pants, finding her pussy. She moaned loudly, but kept up the shaving. She stepped back and took off her pants, and gave me better access to her near hairless pussy.

My fingers split the tender folds, and entered her body. Her juices coated my hand, and her moans filled the room. When she was done with my shaving, she got off my hand, and then cleaned my groin area. It was baby smooth, and I was hard as steel.

I was still lying back, and she climbed up onto the chair, and lowered her self onto my cock. She was so wet, that it was like sliding into melted butter. She began rocking back and forth, and then moved up and down. Her muscles clinched my cock tightly, and it was the most amazing feeling I had ever had.

I reached up and devoured her tits, while she was impaling her self on my cock. I told her that I was about to come, and she said that she wanted me to fill her up. With one mighty thrust upward, I finally released my load. She came, and her sounds filled the room. Once spent, she fell forward onto my chest.

We laid like that until we both had the energy to move. My cock dropped from her pussy, and she whimpered. I told her that I was not done yet. I rolled her over, spread her legs wide, and slathered on shaving cream. She shivered and goose bumps formed on her body. I told her it was my turn.

I shaved off the tuft of hair, and her pussy flowed like a river. I teased her clit with the handle of the razor then, pushed it into her opening. She was coming like she had never had an orgasm before.

When she begged me to fuck her, I was hard again, and I plunged into her steaming pussy. She came immediately. I sawed back and forth, building her up. Then, I flipped her over and pulled her to the edge of the chair. Again I entered her, and her juices were flowing everywhere.

I pulled out and began to coat her ass with those juices. She asked me to go easy with her ass. She liked it; she just wanted me to go easy. I nodded, and eased myself into her very tight hole.

Surprisingly my cock slipped in easily. She moaned and asked me to stop. I did, and in a moment, she said to fuck her ass, and to do it hard. She gasped, when I thrust deep inside her, but she said it felt good. I pulled back, and she came. I began a steady pace, and she matched me stroke for stroke.

Being inside her ass felt so good that it did not take much time. I told her I was ready, and thrust faster. She was climaxing, with her fingers inside her pussy, when I finally fired off my load. It felt like I had dumped gallons of cum into her, and she was writhing on the chair in ecstasy.

After pulling out, I saw that her ass took a while to close, and watched as my cum dribble from the hole. I walked to the sink, washed my cock, and returned to her. I flipped her onto her back, and slid back into her pussy. Her gasps told me that she was ready for another round.

After two more rounds, we were both exhausted. We washed off and dressed. As I paid her for the hair cut, I asked why she chose me for the fun. She said I was cute, it was late, she was horny, and the timing was right. She said that she enjoyed our time together, and hoped that we could do it again sometime.

One week later I returned, and we repeated the scene all over. We've been doing it for months now, and at times she invites a coworker to help out with my haircuts. 



Close Shave



It's been a long hot day working on the grounds.

We worked on the irrigation system, cleared the cedar brush, and took care of the dogs.

It was great working side by side all day, chatting and laughing and doing a lot of physical labor.

We're both sweaty, filthy and physically drained.

We call it a day and get undressed in the mud room. Even filthy dirty and sweaty, I can't take my eyes off your body. Your hair is a mess as it spills out from under your ball cap. I'm scanning your body and am wondering just HOW you got mud in such interesting places. You're looking over and me and give a wry smile as you see my cock stirring to attention.

We both know that we can't get physical in THIS condition, so we race each other up to the shower, running naked through the entire house. We start the water and jump into the shower together. We both take turns under the shower head so we can wash the mud, sweat and grime off our bodies and out of our hair. We are both very generously helping wash up each others bodies, paying special attention to cocks, asses, breasts and vaginas.

We're definitely getting sexually charged up, and you kneel in the shower in front of me, and take the full length of my cock in your mouth. You lips are closed tight around it and you are moving your whole head up and down, moving your lips over the entire shaft. Every time you pull back, you softly run your tongue over the head and trace the tip of your tongue down the slit at the tip of my penis. This sends an unbelievable shock down my spine, and your eyes smile up at me because you know this.

Your hand is lightly cupping and scratching my balls, and you reach back to rub the sensitive skin between my ball sack and asshole, letting your fingers move to the rim of my pucker to tease it. You increase the sucking and bobbing on my cock and work your index finger up into my ass. You're fucking my ass with your finger as you suck on my cock, all the while looking straight up at me into my eyes. The sight of my cock sliding in and out of your beautiful face, along with the incredible sensation of your fingering my ass is too much for me, and I start to spasm in your mouth. Your free hand move up to my shaft and you start to jack my cock as you're still sucking on the head, making sure that you get every drop and morsel of my sweet cream.

I pull you up to me and we share a deep and passionate kiss, and I think I can taste some of my cream off your tongue. My hand instinctively goes to your pussy, but after a few quick strokes, you pull my hand away and say "let's save that for a little later, I'm hungry." 

"Are you sure?" I ask, and you give me a look that let's me know you are.

We playfully dry each other off with over sized terry cloth towels and throw on our robes to go downstairs to get a bite to eat. 

Mmmmmmm....sushi from our favorite place in town! We eat quickly and pour a couple of big glasses of Merlot, and head out to the porch to the hot tub. It's late and the property is pretty secluded, so we drop our robes on the deck and just step into the hot tub totally nude.

The heat of the water and force of the bubbles feels great on our aching muscles in our legs and backs, not to mention our pink parts. As we relax in the hot tub, drinking our wine, and watching the stars over head, we're talking and just enjoying each others company. We're sitting on opposite ends of the hot tub, so we can see each other as we talk, and our feet are merged together, playfully massaging each other with our toes.

We're really, really relaxed, enjoying our wine and each others company, feeling the cares and pains of the day melt away in the hot tub. 

I look over at you and casually mention, "Simone, we really need to trim back that bush." 

You give me a look that says "WTF did we just do all day?" 

I grin just a bit, raise one eyebrow and look down. It takes you a moment or two, and then a broad smile comes across your face, and you squeal a little.

We hop out of the hot tub, throw on our robes, and head back up to the mater bedroom. I lay two over-sized terry cloth towels on the bed, and you lie down on them on your back. You've been in a heightened state of arousal since our shower earlier, and now the thought of what's coming has you very wet and tingly.

It's going to take me a few moments to get out all the supplies, so I hand you something and tell you "use this to relax while I get things set up." 

It's a small purple bullet shaped vibrator, about an inch longer than my middle finger, and a little bit bigger in diameter. It's powered by two AA batteries and it has three speed settings. You set it on low and move it in and out of your pussy a few times to lubricate it with your natural juices, and then start running the tip of it over your clit.

You have your feet bottoms touching and your knees splayed out to the side, to give you maximum access, and to allow me to set up for your haircut. On a separate towel near the foot of the bed, I'm setting out our supplies. A large basin of steaming hot water, a pair of sharp scissors, a can of shaving cream, a couple brand new safety razors, and a bottle of baby oil.

You are biting your lower lip and sucking in the sides of your cheeks as you run the vibrator over yourself and watch me set up. You know that the next hour or so is going to be 100% focused on you, and you relish the attention. This is part of the reason you love these regular haircuts, but time and circumstances has forces us to miss the past couple opportunities, and your pubic hair has really grown a little out of control.

You're muff is still wet from the hot tub, or is it from the copious juices that are flowing from your opening? At any rate, it means I can begin, so I pick up the scissors and take a few sharp snips at the air...the sound of the blades snapping together sends a charge up your spine, and you squeeze and release your pussy around the tiny vibrator.

I start raking my fingers through your pubic hair, grabbing at it with the spaces between my fingers, and then closing my fingers together and slowly pulling away from your body. This gently tugs at your hair and this sensation, couples with the sweet vibrations on your clit, bring you closer to orgasm.

I lean up and whisper in your ear softly, "relax Simone...you know how long these haircuts take...make it last" You move the vibrator off your clit and start sliding it in and out of your moist opening. This continues your pleasure, but at a less intense level.

On my next pull of your pubic hair, I position the scissors just below my hand, and just above your skin, and SNIP, the first length of your muff has been trimmed. You have your eyes closed at this time, but the sound of the snip again gives you a jolt, and I see your pussy contract around the vibe. I continue cutting the excess hair from the rest of your mound, getting it down to a shorter length, so it can be shaved, trimmed and shaped.

I drop the scissors into the basin of hot water, and pull out a wash cloth and wring it out. You spasm at the touch of the piping hot cloth on your sensitive parts, and then welcome the massaging feeling as I wash away all the hair clippings from your pubic area. 

"Simone please pull your knees to your chest", I ask matter-of-factly, and you readily do as you're told, so I can use the cloth to wipe down the area below your pussy and wash your ass. 

"Simone, you know I'm going to have to concentrate on your pussy area now, right?" I ask. 

"Mmmm, hmmm" you moan, with your eyes still closed and having returned the vibe to your clit. 

"That means I need you to give me the vibrator now." I remind you. 

"Nooooo", you whine, as you've been waiting all day for the pleasure it's now providing your pink parts.

SPANK!, comes the sharp smack across your exposed bottom, due to your refusal to comply with my simple request. This time I get to watch your asshole contract at the sharp sting of the slap, and you reluctantly hand the vibrator to me, with your face in full pout. Locking my eyes on yours, I take the vibe and turn it up to level 2, and then while still staring deeply into your soul, move the vibrator to your ass and slide it all the way in. It slides in easily as it's covered in your pussy juices, and you emit an elongated "Ooooowwwwww" as it goes in, but it's more of a moan of pleasure than of pain. 

I wiggle the end of the vibrator a few times, and then say "Simone, lower your legs now and hold that in place during the rest of your haircut. Again, you obediently lower your legs while emitting a long "MMMMmmmmmmmmm" at the pleasure now rippling from your ass through your whole body.

I've had the can of shaving cream resting in the basin of hot water, and now I squirt a handful of the warm lather on my left hand, and start painting it onto the areas around your pubic mound. I'm not planning on shaving you clean today. Instead I have a design in mind, so I need to maintain a patch of your pubes about the size of a deck of cards, directly over your slit. Everything else must go, including the small hairs that grow down down from your belly button, below your pussy and around your asshole. The feeling of the shaving cream being massaged into your skin, couples with the vibrations in your nether region, makes you emit another long slow moan.

I take one of the safety razors and carefully inspect the shimmering blade, to make sure it's clean, and sharp, and ready. I wiggle it in the basin of hot water and then slowly drag it from your navel to the top of the patch to be maintained, making a flesh colored walking path in the shaving cream from your belly button to your pussy. The feeling of the sharp, hot blade on your skin, and your most sensitive hairs being pulled, shaved and removed, triggers your body to commence orgasm, and your pink parts start to tense and release.

I wiggle the blade in the hot water between each stroke, to clean and warm it, and each new flesh colored path that I cut into the shaving cream triggers the intensity of your orgasm to increase and continue. It takes me a good 10 to 15 minutes to shave around your pubic mound, and you have been in a consistent state of orgasm during the whole process.

I know you don't have the strength right now to obey even if I asked, so I just push your legs up to your chest for you, so I can shave your 'taint' and around your asshole. When I lift your legs, you let the vibe slide out of your ass, because you just cannot take the pleasure of the vibrations any longer.

I ask you to hold your legs in the position, while I wring out the washcloth again, and clean the rest of the shaving cream off your pussy and asshole, in slow, warm, wet circular motions. When you lower your legs, you look down and see that you now have a pubic-buzz cut, about an eighth of an inch long, and just a small brown patch overlooking your cunt.

"Simone, I have a design in mind, but I want it to be a surprise." I tell you, "Will you be a good girl and keep your eyes closed for me until I tell you to open them?" 

"Ummm....maybe....well...I guess so" you say, as your eyes dart around and you bite the inside of your cheek. 

"SIMONE?" I say in a much sterner voice, not wanting to have to give you a spanking at this point, but knowing that I would have to if you don't give me the answer that I require. 

You get the message and blurt out "Yes, YES....I will keep my eyes closed until you tell me to open them." 

"Good girl" I say, "and remember, no peaking" This reminder makes you squeal in excitement.

I clean off the vibrator with soap and water, and return it to you. You set it back to Level one and start moving over your nipples as I go back to work.

After inspecting the second safety razor, you hear me unfold a piece of paper and lay in on the bed before you feel the sting of the razor as it moves across the remaining unshaven area. You're dying to know what the design will be, but you know the spanking you would receive if you got caught cheating, and you don't want to trade the pleasure of this experience for that kind of delightful pain, so you keep your eyes closed and try to guess what it will be from the motions on your skin.

I can't use shaving cream on this part of the process, because I need to see the edges of the hair that I'm shaving, so the sensations of the razor tugging and shaving these hairs are more intense, and you feel a slight burn on the freshly shaven areas. The vibrations on and around your nipples helps cancel any pain that you might be experiencing.

This is pretty delicate work, so it's about another 15-20 minutes of shaving and shaping. Periodically I blow on the freshly shaved areas to cool your skin and send additional sensations through your body. Thank god you have the vibrator on your breasts to keep you busy, otherwise you would not have been able to keep your eyes closed for this long.

You hear the water dripping into the basin, as I again am wringing the wash cloth, and you eagerly ask "Can I peak now?" 

"Relax" I quickly reply, "almost done baby, but you need to behave for just a few minutes longer" You suck in air through your teeth in desperation as you pout and fold your arms across your chest. 

"FINE!" you say in your stubborn girlie voice, "take as long as you need then. Don't rush on my account!"

I chuckle to myself at your mini-tantrum, especially since your knees are still splayed out to the sides, and I can see that your pink parts are inflamed, moist and shivering, and that you're not too far from cumming for me again.

I take a clean dry cloth and start rubbing baby oil on the areas that were shaved without cream. The familiar scent of the oil hits your nose moments before the soothing cooling sensations make it from your pussy area to your brain. You want to ask 'are we done NOW?', but you don't dare, because you know how close you are to your second orgasm, as well as being very close to deserving an out-and-out spanking.

Another familiar scent hits your nose now, almost like bleach, but not as strong, and you feel something soft and pointy on your mound, almost like I'm drawing or writing something. What you don't know is that it's a QTip that's been dipped in peroxide and I am indeed drawing something to complete the design.

I lean in and gently blow on your pussy now, watching your lips shiver in response to the breeze, but mainly to help the design I just bleached into your remaining pubic hair to dry. Knowing it will take about 10 more minutes to fully dry, I push your knees back up to your chest as I ask you "Simone, you trust me, right?"

Obediently keeping your eyes closed, you reply "Yes John, I trust you with all my heart"

"Good girl", I say, "I'm going to need you to keep your eyes closed until you cum...I mean until I tell you to cum....can you do that for me" 

"YES!" you say enthusiastically, even though you're dying to see this design, but knowing that being a brat will only delay your orgasm, and you need to cum very, very badly at this point. 

My thumb hits your clit at the same time my tongue touches your asshole, and your pussy and pucker squeeze in response, You pull your legs back a little further to allow my tongue to enter your ass, and your pussy opens up as my thumb flicks and circles your clit. It doesn't take long for you to reach down and grab me by the ears, and you're very glad not to hear me tell you to 'RELAX.' Instead I pull my face away from your ass just long enough to ask "Do you want to cum for me now Simone?" 

Near panting, you respond "yes, Yes, YES!" 

"Then do it, Simone, CUM FOR ME NOW" I command, as my face returns to your ass and my tongue plunges deep into your asshole. My thumb is moving quicker over your clit, and I have two fingers jammed into your pussy. You're still working the vibrator over your nipples, and from the sounds of it, you've turned it up to Level 3.

You start bucking your hips, mashing your ass on my face and making my tongue dart further up your dark, dank hole, and I swear I feel your pussy squirt your cum onto my forehead as the second orgasm rips through your body like a tidal wave. I'm holding onto your ass cheeks to keep you from bouncing off the bed you're bucking so hard, as my fingers plunge deeper into your pussy and my thumb is crashing down on your clit. Your thighs clench around my head and you squeeze tightly, and then the waves of your orgasm start to slowly subside.

You release my head from your scissor-lock and throw open you eyes, to see the results of my craftsmanship. You prop yourself up on your elbows and look down at your pussy. The short remaining hairs are cut into a diamond shape, and upside down it looks like there's a #5 bleached into your patch. You hop off the bed and run over to the full length mirror, and shriek loudly as you now see it's the Superman logo, complete with the S bleached into your pussy hair. You see me standing behind you, naked, admiring my handiwork and getting extremely hard from the outstanding review you're giving my artistic design.

In one motion, you spin around and jump on me, wrapping our arms around my neck, and your legs around my waist. You're giving me small pecks and kisses all over my face and neck, and you can feel my erection tickling your ass from below. We fall back onto the bed, just missing the basin of water, and you push yourself back on my pulsating erection, impaling your cunt deep on my cock. We start fucking with wild abandon, with me on the bottom and you bouncing on top of me. I reach up to tweak and twist your nipples as I start shooting my load deep within your womb. You continue to buck on me and then shriek and squeal as the third orgasm of the day hits you like a ton of bricks.

"Mr. N...." you say as you roll off me, and we both look down at your new pubic hair design, "you're my hero!"

"I know, Simone" I say with a smile, " and Superman has just laid claim to your pussy"

"AND ASS!" you add, as we both start laughing uncontrollably.



Close Shave



I left work a little early Tuesday, knowing my daughter had come home from college for the summer, and was expected that morning. She had a key of course, but was coming home to an empty house; Lisa, my wife, was away on business. I hadn't seen Maggie for some months, and was anxious to hear about how her life was going, and didn't want her to be alone when she came home. When I let myself in I didn't see her around; I knew she was there, her car was in the driveway, and some of her stuff was in the doorway, more in the living room. I didn't hear the television or her music, though, and assumed she might be napping as I followed the trail of debris through the house. I got to her bedroom (it's still hers, even though she is only home a few months a year) and saw the door closed. I knocked gently and got no answer, confirming, in my head, that she had taken a nap after her drive. I made my way down the hall to the bedroom I shared with my wife, planning to change, keeping quiet to as not to disturb her slumber. 

I guess it was my consideration for her nap that set the events into motion. If I had called out, or knocked harder, or made more noise, she would have known I was home, I think. But I didn't, and she didn't. And since she had her back to me in the open bathroom door, she didn't see me when my eye caught movement as I passed the partially open doorway, and heard music playing low.

I have to say I was confused at first, as I didn't recognize her. Her hair, besides being wet, was longer than it had been. It also had some streaks of light and dark in it. And I couldn't see her face; as I said, her back was turned. 

And she was naked.

Not realizing it was her, thinking maybe she had brought a friend home, I ducked a little out of the doorway and sneaked a longer look, thinking hey, it's not my daughter, so it's only wrong if I get caught looking. And I immediately assessed that whoever it was was worth taking a gander at - long slim legs led up to firm, tight, rounded ass cheeks, dimples at the top where her back started, up a slim and fit torso, long arm hiding a hint of side breast, wet hair spilled down her shoulders and back. Very pleasant to see. She had a one foot up on the closed toilet seat, the thigh muscles taut. 

And just as I thought I had seen enough to fantasize about and should duck out of there before I pushed my luck and got caught, I realized what she was doing. Her leg, as I said, was up, knee pointing off to the side. Her shoulders were hunched and her head was down. Her arms busy, one moving the other still, hands down low in front. Then the busy hand extended from her to the side, and rinsed a razor in the hot water running in the sink. 

She was shaving her pussy. 

So of course, I looked longer. I mean, it's not like I could see anything but her near-perfect ass with her back turned, and she wasn't acting all sexy like a web cam show, but fuck, there was a naked girl shaving her pubes in my guest bathroom, just a few feet from me. How could I not watch, at least a little. So I did. I watched a few more strokes, another rinse. I saw her check the smoothness by swiping her hand across the finished area, take another stroke, rinse again. Check again. It struck me that she was rubbing her fingers across her shaved pussy, and my cock swelled. Naked pubic grooming is just hot. 

I jerked away when she moved her leg off the toilet, sneaking out of the doorway in case she turned. I could act surprised. I waited a few seconds and pretended to be walking by, preparing my shocked act in case whoever it was noticed me. My eyes darted to the side to glance. 

I froze. 

She had the other foot up now, and had turned a little to the side. She had switched hands with the razor, doing the other side now. Head still down, intent in her duties. When her arms moved I could see her breasts, young and full, hanging a little as she hunched, perfect small pink nipples upon rounded globes. I could make out the mound between her legs when she pulled the skin tight from the side, as she worked diligently to remove the stubble and shave cream. Her wet hair hid her face. My cock grew more, and I adjusted it. I was fully hard.

And then she sang a little bit with the song that was playing softly. The voice hit me like a slap. It wasn't a friend of Maggie's. It was Maggie, my daughter. Guilt wracked me suddenly and my cock, the bastard, got harder. My daughter, home from school, was a fully grown and gorgeous woman and was shaving her pussy! And I was harder than I had ever been watching her. 

When had she grown into such a delectable beauty? When did the little girl I taught to ride a bike turn supple and smooth and rounded? When did she turn hot? And when did she start shaving her pussy? 

I had stopped even thinking about getting caught, enraptured by the vision of her naked body, grooming herself (for - what? - for sex?). The vision of her combined with the subtle knowledge that what I was doing was wrong possessed me so that I almost didn't realize she'd finished. She was splashing water from the sink onto her pussy, wiping away the remains of the shave cream, then took a small hand towel and dried it. And then she stood there, sideways to me, looking straight ahead. 

She took a deep breath. 

"Did you get a good look?" she asked the room aloud. And in a heartbeat she was at the door, pulling it wide and startling me, freezing me to the spot in a panic. "Well?" she asked accusingly, eyebrows lifted as my mouth opened wordlessly. "Did you? Did you see enough, Dad?" She stepped into the doorway, only a step from me. She looked me up and down. "Or do you need a closer look, so you can go jerk off thinking about your own daughter?"

"You...you..." I stammered foolishly, embarrassed to sound like such and idiot in front of my little girl. My no longer little, naked and confronting and shocking daughter. "You shaved your...self," I uttered dumbly. 

"I shaved my cunt," she postured arrogantly. Her language hit me like a slap and I startled. "So? You watched. Did you get a good look?" she repeated. Her hand went to my chest and her chin jutted defiantly. "Or do you need to see it close up?"

"Why..."

"You're staring at my naked body and shaved pussy, and YOU ask ME why?" 

"I... I...." 

"I like it this way," she said. Her lip lifted in a sneer, and her hand slipped to the front of my pants. She felt my erection. "I guess you do, too. Never seen a girl shave before?" she sneered. "Lots of girls do, now," she stated plainly. "Or have you just never seen a young shaved cunt before, live and in person?" She squeezed my cock, and the blood rushed from my head and extremities making me go numb all over except where her hand grasped me. "Whatsamatter, Mom doesn't shave hers? Never seen one except on the computer?" She closed the remaining distance between us until I felt her hot breath on my face. "Wanna see it up close and personal?" she accused. "Dad?" Her tone was a once nonchalant, derisive and cajoling.

I felt my head move, not believing I was nodding. She released my cock and grabbed the front of my shirt, pulling my near-lifeless body into the bathroom. I followed on shuffling feet until she reached the sink counter. She turned to face me, her expression filled with disdain and pity. I stepped back from her, just a step and she pulled me back.

"Oh, no you don't, Dad. You fucking perv on me from the doorway? And now you're scared?" She released my shirt and quickly lifted her butt up onto the counter. I was staring at her face, afraid to move my eyes, wanting to but resisting; knowing it was wrong, trying to turn away, failing. Her lip curled in amused entertainment at my obvious discomfort. "Look," she told me. In the lower range of my vision I detected movement. I tried to concentrate only on her face, lost the battle, and my vision drifted down. Her neck; muscles pulsing. A red blush across her upper chest, her breasts, rising, falling. Her nipples, darker, erect. Was she excited by this? Her stomach, thin skin folded over as she sat. 

And her pussy. Her shaved and naked pussy at the juncture of her slightly parted thighs. Her bare pubic mound, her tight, thin labia, crowned by her clit hood. I was breathing through my mouth. 

"Like what you see? Like looking at you naked daughter's shaved cunt, Dad?" She spread her thighs wider. "Go ahead. Get a good look, it's okay." Her voice lowered. "You're not the first to see it." Wider still. Her bare foot moved, stroked across the front of my pants, pressing my hard cock. "You like it. Everyone does." She picked her feet up and rested her heels on the edge of the counter, knees up, parted shoulder width. "Everyone likes it. You know how many guys have seen my shaved pussy?" Her knees fell open. "Girls, too, Dad." As her thighs parted wide her labia parted, giving a hint of glistening pink wetness inside. "They all love it. Just like you." 

Her words registered in my numb brain. "You show it...to...a lot.."

"Whoever I want. They all love it."

"You're a...slut in college?"

"If you like. I have a healthy sexual appetite," she stated plainly. "And I get what I want." Her fingers dropped to her pussy, stroking the smooth hairless skin lightly, then parting her lips. "Go ahead, take a closer look. You know you want to. You can't help it." Her other hand reached to my hair, pulled, and I felt myself falling to my knees. And then my face was inches from her fingers, pulling her lips open. I could feel her body heat emanating from her, I smelled her pussy. Fuck, it was incredible.  

"Do it," she hissed. "All the boys and girls do. Go ahead. You know you can't stop yourself." Her voice dropped to a whisper, saying each word slowly. "Lick your slut daughter's shaved cunt."

My last shred of resistance evaporated and so help me, I leaned in and planted a tender, loving kiss at the base of her opening, then trailed a series of them up her slit, smelling her, absorbing her, worshipping as the kisses moved up her cunt to her clit. I was enthralled. My chest tightened. My cock swelled, painfully hard. I dropped my mouth back to the bottom of her slit and my tongue emerged, touching her exposed hairless taint, and took a long, languorous journey up one side, down the other, dallying at her seeping wetness, her peeking inner lips, her swelling bud. I heard her satisfied cooing above me, felt her hands in my hair. I pointed my tongue and speared it into her wet hole, tasting the flood of sweet nectar rushing to greet me, caressed her opening, licking the slick walls at the entrance of her delightful pussy. My nose brushed her clit, and she pulsed against my face. I took several long slow licks up her full glory with my tongue flattened, avoiding her clit, then danced around her button, teasing the sides. She adjusted. I avoided. I went back to her opening, sucking the juices, licking and drinking from her, delirious. I suckled her labia. I licked her pee hole. And then I attacked her clit. 

"Oh, that's it daddy," she sighed, "lick my sweet cunt. Worship my slut hole like a dirty boy." She blew out a breath and her hips twitched as I flicked her swollen button. "Oh, yeah, you do that as good as the girls do." I sucked her button into pursed lips and pressed my pointed tongue at it. "Oh, yeah, make my pussy cum, Daddy, make me cum in your face." I slipped two fingers into her wet channel, palm up under my chin, and stroked her firmly and stepped up my tongue attack. "Fuck, yeah, I'm close! Lick my fucking cunt, dirty Daddy, lick your daughter's slut cunt!" Her voice lowered. "Do you know how many cocks have fucked the hole you're enjoying? Oh! Fuck! Yeah, lick my fuck hole!" 

I fingered her harder, and licked faster, and she screamed and her hands grabbed my head and pressed me into her, smothering me, and then my face was splashed with warmth; she released me and I pulled back, fingers still inside, and as I gasped a breath my mouth was filled as a stream of fluid shot from her, splashing my face and open mouth. I sputtered for breath as she cried out and jerked her hips, several smaller squirts fountaining from her cunt. I eased my fingers from her slowly, caressing her silky walls, reveling in her ecstatic climax. 

She eased, and exhaled, and relaxed. I stood, looking at her, seeing her satisfied and manipulative expression. She eyed me slyly. 

"Take your cock out, you perv." My face was dripping, but I didn't stop to wipe. I tasted her as I unzipped, opened, dropped my pants and pulled my boxer briefs down. My erection, harder than I could ever remember, swelled painfully, jutting from my body, inches from my little Maggie's swollen cunt. I looked up at her. 

"Will you suck it?"

"Are you joking?" she asked derisively. "I don't GIVE head, you idiot. I GET it," 

"I..."

"What are you waiting for? Fuck me!" I panted, panicked. My mouth was dry and my heart pounded. And then I was inside her, my cock sliding easily into her heat. I grunted. She laughed. 

"You fucking pervert," she derided, "fucking your daughter. Look at you! You have less self-restraint than the boys at school!" I flushed with shame as she admonished me, but my guilt and internal retribution heightened my excitement. I flushed with frantic energy, thrusting madly into her, embarrassed at my awful surrender and wallowing in guilt and erotic horror. She laughed again. 

"What a piece of shit you are. Fucking your own daughter. Losing yourself because you saw some shaved twat! Fuck! You're not even good at it! You lick cunt better than you fuck! Come on!" Her hand reached up and pinched my face, making me see her derision, plain on her face. "Fuck me! Harder! Give me some man cock!"

I grabbed at her thighs, slammed my body into her, wanting to hurt her, hurting myself. I felt my balls slapping her ass, our bodies crashing brutally against each other. She started to fuck me back.

"Yeah! Finally! You lick like a girl, but you fuck like one, too! Give it to me! Be a man, Daddy! Fuck your slut!" I smashed into her, hurting myself against her, not caring about her, feeling the head of my cock impacting the back of her pussy. She screeched. I snarled. She clawed me. I gripped her thighs, probably bruising. My jaw clenched, teeth showing, gritted. She grabbed my old ass, dug in her nails, leaned back and pulled me in harder, and came. Her squirt shot up between us, soaking my shirt, splashing up into my face. 

I shouted unintelligibly and jerked uncontrollably and exploded inside her, my hips pulsing in spasms as my cum jetted from my cock, filling her, turning her tight pussy hot and slick. I finished while she was still twitching and panting. I struggled to regain my breath and my sense. Her eyes opened, saw reason return to my eyes, and smashed it down. 

"You think that's it, you perverted old man?" she taunted. She grabbed my wet shirt, pulled me to her, and bit my lip. "Like that was good enough for me? You fucking owe me for that shitty fuck!" She grabbed my hair, pushed my chest, thrusting me out of her while pulling my head down. "I had a beautiful sexy cunt! Look what you did to it!"

I looked down, saw her lips gaping open, red and swollen, oozing my cum and hers, awful and brutalized. Used, fucked hard. "Clean that fucking mess up! Lick it out! Make it nice again, the way you found it!" She pulled my face between her legs and I didn't even resist, lost in her command of me, her use of me as a fuck toy. Her father. My once-innocent daughter. She pushed my mouth to her pussy and I licked and sucked my cum out, tasting my pungent load, swallowing it down, hoping she would be satisfied when I was done, wouldn't despise me. I was her dog, a terrible evil man who had lusted for his own daughter, licked her pussy, and fucked her. I needed to make it right, and she told me how. 

"That's it, get all that cum out, you fucking perv. God, Dad, I can't believe you fucked your own daughter. Get it all. Swallow it. And make it all pretty. Clean my slut cunt and leave it the way you found it." I didn't think it would ever be the beautiful pristine shaved mound of paradise I had seen earlier, the gorgeous swollen peach that had enraptured me. 

But I did my best. 

When she'd had enough she shoved me away. There was no cum left in her, but she was still swollen and plundered, a gaping raw open wound of our illicit joining. "Get away," she sneered. "You corrupted me, you filth." I doubted that, but hung my head in silent agreement, shamed by her accusation and my behavior. 

"I'm sorry, Maggie," I pleaded. 

"You better do better next time, you piece of shit," she snarled, and jumped down. "And if any of your nasty cum drips out of me later, if you left any behind, I swear, you'll be sorry," she threatened. 

But all I had heard was 'next time'. 

"I promise," I implored. "I'll do better, I swear." 

"Yes," she said, angling her head at me. "I think you will."