Hair Down There

Posted on 5th March 2013 in Journal, Wicked Wednesday

This week’s Wicked Wednesday prompt is “?+?=?” and “me+hair=:(” here’s why;

So, Sir had me grow, and now has me maintaining, a landing strip. I thought I’d get used to it, maybe even grow fond of it, but I haven’t. Every time I shower I want to shave it off, I want it to be gone, to be quite honest, it disgusts me.

I’ve shaved my lady parts since hair appeared so it’s not something I’m used to seeing, I’m not a fan of any kind of bush on females in general so to see it on me is something of an issue. (If anyone is interested I love hairy men so go figure).

I’ve kept waiting for the moment where I look down and think “oh it’s not so bad,” and it hasn’t come and I know that if we broke up it would be gone seconds later. But I want to please him, to make him happy, and he likes it so I have to deal with it.

I’ve tried looking at porn with hairy ladies in it to desensitise myself to it, so to speak, but so far no luck.

Anyone got any suggestions? How to learn to love something you hate?
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Wicked Wednesday: Writhe

Posted on 27th February 2013 in Erotica, Wicked Wednesday

The plane journey has been long. Oh so long. I sit in my seat, not really knowing what is to come, what to expect when I step off that plane. Without a bra and without panties I haveĀ traveledĀ from my home to his, nervous, scared, flying into the unknown.

I writhe. In anticipation. In expectation.

I collect my bags and leave, seeing him, seeing her, finally, my cunt twitches. I approach slowly, worried I am not what they expected. Not hot enough, not sexy enough, not anything enough. But they smile at me, Sir grins, nodding to the bathrooms. I flush but the wetness between my legs gives me away. He knows, they both know. I take my bags into the bathroom and he follows me.

I pick a stall and wait. So nervous, heart pounding, but writhing. He enters, I know it is him, and my door swings open almost of its own accord, knowing how much I want this. He shuts the door behind him and lifts my top up, no words pass his lips, not even a hello. He gropes me, feeling my tits, running his hands over my stomach, around my waist, back to my tits, squeezing my nipples while I bite my lip trying not to give us away.

I writhe. In fear. In pleasure.

He lifts my skirt, grinning to see I have obeyed his orders. His hands explore me and I blush, turning my head away, unable to look at him. A hand wraps around my chin and turns my face towards him.

I writhe. In shame.

His fingers explore me, he turns me round, examining every inch of me. He bends me over, spreading my ass cheeks. I feel fingers begin to explore inside of me, violating what has been just mine for so long.

I writhe.

I hear the sound of a zipper and swiftly he takes me. I cannot help but scream and soon find a hand over my mouth as he pounds into me. Stretching me. Using me. Abusing me. I feel his cock pulse inside me, and he is done with me. He pulls out, zips up and leaves. I collapse on toilet.

And I writhe.

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