All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
"they're going to shave me, you know."
"why dont you let me do it for you?"
she'd said she would do anything for him.
but this made her pause.. the things that aroused her--not always things
could explain or control--had always been private. her body, nature's
of woman, had kept her needs and involuntary responses shielded, nested
until she was ready to be caressed, revealed.
he knew nothing of what was going through her. he was there before her,
smiling, mischeivous, excited, with shaving gel and a razor. he felt
he was 10 and going to see a bare-naked girl, going to see "everything"
the first time.
the first touch of cool gel turned quickly to warm soft cream, as he
it gently with fingertips, soaking into her curls, soaking into the roots,
where the cloaked skin was pigmented, a permanently rouged mouth.
the blade felt good. it hugged the skin so tightly, the first stroke was
friction and harvesting the rich growth, the second stroke to each small
was all shock, sensation, air, and blood pushing up to inflate the surface
it had started already. he would be able to see it happening. from now
when he drew the blade around her clit, her face reddened. she was in an
ecstacy of humiliation and arousal. he could see what was happening and
began to make soft appreciative remarks. to reassure her, of course; but
secretly, to increase her vulnerability. "mmm, darling, your clit looks
big, now...do you know that it doesn't fit between your lips at all? it
won't lie down at all, wants to see everything..." he playfully pressed
lips up around it to hide it for a moment, then let go. it was getting a
lovely little curve to its upper surface. thickening. firming.
once her mound and lips were fully bare, he gave them one last pass with
blade. then a warm wash-cloth and some baby lotion. she was still
composed, but realized that the effort was now a lie, was futile. she'd
him do it. it was done. she could try to stay concealed by underwear,
the little humped button would show through everything she owned.
the realization threw open a door somewhere. her eyelids fell, hiding
she had learned: that now she must integrate her desire--her
desire--into her pride, her sensuality, her style, her aggression, her
it was finally revealed.
without a word, she looked at him. then she looked down. pressed her
forward to she how she was presenting herself. then looked back at him.
a brand new expression was on her face. soft-mouth, wide-eyed, all
"will you shave my pussy for me every day, so you'll always know when i'm
little baby, so you can always see my clit all puffy and sitting out
waiting for you, waiting like a nipple to be suckled, waiting like a
to be deeply kissed...."
"Yes" he inhaled "i will." he exhaled.
She smiled with melting sweetness.
Over the next while, her actions came under the control of her exposure.
She'd contrive to let him see her as she left the shower, her pussy
magnificently distorted and swollen, the outer lips ballooned, the inner
standing up as thick ridges, her clit large and meaty and red with the
of the water that she'd turned on herself over and over again until she
couldn't bear to be touched....
Each day, after he shaved her, she'd let him lick the brand new skin. She
called it her baby lotion. he'd lick and she'd say, "it's a little sore
the top" and he'd gently wet the new skin around the base of her clit and
watch her clit stand and harden before he'd suck it, and she'd watch it
disappearing between his lips again and again. He'd lift her ass from the
bed she lay on, and hold her up and curl her forward so that her pelvis
almost in front of her face and she could see his every warm sliding
and she'd watch her wet flesh pulsing, as though it was a movie. She
fantasized that it was her own mouth on her clit and thought about what
would do....... She'd stare in fascination as his mouth retreated during
orgasm, as he played only with the tip of her clit, as he stroked her with
flat-tongued dog-laps only to her inside-out cunt, so they could both see
clit swell and turn deep red before he fell to sucking on it desperately,
while the screams tore from her and the cum tore from him as his hand
furiously at his cock.
she'd walk by him, wordlessly, and dress. she cut small circles out of
her clit would be caressed by her clothing. she'd coat her inner thighs
heavily with vaseline and sit across from him with her legs crossed,
squeezing and releasing until her face reddened and she stared him down in
her blinding glow.
One evening, they were dressing to go out. he walked into their room.
had asked for a second shave that day, one more before the evening out
him. She was standing with one leg up on the stool of her dressing table.
A tube of red lipstick was in her hand. She was carefully stroking the
creamy bloodstain onto her clit, into the rose-petal texture and tiny
of the hood and onto the smooth shiny head, and down her cuntlips. then
slowly, softly, smoothing the pigment into the skin....looking at the
in her mirror and rouging a little more. He stopped breathing. She
up at him.
He walked to her, naked from the shower.
she kissed him, and as she did, she wrapped a leg around the back of his
thigh and pressed against him. On the front of his thigh, was the mark of
her, the print and shape of her. a long red oval. like a brand.
one day, in his mail at work, he opened a card to see that same print with
written above it. and her name written beneath it. He walked, quickly,
down, breath coming hard, to the men's room, the card in his pocket,
into a stall, took out the card, and held it in front of his face. he
pumping his cock through his fist obsessively. he could see how aroused
had been when she made the print. how she had tried to redden the insides
her cuntlips, but the wetness had not led the lipstick hold. the thought
going home and shaving her was dizzying him. he could feel his lips
her sweet baby clit as his cock hardened under his stroking. he moved
card down, held it under his cock, and came violently onto her cunt-print.
the warm semen lay in pools over the red artwork in his trembling hand, an
image that burned him with desire.
Since he'd shaved her, she hadn't let him fuck her once.