© 2003 Dale H. West. All rights reserved.
To read more of Dale’s writing, visit her on-line at http://dalehwest.com

La Pogonotomie

The setting sun cast shadows through the windows in the room as the two
sat reading. Jo leaned back in her small recliner, browsing the Sunday
classifieds. Mitchell stretched lazily across the couch working on the
crossword puzzle. It was a typical Sunday evening, enjoying the last
moments of rest and quiet company of two before returning to the busy
distractions of work on Monday.

"Listen to this."

Mitchell filled in the last two e's of "epee" in 24 down before turning
his gaze toward Jo. Jo waited for those eyes before continuing. She
often read interesting snippets from the paper to him, and he always
seemed a willing listener.

"White couple, she's BWPF... bi-white professional female, five foot
three and long blonde hair. He's six foot two, straight WPM... white
professional male, and muscular. Both shaved, seeking shaved BWF... bi
white female for fun, romance and sex. DD free... I wonder what that
means... oh, disease and drug free, expect same."

Jo looked up from her paper. Mitchell was still looking at her.
Wrinkling his forehead he waited long enough to see if Jo was going to
say more.

"And?"

"I take it by saying they are ‘both shaved' they don't mean the guy
doesn't have a beard and she shaves her legs and pits."

Mitchell set the crossword down on his stomach. He pulled the cap off
the back of his pen with his teeth, and inserted the ball point end
into it with a decided click. "No, probably not. Sounds kind of kinky."

He watched as the smile gradually broadened across Jo's face.

"Sounds like it could be fun!" Jo retorted.

"Really, now. For whom?"
"For both of us."

Mitchell leaned up on an elbow and set his part of the paper on the
coffee table between them.

"I've seen pictures of women shaved down there. I always figured they
were shaved because they wanted to portray themselves as little girls
to men with pedophile attractions. I don't think I'm that interested in
‘little girls.'" Mitchell paused a moment to gauge his wife's reaction.
Her gaze remained steady. "You know you aren't a little girl anymore,
Jo." Mitchell winked knowingly across the room.

"Both of us know I'm not a little girl. But I don't think it has to mean
that at all, especially if you shave too."

Mitchell dropped back to his back and stared at the ceiling. He and Jo
did have quite a varied and interesting sex life. He thought back to
the sex they had shared that morning. He had a hard time saying no to
his wife. What could it hurt? If it turned him off or was uncomfortable
the hair would always grow back. He wondered if the guys at the gym
would notice - heck, they would probably be impressed. He took in a
deep breath and exhaled slowly.

Still staring at the ceiling, "I get to shave you first," he relented.
" I've seen what you do to your legs some times. I'm going to have to
teach you proper shaving techniques before you put a sharp blade on
me."

"You are going to teach me something new?" Jo retorted playfully. She
put her hand across her breast bone and let her jaw drop in mocked
shock.

Mitchell sat up on the edge of the couch. "You just wait and see. I'll
meet you in the bathroom in three minutes."

"Two!" Jo countered as she flapped the classifieds down on top of
Mitchell's half completed crossword and jumped out of her chair.
Keeping her eyes locked on Mitchell's over her shoulder, she strutted
to the bathroom, opened the door and slipped inside. The latch clicked
softly as the door closed behind her.

Leaning with her back on the door she began to wonder what she had just
got herself into. She closed her eyes and thought over this morning's
encounter. She loved waking up to finding Mitchell still asleep, but
hard. "A hard man is good to find," she would say as he opened his eyes
to her manual efforts. It saved a great deal of time for those morning
quickies. It usually meant Mitchell paid extra attention to her,
getting her to an equal level of arousal before they played together.

Mitchell watched his wife as she slyly closed the bathroom door. How he
loved her and her unending child-like playfulness. He kept his eyes
locked on hers until the door came between them and he heard it latch.
Walking quickly but quietly to the den he searched their CD collection.
Settling on Miles Davis' Bitches Brew he put the discs in the player
and turned the volume up so they could hear it in the bathroom. The
plunking bass and wanting horn filled the room with music sure to suit
this mood.

Back in the kitchen, he took two tumblers out of the cabinet, turned to
the refrigerator and pushed each one in turn against the ice cube
dispenser button. Clink. Clink. Clink. He set the glasses on the
counter and selected a bottle of Cuervo 1800 for himself and the Dewers
for Jo from the liquor cabinet.

He heard some rustling coming from the bathroom as he poured the two
drinks. Imagining Jo ‘in waiting' he lifted a glass in each hand and
swirled the cubes around in the liquids to cool them. He brought the
glasses down and watched the liquor mix with the melting water on the
surface in each glass.

As he approached the bathroom, he hesitantly knocked on the door.

"The student awaits the teacher," he heard Jo say from the other side.

Without spilling the scotch in his right hand, he wrapped his available
fingers around the knob and twisted it. The door swung open to reveal
Jo, completely nude, and leaning provocatively against the vanity, her
legs crossed, her hair down and over her left shoulder, her arms
supporting her on the edge of the vanity causing her shoulders to move
up toward her ears. He handed her the glass of scotch, which she gladly
accepted. As she wrapped her fingers around the sweating tumbler, he
noted her hand shaking slightly.

"Nervous?"

"A bit," Jo paused, biting her bottom lip. "You?"

"I'm not really sure. But I am sure that you have me very excited."

She looked down to see the bulge in his pants proudly declaring his
feelings then looked back up into his eyes. "We always have our escape
word."

"I don't think we'll be using it tonight."

Mitchell opened the linen closet and selected several hand towels and a
couple wash cloths. Turning, he set them to the left of the sink. He
reached under Jo's arms and lifted her up onto the right side of the
vanity. Opening one of the drawers, he gently lifted her right ankle
and set her foot on the edge of the drawer. Her left foot he lifted by
the ankle as well and set it behind the faucet of the sink.

He stepped back a moment to take in the scene. Jo was astride the sink
and vanity; her head leaned back into the corner of the walls, her
hands outside her legs. He looked down her abdomen to where her hair
started. Her fur was thick and curly. Now it was about to change.

Inside a lower vanity drawer he found a pair of scissors. Placing a hand
towel and wash cloth in the sink basin, he turned on the hot water to
saturate them. The scissors opened and closed with a metallic noise as
his hand practiced working them in the air.

"Let the lesson begin," he whispered as he knelt and bent his head down
to the task at hand.

Gently he trimmed the hair. Snip snip. Snip snip. The scissors worked
around her curves while Jo closed her eyes and let the sounds and
smells of the experience envelope her senses.

With his left hand he pushed the hair against its normal lay while his
right hand cautiously but confidently worked the scissors. Snip. Snip.
He brushed away the hair and gently blew across her mound to remove the
hairs his hand would not. The loose clippings he brushed off the vanity
to the floor.

The snipping stopped. Jo opened her eyes and looked down to see Mitchell
examining her. His gaze was that of an artist, pondering the adequacy
of his work - not a lover seeking solace in another's body. She smiled
and let her head rest back against the walls of the bathroom. How she
loved and trusted this man. The feeling of him caring for and
maintaining her body caused a swell of eroticism in her chest. She felt
suddenly sexy, loved and excited.

With all the hairs shortened, Mitchell removed the hand towel from the
sink. It was nearly too hot to hold, but he placed it over Jo's now
trimmed pubic hairs.

Jo quickly sucked in her breath and looked at Mitchell with a start.

"Uh, that's a wee bit warm."

"The key to a good shave is lots of hot water. Is it too hot?"

Jo let her mind test her senses for a moment. "I guess it is bearable."

"Good then. It needs to be as hot as you can stand it."

While the hot water soaked into Jo's hairs, he opened the vanity and
removed a new razor from a plastic package then set it on the vanity
between Jo's legs. Turning the hot water back on, he put a puddle in
his left hand then squirted some shaving lotion on top. With the three
middle fingers of his right hand, he mixed the foam with the water. He
removed the towel from Jo and worked the lather into her remaining
hair.

"Whew. Little tingly there."

Mitchell looked up with a knowing smile, meeting Jo's eyes. "Yeah. I
bet. You okay?"

"I'm fine." She settled back into her corner position. The menthol of
the shaving cream burned in her exposed lips but at the same time it
stimulated sensations entirely new to her.

Mitchell turned the hot water on full and held the razor underneath its
stream. His fingers turned the handle so the blade worked under the
water, warming the cold metal. Hot water, hot blade; just like his
father taught him when he was a teen removing the first peach fuzz of a
beard from his face. He imagined what his father would think if he
could see him now. A smile escaped across his face with the thought.

"You sure you are ready for this?"

"Uh, huh," Jo replied from her relaxed state.

Mitchell took a swig from his glass of tequila and repositioned his
knees on the floor between his wife's legs. He raised the razor up to
above her right leg and made a smooth stroke down its inside with the
blade. The blade filled with shaving cream and foam was caked with her
short hairs, so he turned the hot water back on and rinsed the blade
clean.

Moving the blade to the other leg, he made a matching stroke from above
Jo's leg to inside. She didn't move. Her breathing had become slow and
relaxed as though in a deep state of meditation. It wasn't the soft
breathing of sleep, but deeper and more engaged. He looked up, but this
time she did not look down. Absolutely motionless except for the rising
and falling of her chest from breathing, she appeared to have put
complete trust in him.

Returning to the task at hand he worked the razor over her virgin skin.
He used his free hand to pull tight the folds of her labia. Each stroke
returned the razor to the hot water for rinsing and heating. Once an
area was clear, he would take the hot wash cloth and wipe away the
stray hairs and foam. Occasionally he would reapply some shaving cream.
A small tuft of hair, an inch above her clitoris, he left trimmed but
alone. "I want her to still look like a woman," he thought to himself.

Finally done, he rinsed the wash cloth from the hairs and washed her
thoroughly, then took a clean dry towel and dried her skin as well.
Standing up, he opened the medicine cabinet again and found some talc
and lotion. He knelt and rubbed the lotion into Jo's freshly shaved
skin and followed his ministrations with the talc. He shuffled backward
on his knees to take in the view of his work. His love's sex was
revealed to him in a way he had never seen before. It was barren of the
random, curly pubic hair. Now it was open, clean and inviting him in.

Jo woke from her meditation. Putting her chin to her chest she looked
down. Her left hand rubbed over her body where she had only a short
time earlier been covered in hair. Now it was smooth. She looked at
Mitchell. He looked proud - almost smug.

"Nice."

"I think so," Mitchell replied, proud of his work. He was surprised how
appealing the lack of hair on Jo was to him. It was not like the
pictures he had seen in Playboy. This was real and it was beautiful to
behold.

Jo took another sip from her scotch. The ice cubes had melted down to
tiny slivers floating on the top of the alcohol. "You are a good
teacher."

"Is the student ready to try now?"

Jo lifted herself off the vanity. Standing before her lover, she got
down on her knees. She took his shoulders in her hands and pulled
Mitchell to her for a deep kiss.

"I'm ready if you are," she said as she released him.

Mitchell stood up, leaving Jo kneeling. He undressed while Jo took in
the work he had done more closely.

"I think I'm going to like this," she said examining herself with her
hands and eyes.

"Remember, lots of hot water, and be sure to keep the blade hot too,"
Mitchell reminded Jo as he hopped onto the vanity and found solid
places to rest his feet for his turn.

Jo stood to rinse the hot cloths in the sink and clear out the razor.
She left the water on low to soak the washcloth and hand towel while
she looked over Mitchell. Using the scissors to trim, she lifted and
moved Mitchell to get underneath wherever it seemed long enough to
trim.

Mitchell watched intently as Jo paid close attention to the task at
hand.

Following his lead, she took some hot water in her hand and lathered up
some shaving lotion and applied it generously on his balls and at the
base of his shaft. He was partially erect, which made shaving his base
easier, so she started there running the razor down and rinsing after
each stroke.

Holding his slippery anatomy was a bit of a challenge, but she took her
time and rubbed on more of the foamy hot water and cream mixture. She
had to stretch his skin tight in directions she had never pushed or
pulled before to get a surface taught enough to run the razor across.

Nearly twenty minutes later, Jo washed off the final remnants of hair
with a fresh wash cloth. She had left a "T" pattern in Mitchell's hair
behind where his fly would be. When she worked on this area she though
about all the fancy patterns she has seen guys shave with their beards
and side burns. Why should this be any different? Besides, Mitchell had
left a Groucho looking patch on her in the same space.

Mitchell had watched her the entire time.

"What do you think?" Jo asked.

"Looks different. I like it."

"I can already imagine a number of advantages to this," Jo said as she
applied the lotion and talc. "I feel bad but I'm tired after
concentrating that hard. I think I'll take advantage of you tomorrow.
How ‘bout going to bed and snuggling?"

"Mmmm. Sounds good to me." Mitchell examined himself, using his hands to
inspect Jo's work more closely. "I'm ready for bed myself. Nice job. I'm impressed."

"Lots of hot water, just like the teacher ordered."

© 2003 Dale H. West. All rights reserved.
To read more of Dale’s writing, visit her on-line at http://dalehwest.com