If you would have told me a few months ago that I would be in a salon, naked from the waist down, on all fours, ass in the air, with a near-stranger -not from any medical field- waxing my starfish...I probably would have laughed and said, "maybe".
Really, in my life I guess it's not that far out of the realm of possibilities.
35 minutes of ripping hair from it's roots in my most sensitive of "parts" was not as much fun as I thought it would be. Yes, you spread 'em. Yes, EVERY nook & cranny is invaded. Yes, it's red and swollen for...well, it still is. I'm pretty sure my gynecologist has spent less time down there.
And, with tip, I spent $75 for this. I am a masochistic retard. Yes sir.
And, now I hardly recognize my old friend. It's a little "porn star". Or at least "amateur porn enthusiast".
I didn't go completely cue ball, but there ain't much left. I don't think I will take it to this level next time. I don't like to feel so alienated from my friend, my now-violated cooch.
Though, give me a few days & I'll forget. I'll probably have already scheduled my next appointment.
Next time, just a little off the sides, please. Maybe a little off the top. Oh, and the back...
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