SEX ON FIRE

They're not fucking joking when they tell you not to put Veet hair removal cream near your labs. As you can imagine, I don't heed advice very readily. Pah. Labs of steel. They've been through much worse. And so I proceed to spread the Veet cream over my cunny with a vigour only usually afforded to whipped cream and lube. (I like the word cunny. I am pleased that Boardwalk Empire has lovingly brought it into the 21st century.) In a few minutes, I think to myself, I'll have a landing strip worthy of P. Diddy's private jet and the rest will be smoother than Gail Porter's head. So I give it a good fifteen minutes and make myself a brew with no knickers on. It starts to tingle. That just shows it's working! (Yes, this is my genitalia, I should probably give more of a shit but, well... it's only hair removal cream.)

It seems they don't advise using it on the inside bits!

Nothing appeared to be wrong until I put my thong on and left the house. I spent the rest of the day throwing discretion to the wind and trying in vain to pick the stringy fabric from my bits, to alleviate a pain that can only be described as taking rough sandpaper to your most sensitive area. (It's not easy when you're wearing skin tight jeans, to stop your thong from rubbing.) As the day went on it got worse and when I visited the ladies, it was official. My cunny had been given a chemical peel and the remnants of skin were everywhere.

Imagine having this up your crack.

Later that day after several applications of Johnson's Baby Lotion, my husband, having caught sight of my new coiff  ("I like your cunny's new hair do!", the word is really growing in popularity...), suffered the beginnings of a hard-on, that in my mind, was definitely not to be relieved, unless by his own hand or my mouth. Feeling generous and myself slightly turned on by the Jenna Jameson look I was modelling, I stripped him off and licked the tip of his cock until it sparkled with saliva and  pre-cum. Then I took it, achingly stiff, into my mouth; sucking it hard, up and down, occasionally taking over with my hand so I could move onto his balls (which he regularly and so thoughtfully de-fluffs for my pleasure... should I tell him about Veet??) ...all the while granting him an unprecedented view of my new 'hair do' as I straddled him backwards, teasing myself with the close proximity of his face. The sight must have overwhelmed him because before I knew it, I was on my back being slammed into, whether my newly peeled cunny approved or not. When you're that turned on, a bit of pain is quickly over-powered by a deep relief when you finally get filled up and pounded really hard, in exactly the right spot.  

Cumming in to land...

As it stands, I have the cunny of a 16 year old again! So as I push 30, my vagina looks virginal. Things always work out for the best... It is however, a cruel fact of life that we're not destined to have great sex without a whole lot of effort. This is where most marriages go wrong. Sometimes you have to do whatever it takes to keep things moving. And I mean whatever it takes. Veet's not even the tip of the iceberg...


Aeroplane picture courtesy of Allan Tegers Bodyscapes - http://www.bodyscapes.com/