by Kiki Archer
Susan lifted her head up again. “Ummmm.”
Jenna unclipped the bra and pulled it down, moaning slightly as she took in the beauty of Susan’s naked top half. “Wow.”
Susan blushed even harder and started to fan her own face. “Oh Jenna, I’ve been trying so hard to play it confident, but I think I’m about to have a heart attack.” She glanced at the switch by the door. “Can we please turn off the lights?” She spoke quickly. “I want this, I do. I promise you I want this.” She fanned even faster. “And I need this, trust me, I really need this.” Susan felt herself quiver as she whispered the words, “Jenna, I need you to touch me.” She paused. “But I’m shy. My boobs are just there. They’re out. It’s embarrassing.”
Jenna slowly lifted her hand to Susan’s chest and cupped the left breast, circling the nipple with her thumb. “I want to see you, Susan, I want to see how you respond.”
Susan dropped her head back down onto the pillow and moaned with satisfaction. “How’s this?”
“Good,” whispered Jenna, moving her lips back to Susan’s. “Be confident, you’re beautiful.” She kissed her again.
Susan gasped as Jenna switched hands and tugged even harder on her other nipple. “I’m so turned on,” she moaned, suddenly realising where Jenna’s other hand had gone. She lifted her head once more. “Ummmm.”
Jenna moved her hand away from the buttons on Susan’s jeans and pulled herself off the bed. “Susan, I’m not having your ummms interrupting us every two seconds.” She smiled. “I want you to sit yourself at the headboard and watch me.” She smiled again. “Just watch me.”
Susan swallowed deeply and slowly shuffled herself up the bed, fully aware of the point Jenna was about to make. “Shall I dim the lights?”
“No,” said Jenna laughing. “This is me. This is my body and I’m proud of who I am.”
Susan glanced to the floor as Jenna reached behind her own back and took off her bra. “Look at me then,” she said, smiling.
Susan drew her eyes up and felt her heart quicken as she noticed the sculpted stomach and the full breasts. Jenna’s skin was a warm peach colour and her muscles were toned to perfection. “You’re incredible,” whispered Susan.
“I haven’t finished yet,” said Jenna, playfully displaying her dimples.
Susan watched as her old classmate pushed down the sloggi bottoms that had been hanging so sexily just below her waist. The first thing that Susan noticed was the strength in Jenna’s thighs.
“I’m a skier,” said Jenna, spotting the attention. “They’re all muscle.”
“Your figure’s amazing.”
“And so is yours,” said Jenna, stretching out her hand to Susan. “You have the perfect tiny waist, the perfect pert breasts, and your nipples were made for my mouth.”
“Jenna,” gasped Susan.
Jenna kept her hand outstretched. “What? They were, and I want to taste them. Come up here. Let me undress you. I promise I’ll take it slowly.”
Susan swallowed. “Ummmm.”
“Okay, okay, okay,” said Jenna, dropping her hand. “I’ll take it all off first.”
“No, I didn’t mean that, I…” Susan watched with her mouth wide open as Jenna slipped off her knickers and kicked them to the floor.
“I don’t want us to have a fumble around in the dark, Susan. I want us to have full, proper, raw, passionate sex where we can do whatever we want, whenever we want, and we’ll only get that if we’re completely comfortable with one another.”
Susan wasn’t listening. She was fixated on the entirely bald area between Jenna’s legs. “Ummmm.”
Jenna lifted her hands in the air. “This is me, Susan, and I want you to experience all of me.”
“Ummmm … you’ve … you’ve got no hair at all?” Her voice was timid.
Jenna continued to chat away, not caring in the least that she was standing there completely naked. “Of course not. But you understand what I’m saying when I say we need to be comfortable with one another, right? Our connection’s so intense that we’re going to get carried away here, there, and everywhere and I don’t want you constantly thinking, ‘oh no, it’s too light,’ or ‘what if she sees my bottom?’ You’re beautiful, Susan, and I want to see you. All of you.”
“Do any lesbians have hair?” whispered Susan.
“No, of course not. It’s 2013. Genital hair’s been bred out of the lesbian species.” Jenna paused and took stock of Susan’s wide eyes. “Sorry, no, I’m exaggerating.” She sat back down on the bed and smiled. “Lots of women have little landing strips, or maybe, you know, those tiny little triangles.” She paused. “Is that what you’ve got? Everyone’s different and I haven’t got a preference. I just want to see you, Susan, and I want to hold you and kiss you and make love to you.”
Susan coughed lightly and bent down to lift Jenna’s pink top from the floor. “I want you to see me and I want us to do this. I want us to do all of this.” She smiled. “But I need a drink first. A cold one. And I promise I won’t stop us again, but I need a cold drink first.” She held onto her boobs as she slid off the bed and grabbed Jenna’s sloggi bottoms and bra. “Is there any chance you could pop down to the bar and get us some drinks? No one’s around. Marcus is in bed and Sylvie said she was going over to The Tavern to try and patch things up with Delphine.”
Jenna stood up and took the clothes from Susan. “You want a cold drink?”
Susan nodded quickly.
“Okay,” smiled Jenna, kissing Susan on the lips and moving both of their bodies towards the wall. “It would be my pleasure.”
Susan gasped as the kiss got deeper and Jenna’s naked breasts pressed harder into her own. “I want this,” she moaned, finding it difficult to stop, “b-b-but I need a drink first.”
Jenna pulled away and took a deep breath. “Okay,” she said, quickly throwing on her clothes. “Give me five minutes and don’t you dare go anywhere.”
Susan waited for the door to close before dashing straight into Jenna’s bathroom. She pulled down her trousers and stared in horror at her huge thatch of freshly washed bouncing black pubic hair. Compared to Jenna’s bald eagle it looked like she’d got a prize winning topiary hedge growing between her legs, or a genuine 60s afro with added hair extensions. She gasped and pressed on it gently, watching as it sprung back into position: something that she’d been terribly proud of only an hour ago.
Susan panicked. She’d spent a good ten minutes, when getting ready, plucking away at the odd runaway hair on the inside of her thighs or the base of her stomach, and had assumed that that degree of preening would be enough. How wrong had she been? Susan Quinn took a deep breath and looked down at herself once more. Her muff was plump. No, it was more than plump. It was vivacious, and up until now she’d considered it a fairly redeeming feature. She didn’t have a minge with long or lanky lengths of hair, she had a muff that was fully thatched and laughing with life.
Susan caught sight of herself in Jenna’s bathroom mirror and watched as the colour drained from her face. It has to go, she realised, scanning around the small space for any signs of a sharp instrument. She spotted Jenna’s stripy wash bag resting next to the sink and reached for the zip, sighing with relief as she saw the electric lady shave nestled neatly in an inside pocket. She pulled it out and switched it on, reassured by the powerful buzzing and the tilting blades. Susan silenced the machine and yanked off her bottom half, quickly lifting the lid of the toilet. She sat down and spread her legs, positioning the shaver at the top of her thatch. She’d just mow it all off, she decided, quickly flicking the switch back to life. With one swift action Susan Quinn plunged the machine deep down into her mountain of muff. Her scream was shrill.
“Ahhhhhhhhhh!” she cried as the blades ripped the hair from the root.
“Fuckkkkkkkk!” she screamed as her muff started to matt.
“Nooooooooooooooooooooo!” she wailed as the stabbing got slower and the churning got louder and the buzzing ground to a sudde
n halt.
Susan Quinn almost threw up. The pain was utterly unbearable. Matted amongst her mound of pubic hair was Jenna’s shaving implement of choice: a top of the range electric epilator that used forcible extraction to rid the body of hair. Susan leaned backwards and was momentarily relieved by the cool toilet seat pressing against her naked back. She bit her bottom lip and told herself not to cry. She had time, she thought, moving forwards and supporting the machine with one hand. She rose from the seat and hobbled to the sink, reaching for the wash bag and praying she’d find some scissors. Susan gasped. No scissors. She told herself to calm down and unclipped the pocket at the front. It was tight and she struggled to push her fingers all the way in. She patted around and discovered a loose tampon, two hair grips and a large amount of crushed up facial power. Susan wailed in despair and leaned over the sink, knocking the epilator out of her grasp and sending it swinging between her legs. She yowled out in pain as her prized pubes were stretched taut, and fell to her knees in an attempt to scoop the machine back to the safety of her bush. Susan dropped backwards onto her bottom and was about to close her eyes in defeat when she spotted the small manicure box on the floor next to the pipes. It must have fallen, she realised, grabbing it quickly and flicking it open, praying she’d find something sharp. Her eyes widened at the sight of the two small implements: a pair of nail clippers and a metal nail file.
Susan pulled herself up and waddled back to the toilet. She sat down, making sure she lowered the epilator as she went. Taking a deep breath, Susan looked at the two tools. She opted for the sharpness of the nail clippers first and dropped the nail file back down to the floor. She held the tangled machine in her left hand and pulled it as taut as she could handle, gripping the small metal clippers in her right hand and starting to snip. One singular, rather damaged pubic hair broke free. “Noooo,” she gasped, trying to repeat the action more quickly. One more broke free. Susan’s eyes widened at the mound of muff that was still completely entangled around the blades of the machine. Snipping would take far too long. Maybe the file would slice it off instead? Susan dropped the nail clippers and reached for the metal file, pulling the machine taut once more. She started to saw. Nothing happened so she pulled even harder and thrust the file forwards and backwards at speed. Still nothing happened. “Noooo!” she cried in total despair.
“All okay in there?” asked the voice.
Susan looked at the door in horror. “Yes, I’m fine, it’s…” She dropped her head down to the mess between her legs and found herself at a total loss for words. “It’s, I’m—”
“Can I come in?” Jenna sounded concerned.
“No, I’m in a mess, I’m…” Susan felt the tears begin to gather behind her eyes and the lump that had formed at the back of her throat was making it very difficult to talk. “I’m, I’m, I need…”
“What do you need?” Jenna pushed on the handle. “Something’s wrong. I’m coming in.”
“No!” shouted Susan, trying to cover her boobs and her mangled muff all at the same time.
Jenna glimpsed the sight and stepped back behind the door, leaving it slightly ajar so she could talk, but at the same time save Susan’s dignity. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were on the toilet.” Jenna paused realising what she’d just seen. “You’re naked, on the toilet? Are you okay? Why are you naked, Susan?”
Susan didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know what to say. She’d never been in such a jaw-droppingly embarrassing situation in her whole entire life. What choice did she have but to sniff back a tear and admit defeat? “I’m so sorry, Jenna. I need your help.”
Jenna burst back through the door and dropped onto her knees next to Susan. “What’s going on? Are you ill? Are you in pain? What can I do?”
Susan looked down and slowly removed the hand that had been covering the mound of mangled muff. “Get rid of this?”
Jenna gulped. “The grass on the field or the lawnmower that’s stuck in the bush?”
Susan started to sob. “I didn’t know I was meant to be bald.”
“Oh, Susan, you’re not!” Jenna smiled. “Look at you, you’re so…” she pushed lightly on the plump hair, “…bouncy.”
“Stop it.”
Jenna leaned backwards and tilted her head to the side, absorbing the full effect. “I like it.”
“No you don’t. It’s ridiculous. Look at me.”
“I am,” smiled Jenna. “I like it, and if we can’t break the ice now, then we never will.” Jenna stood up and pulled on the mirror above the sink, opening it up to reveal a row of shelves stacked with further toiletries. “Here,” she said, lifting a pair of scissors and a bikini trimmer. “You didn’t fancy using these?”
Susan closed her eyes. “I was in such a panic that I only looked in your wash bag.”
“And you decided you’d use my absolute bitch of an epilator to minimise that muff?”
Susan laughed despite herself. “I thought it was a regular lady shave and I should have asked, but I was just so embarrassed. I’m so sorry.”
“Okay, lesson one in the removal of hair.” Jenna tapped the pink bikini trimmer against the palm of her hand. “This is for that,” she pointed at the machine stuck in the mound of muff, “and that is for here,” she bent down and stroked Susan’s legs, “and in there,” she nodded towards the shower, “is a razor blade that I use under here,” she lifted Susan’s shoulder and stroked her underarm skin.
“Jenna, please don’t. I’m sitting on your toilet, completely naked, with a terrifyingly painful epilator, that I can’t for the life of me understand why you’d own, even if it is just for your legs, but you do own it and it’s wrapped around my pubes, and there’s nothing about this scenario that’s even remotely arousing. So please stop.”
“We’ll see about that, shall we?” smiled Jenna as she dropped to her knees and pushed herself between Susan’s legs. “I’ll need you wider,” she smiled.
Susan lifted her head and looked to the ceiling, taking a sharp intake of breath and trying to transport herself to another place entirely.
Jenna started to snip. “You’ve got yourself pretty churned up down here.” She nodded and chopped away quickly. “But now you’re free.” Jenna lifted the epilator with triumph.
Susan glanced down and looked at the machine that had clumps of curly black hairs sprouting out from the blades. “I’m so sorry. I’ll buy you another one.”
Jenna chucked it in the bathroom bin. “No. I always hated that bugger. Right, what’s next?” She studied the muff as if she were a surgical specialist.
“I want it all off.”
“Really?”
“Of course. That’s why I dashed in here and put myself through this. I want you to want me, Jenna, and I know I have absolutely zero chance of that now you’ve seen me like this—”
Jenna moved forwards and silenced her with a kiss. “This is better than anything I could have imagined. Don’t you realise how comfortable you’re going to be with me now?”
“I’m not. I’m dying here.” Susan shook her head. “Can’t you tell by the colour of my cheeks?”
“You’re actually looking pretty pale.”
Susan gritted her teeth. “That’s probably the pain.”
“I can imagine. That thing tears each individual hair from the root.” Jenna nodded. “You may need some cream, but not until I can assess the wound in its entirety.”
“Stop talking like you’re a doctor.”
“Don’t spoil my fun. I’m role playing, and you, madam, may need an internal.”
“Jenna.”
“What? Spread ‘em, I’m snipping.”
Susan closed her eyes as Jenna continued to cut away at the bulk of the hair. “Someone kill me right now,” she muttered as the embarrassment burned through her body.
“Oh don’t be so dramatic,” said Jenna laughing. “Now, would the lady like a short back and sides?”
Susan sighed. “Doesn’t anything faze you?”
; “Not if it’s not important, no.” Jenna tapped the scissors against the toilet seat before dropping them to the floor and reaching for the pink trimmer. “This is funny. We’ll laugh about this in years to come.”
Susan opened her eyes and watched as her old classmate slowly started to shave away the remaining hair. “You think we’ll stay in contact?”
Jenna paused and looked up. “Of course we will. I think you’re brilliant, Susan, and I want your friendship.” She smiled. “I want you in my life.”
Susan swallowed as a lump caught in her throat. “I’ve never had a friend like you.”
Jenna continued with the trimmer. “Everyone needs their own personal pussy pruner.”
“Stop joking around. I need to thank you. You’re being so great with me.”
“Only because I want to get you into bed.”
Susan frowned. “Still? After all of this?”
“Fuck yes! Look at you! Your legs are spread and I’m slowly revealing the sweetest little—”
“Stop it!”
“I am! You’re beautiful and I’ve no idea why you were hiding this perfect pussy under that pile of pubes. It’s the same with your clothes. You hide yourself, Susan. You’ve got one smoking hot figure going on and you should show it off.” Jenna handed over the trimmer. “Here, I’ll leave you alone. You finish off the underneath bits and use my razor if you like, but then you must do something for me.”
Susan blushed. “What?”
Jenna stood up. “I want you to stand in front of this mirror and look at yourself. Really look at yourself, Susan.” She smiled. “And then I want you to walk into that bedroom with the confidence that your ridiculously sexy body deserves.”
“I can’t, I’m—”
“Susan, stop. You’re sat on my toilet completely stark naked and I’m more aroused than I’ve ever been. My fingers have been so close to you but I’ve had to hold myself back. I want you Susan. I want to hold you and touch you and,” she signalled to the red dots that had started to appear at the top of Susan’s pubic area, “I want to kiss you better.”
Susan swallowed deeply. “Give me a minute.” She blushed. “And do you by chance have some Savlon?”