Waxing Turns Me On

‘When are we having sex again?’

‘Next week  ..?’

‘No, when exactly? I want to be waxed. And I will want … specific things.’

‘Specific things! Tell me.’

 

I love getting waxed. I don’t think it hurts that much, and I like that little bit of pain, I enjoy it. And it makes my lips tender and slightly swollen; neither of which are bad things. But getting waxed is synonymous with having sex for me the two are linked even if I’m not about to have sex. Getting waxed turns me on. It used to be afterwards but now even the feel of the warm wax on my skin starts it.

But when I am waxing for someone or an occasion – then there are things I hope for. Sometimes if I’m really lucky I can tell the person what it is and ask them to do it. Ask them to treat it.

Rarely is enough time spent down there, sure most tongues are quick enough to go in and stay, but I want time elsewhere. I want time spent licking and kissing and sucking everywhere that has had the hair ripped out of it. All that beautiful, inviting, tender skin; so close to where you can taste the best of me that you can smell it. The mound above my clit, the sides down close to where the thighs join but not quite the inner lips. It’s so tender there, all over that area and when it’s covered in hair I’m not so keen for anyone to spend too much time there as it makes me worry about hairs in their mouth and I can’t relax.

But when I am hairless, I can finally ask for it. I can finally feel the cunt aching tease of someone’s mouth and tongue all over it. Not going for the main event, waiting it out, teasing me. Licking, kissing, rubbing the perfect soft skin and making me wetter and more desperate.

Not only that, I want it to be controlled and measured. I want him to do it so that he can see his control over me. I don’t want him to lose himself in the task. I want him to know that he is torturing me and to get off on that. To tell me not to make a noise, to tell be to behave as I writhe underneath him. I want him to lick the inside of the lips just enough for him to get the taste of me, enough to let me think that the torture is over, only to stop and kiss me on the mouth so I can taste me own need.

This is what I want. I want him to kiss it like he would kiss my mouth, just barely catching the edge of my cunt. Going a little further in every time. Slipping his tongue into me, then back out and kissing the edges like he is sucking juice out of me. Licking from the bottom to the top, pausing to watch the pain on my face, before doing it again. Squeezing my nipples as he goes back to just kissing the mound again. I will be whimpering and bucking and close to tears.

I want to be told to be quiet and be given fingers to lick that will gently part my aching lips, and then dip into my soaking cunt. This will feel great but again, it’s torture because all I want is for my cunt to be eaten.

And then it starts, a controlled devouring of my sex. Until I come on his tongue and beg to be pulled to my kneed and fucked.

 

That, is what getting waxed makes me think of.

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