Kinky and filthy things that have happened to us, all explicitly told

Tag: #Mira (Page 11 of 23)

We All Knew What Was Going To Happen (Part One)

The lockdown was very harsh on relationships. I know how lucky I am to have come through it with stronger relationships, both with my husband and Victoria. But Nikki and Laura weren’t as lucky.

Nikki split with her husband very shortly after lockdown 1 was announced. She had slowly been coming to the conclusion that she and her husband weren’t happy or after the same things, and the thoughts of being cooped up for weeks with each other was the thing that triggered the change. It was amicable, and they still fucked for a while, but they finally went their separate ways after lockdown 1 was lifted. A few months later, Nikki found herself another man, someone she described as an absolute gem, apart from the fact that he was so vanilla he didn’t even warrant a flake. I’m amazed she’d settle with someone that vanilla, and she has said she is working on him, but for the time being, she won’t be joining in with a sex party. Nevertheless, I’m really happy to see her moving on with her life.

Laura was somewhat different. Her husband just upped and left her and the children the day lockdown started. He’d been fucking an 18 year old at work, and he went to spend lockdown with her. Laura had no idea about the affair, and had her world ripped out from under her, at a point where she had very little support (despite our best efforts). Here was a fabulously sexy, increasingly kinky, and totally devoted woman who he turned his back on for a younger model only a few months older than his own children. Laura is far better off without him.

Her focus at the beginning was the children, the house and stability, and sex and sexiness were nowhere to be seen. She had twins and they were in the first year of their A-levels, so she wanted to provide as stable a situation to allow them to succeed. My husband and I felt a bit helpless, but nevertheless, we were there for her as much as rules would allow. As she said, at times of adversity, you really find out who your friends are, and our relationship got closer than ever. I have to say Laura did an amazing job holding it together for the sake of her teens, and I know they were appreciative and did as much as they could to help.

But right from the moment her husband confessed to her what he had been doing, she was adamant she wouldn’t take him back. All trust was gone. A few months down the line when he tried to get back with her, she made it very clear they were done. He can’t have his cake and eat it.

But over the last few months, Laura was starting to get the itch, starting to feel like she wanted to be fucked again, like she deserved to be fucked again. Especially in the months before they split, she had become somewhat addicted to sex. She loved nothing more than howling like a banshee whilst cumming her brains out.

In the intervening time, she had spent a fortune on sex toys, mostly funded by her online shop selling her stash of cotton panties with messages written on them. After her initial apprehension, she got to rather enjoy the individual requests for them, masturbating in them, exercising in them, pissing in them, pictures in them and pretty much anything else her purchasers wanted.

She had nearly disposed of them all, so she bought some new ones to carry on the trade. We supplied her with message ideas, some of which were far filthier than those she had previously. She had made life hard for herself by never having the same message twice, so each pair was unique, and therefore, she could price them accordingly.

But toys and selling panties increasingly wasn’t enough to satisfy her. She wanted touch, she wanted kissing, she wanted groping, she wanted masturbating and above all, she wanted cock.

And as we could start to actually meet, still within the rules, the discussions got filthier, and the sexual tension got higher. We all knew where this was going, even though no one said it.

Remember, I’d fucked Laura before at our sex parties, but this was pre-Victoria moving in, and my husband wasn’t able to fuck her then because of the party rules. Like me though, he’d seen her fuck and was really eager to get her screaming on the end of his cock. I knew how she used to rave about him ass fucking me against a wall, so I’m sure without her husband to stop her, she’d be there against the wall begging to have her asshole pounded. And then there was Vicki. The discussion between them had been ludicrously filthy.

All those years of being a mother and of quelled passions were behind her, and there was a fiery vixen waiting to come out, and we were just the people to bring her out. We agreed quite a bit beforehand that if the possibility came up for any of the three of us to do anything with Laura, then we were free to do so, without telling the others in advance.

But the first time we were allowed, a pantyless Laura was sitting on her sofa with me waiting for my husband and Victoria to get there. Laura was going to get the dose of cock she so craved today, she was finally going to meet Vicki in the flesh (so to speak) and finally I was going to taste Laura’s lovely cunt again. But probably more importantly, I could give her a big hug. She needed that too.

And the hug turned into crying and then sobbing, and as she regained her composure, she openly spoke about what she needed, more openly than I’d ever heard before.

It wasn’t long before our arms were entwined, our lips pressed together and our tongues doing gymnastics, and the longer we kissed, the more my cunt wanted in on the action.

We broke the kiss and looked at each other, just holding hands. It felt so good, but I knew what would feel better. I let go of her hands and started pulling at her flimsy summer dress. It took little persuasion to slip off her shoulders. She was wearing a front-loading bra, so I could unhook it and reveal her 32G tits, which in a moment should be pressing against mine. Laura got the idea and slipped my dress off my shoulders and reached round my back to unhook my bra and took it off my tits.

Once our tits were revealed, our arms entwined again, our tits pushed against the others and our lips and tongues recommenced their gymnastics. We stayed in our clinch for ages, enjoying every second of lip contact, every second of tongue contact and every second of tit contact. There’s something lovely about two fleshy tits pressing into each other, the rock hard nipples clashing with each other, the flesh squeezing against each other.

We were in that position a good time later when Vicki entered the room. (The front door was left on the latch, as we thought we might get distracted.) I’m glad Vicki got there before my husband did, as no doubt his cock would take centre stage when he arrived. Laura was clearly enjoying the kissing and the tit contact, and I was hoping to taste her cunt again before my husband sullied it with a big dose of cum.

Tasting A Girl (Part Two)

Melissa had just given me the biggest orgasm I had ever had, shaking me to my core. We sat back on the bed and cuddled and kissed for a bit, as I was recovering and working out how to repay the favour. I was hopeful I was going to taste my first cunt in only a matter of minutes, and I was trying to remember technique from my male lover at uni, who was pretty good at getting me to cum with his tongue.

When I was ready, I started to work on her nipples again, also licking down between her tits. She brushed away my hair from my face and told me to do what I thought, not just to copy her. That was my invitation to plant my face between her legs and lick her out, something I was dreaming about for weeks before.

I slowly moved my hands down under her dress and hooked my fingers over each side of her panties, easing them over her ass and onto the floor. I thought that was symbolic – removing her panties before I finished taking off her dress. The dress was soon to follow though.

There in front of me was this totally majestic woman, her bald cunt was the first bald one I had ever seen. I gently pushed at her belly and she got the hint and sat back on the bed, her ass right on the edge. I lowered myself to my knees, as she pulled the pillows over and leant back on them. I delicately kissed at her cunt lips as I remembered my male lover doing, before starting to work my tongue along her folds, around her clit and flitting in and out of her canal. I really didn’t know if I was doing it right, but I heard moans of contentment coming from Melissa, so I concluded I was heading the right way. I tirelessly worked with my mouth for what seemed like hours (but could only have been somewhat less), and as my tongue was starting to tire, I used my fingers to additionally start working on her clit. I have to admit I was somewhat mean to her clit, pinching it and rubbing it in an unforgiving way, quite brutal in some ways, but her back was arching and she was taking it all.

And then, suddenly, the magic happened. She came, and my mouth was flooded with her wonderful juices. I eagerly lapped them up, as I heard Melissa say “Gently”. I slowed down and cleaned her up a bit, then left her cunt. She sat up and we kissed, us sharing her juices between our two mouths. It was very erotic.

We spent the next while cuddling, smiling, and laughing as we suddenly felt very comfortable with each other. Then she went to her drawer and pulled out a dildo. I remember thinking it was quite large (although I suspect I wouldn’t think that now), and it was certainly larger than the one I had. She assured me it had only been used on her cunt, but she wanted to use it on mine. That sounded like a great idea.

She inserted the end of it into her mouth and started to suck to get it nice and slippery, as I laid back on the bed, my head up on a pillow so I could see her work. She opened my legs up and nudged the end of the dildo against my vulva, just rubbing the end up and down between my cunt lips. She stopped and started gently pushing against my cunt and it started to slide in, with a little backwards motion occasionally to get it feeling comfortable. Once it slid all the way in, she left it and came up my body to kiss me. Then she went back to her drawer and plucked out a vibrator and put it next to my right hand.

“When you want to cum,” she explained, “use that on your clit. But be careful, because I want a long session, so when you do cum, you need to be able to carry on.” I nodded that I understood, and she started sliding the dildo in and out, slowly at first, but very rhythmically. It felt so good to have my cunt filled again, even if it was a toy, and I loved the look of concentration on Melissa’s face as she worked the dildo in and out. I felt my orgasm starting to build, and my body must have given her a signal that caused her to speed up and to slam the dildo in a little harder. It built so far and seemed to stall, so I turned on the vibrator and applied it to my clit. I was very quickly on the edge of exploding and my body was moving around, and I was moaning, and then I cried out and came. I rubbed my clit with the tip of the vibrator a few times to extend the orgasm a bit, and when my body has stopped shaking, I opened my eyes to tell her to stop.

She had a loving look on her face but told me she wasn’t stopping for a long time yet, so I had to knuckle down and get used to it. The problem is my clit gets very sensitive, so I knew it would hurt a little to apply the vibrator. Equally though, I knew she wanted me to do it again and again, and I really wanted to please my lover.

She hadn’t broken rhythm all through my orgasm and she carried on with slower and full strokes. It actually didn’t take long for pressure to start building up in my cunt again. I bit my lip and applied the tip of the vibrator to my clit, causing me to cry out in pain. Without breaking rhythm, she asked if I was OK, and I confirmed I was, demanding she fuck me harder.

It was the first time I had decided to be merciless on my own body, and my poor clit was the part of my body I’d decided deserved no mercy. So as Melissa sped up her strokes, I worked my clit with the vibrator and soon I was cumming for her again.

This clit torture was going on for over an hour, and I lost count at the number of times I came at six. But after an instruction to “make this a big one”, she pulled the dildo out, saying I’d had enough for one day. She lent down and gave my cunt a thorough clean with her tongue, as I lay there exhausted. I was keen to return the favour, so after a break of about half an hour of cuddling, we switched over and she received the same treatment from me, nice hard rhythmic dildoing for over an hour, with her using the vibrator on her clit to bring herself to numerous quite large and satisfying orgasms.

Once she had finished cumming, I licked her cunt clean and then we each licked half the dildo, which was covered in our combined juices, and we lay back on the bed kissing with very busy tongues. We were both very happy, and I was pleased my uni guy wasn’t expecting a fuck tonight.

She was my first lesbian lover, and one I returned to over and over whilst I was at university.

Tasting A Girl (Part One)

I fucked my uni guy a lot. We weren’t a couple – I think we’d have killed each other. But we did have lots of sex, and decent sex, if a little formulaic, but he certainly did everything he could to please me sexually. I was pretty happy.

But all the time, I was noticing other uni girls, and I found myself wanting to bury my head between their legs and theirs between mine.

I knew some bi girls (none of whom I fancied) and on a few drunken occasions, I spoke to them about what I was feeling. They thought the feelings were definitely real, and that I might be bi, and helpfully, they said there was only one way to find out.

How on earth could I pull one of these girls I lusted after? After all, I was slightly overweight and definitely oversexed with cock, but with no experience of cunt.

And then one night, I got very very drunk, and we played one of those truth games. I mostly escaped the perils of the dice, but near the end, I had to answer, and my question was “Who in this room do you most want to fuck?” I should have carefully weighed up the pros and cons, I should have been thoughtful. I wasn’t. I was drunk. I blurted out Melissa, realised what I’d done, and then quickly moved the game on. I thought I’d got away with it. I thought she hadn’t heard.

I was wrong. I didn’t find out until the following day when, with a slight hangover, I went for a walk into the local town, and who should I see but Melissa breezing around in a light floaty summer dress, her long blonde hair billowing in the breeze. She looked utterly gorgeous, and it reaffirmed again that I really wanted to fuck her.

As she saw me, her face lit up and she came over. She leant in for a hug and I thought she had brushed her hand across my ass. Nah, I imagined it. Anyway, we had some lunch and chatted about all sorts of stuff. We mentioned the party the previous day, but nothing was said about me wanting to fuck her.

After the lunch, we started the walk up the hill to the university, and as we got close, she sat down on a bench and I joined her. After the conversation going on a bit, she asked what I had planned for the rest of the afternoon. I had nothing planned and said so, asking if she had anything in mind.

She leant in towards me, ever so gently touched her lips against mine and I felt a hand cup my right tit. Fireworks were going off in my mind, and she broke her lips away and said she was sure we’d think of something. I leant in and started a full on tonguey kiss that ramped up the sexual energy in an instant.

What I didn’t realise was that Melissa was having bi thoughts herself, and I was one of the ones she had noticed and had thoughts about. When I blurted out my little revelation, Melissa had to decide whether she wanted to explore her bi side, or just ignore it and carry on with men exclusively. She wasn’t sure until she met me in town, and that kiss was so electric that she knew, actually we both knew, that it was the right choice.

And within the hour, my head was indeed buried between her legs and I was getting my first taste of another cunt, a taste and desire I’ve never lost.

When we got back to her room, we were somewhat awkward. We sat down on the bed not touching each other, almost checking that the other wanted to carry on. Melissa slipped her dress off her shoulders and sat in her bra with the top of her dress bunched around her waist. I took my top off over my head and discarded it on the floor. I made a sign that indicated she should turn round, and I unhooked her bra clasp. She held her bra on by pressing her arms against her sides, then she turned round and allowed me to take the bra off her tits in a proper reveal. They were magnificent, and I instinctively lowered my head towards them. I kissed each nipple, then chose the left one to encircle with my tongue and to suck on. In that instant, I knew why men are obsessed with tits. Turns out I’m obsessed with tits too.

I licked and sucked on each nipple in turn, and squeezed and kneaded at her tits, but realised I needed to not tire my tongue out, as I had plans for it lower down. So, I leant back, and Melissa eagerly repeated what I’d done. There is something amazing about a woman sucking your nipples that is just not the same for a man. I suppose it is a gentleness, a respect, a knowledge of exactly what it feels like. It is special, and we both felt it.

After Melissa tended to my nipples and squeezed my tits for about the same time, she broke off and we kissed again, proper passionate kisses with full tongues, enhanced by our bare tits squashing against each other.

We broke off and looked each other over, Melissa reaching down for the buckle on my trousers. I let her undo it, then got off the bed and slid my trousers off onto the floor. It was at this moment that I was thankful that I had not bothered washing my clothes, so a tiny sexy thong was the only panties I had clean that day. I was also pleased I’d been for a trim down there, so I looked perfectly manicured. I wasn’t bothered how I looked for my man, but for Melissa, I wanted to be as perfect as I could be.

She signalled that I should twirl, and I turned round, her running her hand on my large but firm ass as I rotated. As my face got back to the front, she stood up, put her arms round me and embraced me, our tits squashing together and our lips attaching to each other.

After a good minute, I felt her right hand slide round my waist over towards my cunt. Her left hand, which was on my back, changed position as if to brace me, and as she broke my kiss, I felt her fingers reach inside my panties and start stroking at my cunt lips. I didn’t back away. I just gazed at her beautiful happy face and look in her deep blue eyes, as I felt her fingers expertly working on first the outer folds and then starting to dip in and out.

Her demeanour changed from loving and gentle to focussed and a little harsher. I felt my cunt getting wetter and wetter as she was working my cunt with her fingers, thrusting them in and out on a rhythm, her thumb nudging my clit with every stroke. The hand in my back stopped me backing away and kept her fingers in contact with my increasingly wet cunt, and soon I began crying out. She had me near, and she was going to make me cum, and it wasn’t going to be long. Finally, I came, and as my legs started to give way, the arm round my waist changed from stopping me retreating to holding me up, and she moved her other hand away and brought it to my mouth to lick.

The determined look faded away and she was back to loving, and I was hooked.

My New Office Chair

I sat looking at this new arrival into our home office. It was a swivel chair on wheels, with a padded back in very similar fabric to our other office chairs, but with a plastic bucket seat, almost like a school chair, but adult-sized, a little deeper and with no hole in it.

I knew exactly what this was for, and I have to say I was ridiculously excited. This was a chair to wet myself on; the bucket seat would collect my piss and keep me sitting in it. I texted my husband (who ordered it), and he replied that he thought this would make me much more productive in the office. Yeah, right. It would make me much pissier and hornier, but I doubt more productive.

So, I put on a blouse and my work suit and settled down to start work, knowing full well that before the day is out, I would have wet myself in this new chair. I had a big bottle of drink to ensure my bladder was being steadily loaded during the morning, ready for him to return at about lunchtime.

When he did so, we were both already in character. I think he was pleased, not just with the chair, but he could tell from my movements that my bladder was fairly full, but I assumed I was going to be in for some serious desperation before I actually got to piss in the chair.

After a good amount of moving around working (each little movement putting a strain on my bladder), I settled down in my chair to do some computer work. My bladder was already full, but he kept topping up my glass to encourage me to top up my bladder.

At one point, I realised I had paused typing and was grabbing at my crotch. He had seen and asked me if I was OK. I said I was, but I did need a piss, but he insisted I finish this document first as it was urgent.

And so began the game. I finished something, drinking more liquid as I did it, asked to piss, and he said I needed to do something else first. And something else, and something else. I realised I could have just let go and pissed myself at any point, but where is the fun in that?

So, over the next half hour, I carried on drinking, crotch grabbing, squirming, and occasionally typing. At one point, he told me that going on and on about needing to piss was getting tiresome, and that I needed to do the job I was paid for without the interruptions. That little bit of role play really upped the game, and for the first time, I realised where this was going; he was setting this up delightfully.

After the fifth time I told him I desperately needed to piss, I was grabbing my crotch pretty much permanently. He told me to stop grabbing my crotch and carry on typing, and as I moved my hands away, I felt a small high pressure squirt. I clenched my muscles to try to stop it, but another squirt came and then the floodgates opened.

My face must have shown my predicament, as he realised and started asking if I was pissing. Was his nice professional secretary pissing herself in his office? He couldn’t believe how I had turned into this disgusting filthy bitch who couldn’t do her job without pissing herself. His words were turning me on enormously, but my bladder control had gone completely, and my piss was gushing out, seeping into the back of my skirt, and filling the plastic seat with a pool of my ever cooling piss.

There was no point in slowing the flow now, so I just let my piss seep out. He told me enough with the pissing obsession and to get typing again, so I started typing even as piss was still exiting my pisshole.

The ass area of my skirt was totally saturated and immersed in the piss, and I have to admit it felt rather thrilling.

A few minutes later, he asked if I’d finished pissing, if his lovely innocent professional secretary had finished pissing herself like a drunken tart, and I meekly said I had.

He said good and told me to stand up and bend over the desk. After I did so, I heard the camera taking pictures of my piss soaked skirt pulling tight over my ass.

Then he unzipped the two zips and lifted up the flap in my skirt to reveal my wet ass, moaning about his fingers being covered in piss. Then I felt his leather belt, doubled over to form a loop, impact across both my ass cheeks. It was clearly a hard strike, intensified by the wetness of my ass.

Another strike, then another, and the hard strikes were raining down at pace. After about a dozen, he stopped and zipped up my skirt, saying hopefully that would help me to think less about pissing and more about work. No chance, especially as the back of my skirt was still dripping and pulling taught over my burning ass, and that was before I sat back in the pool of piss and felt it flow back around my cheeks. It was soothing on my freshly tanned ass (and this is something I am not used to, as my ass usually has no soothing measures until well after the spanking session is completed).

As he told me what to do next, he put another glass of water in front of me as well. I sipped the water and tried to work, aware of the wetness around my ass, until about 20 minutes later, when he repeated the dozen spanks on my wet bare ass with his doubled up belt, and he repeated it every 20 minutes for a couple of hours, until I was fidgeting in my seat again. He saw me and told me I’d better not be about to piss again. I smiled sweetly at him, but my body movements must have given me away, as he knew my piss was flowing, topping up the puddle in the chair.

He couldn’t believe I was pissing myself again! He told me I had to learn pissing was not acceptable for a quality secretary, so once I had finished, he stripped my skirt and blouse off me, putting them into the piss on my chair, bent me over the desk, and began spanking me with his folded over belt again. I lost count of the number of strokes, but all the time, he was talking about me having to learn pissing was not acceptable. After he’d done, and my ass really was rather raw and painful, he told me to sit on top of my clothes back in the piss and stay there until my work was done, as he’d had enough of someone so disgusting.

I was there for about 30 minutes with the piss soothing my ass, sitting, and pushing my clothes into pool of piss. As he left the office, he was saying how he’d prefer his secretary to not piss herself every time she comes into the office. And yet I knew that was exactly what he had planned, and I loved it.

Forever Smooth (Part One)

So, what couldn’t I wait to be allowed to do again? Two things really, and not being able to do either had been a real downer for me during the lockdowns.

The first one was sex parties. I missed them. I missed the glory of watching other people have mind-blowing sex, I missed having an audience, I missed the visual feast, I missed the intoxicating sounds and smells, and I missed the exhilaration of performing. We have plans for a few sex parties, and they’ll set the house on fire when we can do them. Hopefully, that will be soon.

The second one was electrolysis. Having planned some treatments last autumn, I was stopped the day before the treatment plan was due to start, and 4 months later, I have only just got started. That has been a very frustrating time, but the delay turned out quite emboldening.

You see, me having electrolysis is not without precedent – about nineteen years ago, I helped a friend out who needed someone to do electrolysis on for her college qualification, by volunteering my armpits to have the hair removed. Now electrolysis is painful, but a few hours of pain has produced nineteen years of virtually hair free armpits, which I consider to be a very good deal. (Also, how painful is it really compared to 30 strokes on the ass with a tawse?) At the time, I got the electrolysis for a bargain price, but I haven’t been able to afford commercial electrolysis to have more done.

Well, one night during the first lockdown, we ended up discussing body hair, and it turns out all three of us have bits we’d like to have done. My husband had been shaving his armpits since well before lockdown started; he found it did wonders for smell and fancied making it permanent. Vicki, having seen and licked my armpits, wanted hers done too. And me? I hate my leg hair, I hate shaving leg hair, and I hate the way the slightest bit catches and interferes with stockings.

My husband of course rather fancied Vicki and I both being hair free below the neck, even though he did enjoy waxing our pubes. Neither Vicki nor I were sure whether we wanted to go that far, although I did like her idea of leaving pubes in a heart shape and clearing the rest.

My husband did point out how much hair was an impediment to cake sits, which is why he waxed us both to within an inch of our lives the day before. Trying to suck icing out of pubes is very annoying, and I hate getting pubes stuck between my teeth, but it would be fantastic to be cake sit ready at all times and therefore able to have an impromptu cake sit.

Now, I like my man to have a little fuzz on his chest, some hair to run my hands through, and his chest hair is so fine and soft, it is lovely to snuggle against.

But there is certain hair on his body that I wanted to deal with. He had a strip over each shoulder that made him look like he’s wearing a tabard, and his back hair wasn’t symmetrical, so I thought it would be good if this was all tidied up with some nice shaping towards the top of his body. Vicki isn’t keen on back hair at all and would like him to lose it completely. I wouldn’t mind that one bit. The other thing I’d like to deal with is his balls and round to his ass. Both Vicki and I would suck his balls and lick his ass a lot more if they were hair free. Obviously, there is a lot there to excite him.

Now I know these sound like easy decisions, but as my armpits showed, these are permanent changes. It is not like you can decide you have made a mistake and just let the hair grow back. Once they’ve been done, there is no changing your mind. No winter fuzz and summer shave, no deciding you want a pubey triangle after years of being hair free. Once you’ve had the electrolysis done, there is no going back, and therefore it is a big decision. We could have waxed our whole bodies as a test for whether we liked it, but none of us fancied the hassle of waxing everything – that is why we were considering electrolysis in the first place.

As we were still earning pretty near full money throughout the lockdown, and we were saving through the combination of Victoria moving in and a lack of commuting, we could afford to splash out a little. So last November, we booked a consultation with an electrologist with a very good reputation. All three of us talked through our desires and concerns and each had committed to a first step – leg clearance for me and armpits for Vicki and my husband, but as I said, we never actually got started.

But it turned out that the wait did us good. It allowed us to think each think it through without any particular pressure. The longer we went on, we were all frustrated and emboldened: I went all “take it all off. I’m not having this again. All of it!” (Actually, when I described it to our electrologist, she thought it was hilarious, but she suggested we start with the legs anyway). Vicki had decided on armpits, pubes, and ass (to be cake sit ready), and my husband decided on armpits, balls, ass, and shoulders. That’s a lot of electrolysis between the three of us, and we did get a bulk discount!

And with the enforced wait, the more each of us was thinking of having removed. Vicki had suggested my husband have his pubes cleared too, which would leave him with isolated patches of hair on his chest and possibly his back, as well as his legs. She found some pictures online of hair done this way, and I have to say, if it was done well, it would be nice. I was still thinking full clearance (apart from the pube heart) for me, particularly to be cake sit ready, and Vicki might yet do her legs, which would amount to a full clearance for her. We’ll each be able to check out the other’s bodies before making a decision to press on, and I can see smoothness only encouraging us more. I suspect my husband might be proved right, as I can see Vicki and I ending up with no hair at all below our hairlines, and that wouldn’t be a bad thing. I told you I’d come over all “take it all off!”

So, we all got sixty minute slots roughly every two weeks to get us started, and we are two sessions in. My legs and thighs have had the thickest hairs removed, and so I’m currently left with just the soft fine hairs. She’s also started on my ass, as I want to be cake sit ready for my birthday next month. My husband’s armpits and balls are mostly cleared, and his shoulders and ass have had the thickest hairs removed. Vicki’s armpits and ass are mostly cleared, and her pubes and bikini line are being cleared from the outside in.

Our electrologist is very meticulous, but also very quick, and if we all want everything cleared, we should need no more than 6 more sessions (followed by the occasional follow-ups over the coming year). So, by late summer, we should have removed all the hair we are going to, and we should be ready for sex parties, cake sits, nudist beach visits, naturist gatherings, swingers clubs or anything else we hope to get up to!

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