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They didn't realise they had an audience.

"I'm going to shave you." You sit on the shelf at the back of the tub, calmly drying your legs, but I can tell you're a little nervous. I shake the can of shaving foam and lay the razor next you on the shelf, then kneel beside you.

"You'll be careful, right?" you ask hopefully.

"Of course. I don't want to damage that perfect little pussy." I lean forward a flick a drop of water of your nipple. I'm not surprised that they're hard, poking forward from your delicate little breasts. I can feel the dampness of my pre-come leaking in my pants and imagine that your pussy juices are flowing too. Then you hear the spray of the foam as it aerosols out of the can and onto my fingers. "Spread," I order, and you move your knees apart, giving me access to your sweet pussy. I gently lave the foam over the short pubic hairs, deliberately massaging the foam into the softest flesh on your tender body. Your labia are engorged and puffy; this will be easy.

You reach a hand out and grab my naked shoulder, partially to steady yourself, partially to feel connected to the arm and hand that will hold the blade which will be soon touching your pussy. I turn the hot water tap on and warm up the razor. My cock is pulsing now and oozing as your lather-coated pussy is right before my face. "Good girl," I say, "Don't worry; this will be fast and easy."

I bring the blade to your pussy, and gently swipe down, removing the hair neatly. The blade is new and sharp. I swipe down the other side, holding the flesh of your lips between my fingers to give a straight area to shave. You're holding your breath, but from the flow of lubricant you're producing, I can tell the fear is an aphrodisiac. I shave the delicate little hairs of your peritoneum (the 'tween--between your pussy and asshole) and then work on the delta of hair over your mons. Should I leave a "landing strip"? I wonder. Or maybe a little triangle of fuzz, pointing towards the center of your pleasure and mine. I decide to leave a thin strip of short hair--just enough for you to know that you're a full-grown woman.

You're fingers are digging into my shoulder involuntarily, and only loosen their grip when I say: "Done." I run the sponge under the tap and wash away the remaining drops of foam. Your pussy is clean and smooth and I can't resist leaning forward and taking a lick. I feel you fingers again against the flesh of my collar. But not yet. I don't want you to come yet.

I stand up, and you can see the outline of my hard-on against the fabric of my suit pants. You reach out to stroke my cock and then quickly pull down the zipper and dig it out. Even though we've been together some time, you're surprised by how wet my underwear are, how much pre-come I've spilt during this episode. You've got my cock out of the fly now, and grab my ass and pull me towards you, sucking me into your mouth. I love how you suck my cock, but want to wait. I have something special in mind; I pull out. "Not yet, my cupcake."

I put the shaving things away, and toss you another towel. "Put that on and go into the lounge and enjoy your wine," I say. "I'll be along shortly." You wrap the towel around your waist, and take the glass as I've requested. You look like a Tahitian maiden from "Mutiny on the Bounty" walking out of the room, long black hair flowing, naked except for the sarong-like towel around your waist.

I go into the bedroom and take off my shoes, socks and suit pants which I hang up. My underwear are soaked, but I leave them on, hoping the dark spot in the front will please you. On the way from the bedroom to the lounge, I stop and grab the bottle of wine so I can top up your glass. When I enter the room, you're sitting on the sofa, gently stroking your pussy, happily surprised at the clean-shaven look and feel. I fill your glass and you feel my cock straining against the fabric of my briefs.

"Take me," you implore. "I need you to fuck me."

"I will," I say, "in time.

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