Body Hair

I’ve never been a fan of body hair. I would prefer to snap my fingers and be soft and smooth. Unfortunately, that doesn’t work for me. I have a pale body and more black hair than any person on earth. It feels that way, at least. It started when  The Socialites and The Husband began checking on me while I was in the shower.

“Hey, you ok?”

“Uh… yeah. I’m taking a shower. Why?”

“Just checking. You’ve been in here for about an hour.”

An hour?  What the hell was I doing that was taking me an hour? I was shaving.

 

I’ve been shaving my legs since I was in the 5th grade. I begged my mother to let me do it when school started so I could wear shorts with pride. She made me wait until Christmas break. When I was in 6th grade, I think I shaved off a bug bite. There was some skin missing and a lot of blood. Other than that, no mishaps. I have to shave every day to have smooth legs.

I don’t remember when I started shaving my armpits. Probably, it was before my legs. But by the time I was 15 or 16 I was shaving my pussy. I tried little designs and cute shit. Always something small. I quickly moved to hairless. It was smooth and soft. And it moved to slippery really easily. Maybe that’s what’s so captivating, there’s no hair to interfere with seamless exchange of texture.

I’ve never used a mirror to shave my girl stuff. One hand always led the other.

I like a bikini wax, but it hurts like fuck. And so far I’ve found a few pieces of that blue wax  stuck in questionable places. Thanks, Natalya. But the place I go is fancy and the girl is quick about it. Those usually last about two weeks. For me, that means a week, solid.

I shave my arms in the summer. That started when I was a teenager. I was at a pool party and met my very first swimmer. He was slick. I’ll leave it at that.

 

Would I Like My Partner Shaved?

Honestly, I’d love for them to be as bare as I am.

I’ll take a nice, tight trim.

There’s no way I’m going down on a sweater.