Chapter 48
She’d lined the bed with a big towel and pointed out where to lie down. I took off my panties, all nervous, trying not to show it, but my eyes were glued to the phone on the side. Next to the bed, on a chair, she’d set up everything: the jar of wax, a spatula, some creams, tweezers. It looked like an improvised clinic.
“Love, rub this cream all over you, nice and even, okay?” she handed me the tube.
I took it and started spreading it on my skin, but I confess: I barely heard what she was saying. She was talking about the procedure, explaining details, seeming almost amused, but I was spaced out. My mind elsewhere, just waiting for my phone to buzz.
“You’re super nervous, girl. Relax.” she said, laughing.
I laughed too, nervously.
“It’s not because of this, Diana. I’m just waiting for him to call… I sent a pic asking how he wanted it, you know?”
She looked at me, raising an eyebrow, that mischievous smile appearing.
“You little devil. But you’re really gonna go through with getting waxed just to please a guy?”
“Ah! What’s the harm? Poor thing!”
“Ten minutes ago you were saying guys are no good. Is yours?”
I sighed, kinda embarrassed:
“I wouldn’t bet my life on it…”
And right as I finished speaking, the phone buzzed. My heart jumped. I grabbed it quick and read the message.
“Holy shit, Jujube, that looks delicious, I got a hard-on here at work.” It was him responding.
“Work, right…” I said out loud, under my breath. Diana, who wasn’t dumb, caught on right away and gave a knowing look, like she already knew what was up.
With both hands, I fired off the reply without thinking too hard:
“So show me… let me see it hard, come on?”
I laughed, satisfied, and hit send.
“What is it, why are you laughing?” she wanted to know, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, I sent a nude. He said he had a hard-on and I wanted to see.” I said without shame.
“You’re on fire, girl.” she replied, shaking her head, but you could tell she was amused.
And the torture began. First, the hot touch of the wax dripping. Hot as hell, like it was burning, but at the same time it sent this weird shiver up my belly that made my scalp tingle. She spread it with the spatula, firm, going over it several times to make it stick good. I was shrinking up, laughing nervously.
Then came the touch of her hands adjusting, stretching the skin with her fingers. That left me even more flustered, because it was way too intimate — her hand there, opening space, adjusting, like she had total authority over my body.
“Breathe…” she warned, with the calm of someone who knew I was gonna curse.
A quick, sharp yank.
“Ow, holy fuck, that hurts!” I yelled, twisting around, almost kicking the towel.
She laughed at my face, all professional-like, like she hadn’t done anything big. I lifted my head and looked. Smooth. Not a hair in sight. The skin red, hot, burning like fire.
It hurt like a bitch, but I was stunned: it looked good. This weird fresh feeling, like I’d peeled off a whole layer of my life with it.
“Keep going…” I said, biting my lip, brave, but with my eyes locked on the phone next to me, waiting for it to buzz again.
Diana went back to spreading another portion of wax, blowing lightly before applying. The sound of the spatula scraping already gave me chills. I knew: each pull was like a stab.
The phone buzzed beside me — a photo. I nearly died wanting to open it right then. But if I did, Diana would want to see too. And I did want her to see, for real… but if she got pissed, I’d leave with half my pussy waxed or she’d use the moment to make me feel real pain, and I wasn’t in the mood for torture. Better wait. And the pain, fuck, the pain didn’t let me think straight.
She started at the top, right on the “forehead” of my pussy. She spread it slow, blowing again, and I was already shrinking up, laughing nervously.
“Hold on, girl… take a deep breath.”
RIP!
“Holy fuck, Diana!” I slapped the mattress. “Feels like you ripped my soul out with it!”
I lifted my head: smooth, smooth. I looked and laughed, kinda dumb, because it looked like baby skin. And it burned like hell.
Then she went to the outer lips. I was already sweating. The way she stretched with her fingers made me more nervous than the pain itself. It was too intimate, like she was playing with me, holding back to watch my face.
“Ow, no, not there!” I complained, but it was too late.
RIP!
“Ahhhhh fuck, shit!” I screamed loud, biting the towel.
It burned, stung, but along with it came this weird feeling, kinda electric. I shifted on the bed and felt my whole body tingle.
“You moaning, Jujube?” she laughed mockingly. “Gonna say you’re liking it?”
“Fuck off, Diana…” I replied laughing, but my chest was heaving up and down fast. “I’m dying here.”
Then came the final part, the ass. I froze.
“Diana, no, not there… leave some hairs for memory!”
“Shut up and stay still.” she replied serious, but the smile at the corner of her mouth gave away the mischief.
She ran the spatula slow, real slow. The heat hit deep, and I didn’t know if I should laugh, cry, or cum.
“Hold tight…”
RIP!
“AHHHHHH!” I screamed, but at the same time I started laughing uncontrollably, slapping the bed. “Holy fuck, that hurts so much, but… damn, feels like a shock to my ass!”
Diana burst out laughing with me, cleaning up the wax remnants. I was still shaking, between pain and this damn hint of arousal that made no sense.
Smooth. Burning all over, but smooth.
I’m terrible at telling stories, but I’ll say: it wasn’t bad. What’s really bad are the positions. Holy fuck, especially when doing the back. Having your ass spread open, holding it like a plucked chicken, is super weird.
In the end, she grabbed something to clean it all up and remove the wax bits. She pressed hard, like she wanted to rip off what was left of my skin. I was moaning in pain and she was laughing at my face. But then came the cream… oh God. What a relief. Immediate comfort, like the burning vanished by magic.
I got up to check the result in the mirror, holding the lips with both hands.
“Good thing, I thought you’d ripped my clit off too!” I said laughing, still scared to look right.
“Idiot!” Diana shot back, laughing too.
I grabbed the phone from the bed. Took a deep breath. Looked at her, thinking one last time if it was worth it. I could just show a chat with him, but there was nothing there to spark her interest. I could drop his name, but then she’d laugh and say: “uh, mine’s named that too.”
No. I had to be dead on. The photo was the proof. With his dick on the screen, she couldn’t deny it. Fuck if the dyke didn’t recognize her own boyfriend by his cock, right? That’d be her problem.
But I needed to set it up nice. Couldn’t hand it over on a platter. I had to make it so she thought she’d discovered it all herself, not me.
The phone was burning in my hand, and I — who ain’t worth shit — let it slip without thinking twice:
“Look… I think he sent a photo back.” I said casually, like it was no big deal.
I swiped my fingers quick on the screen, heart pounding. There it was: guys are dumb animals. His cock, unmistakable, right there. And to make it worse, he wasn’t “working” for shit. In the background, you could see his bed, his damn shorts tossed aside. He doesn’t work in shorts.
If I’d been home, in a different mood, I might’ve even rubbed one out to that pic, because he was a hot bastard. But there… there it was something else. The arousal gave way to a dizzy spin.
I laughed, forcing it to sound natural.
“Wanna see, Diana?” I said, biting the corner of my mouth.
She widened her eyes a bit. “You don’t mind me seeing your boyfriend’s dick?”
“What’s the problem? Look…”
“Alright then…”
I flopped down next to her on the bed, my body still hot from the waxing, and turned the phone toward her. The silence that settled was heavy. I could hear her heart beating along with mine.