Pubically Schick

I have to be honest about pubic hair, I have a lot of it. It has plagued me since puberty and proved to be difficult to control. I’m a prude of sorts, with forever ingrown hairs on my bikini line, and a battler to keep the area under management. I’m also a little old school: pre brazillians and landing strips, too prudish to display the problem to a beautician and too aghast to think that men would be after ‘little girl bottoms’. I have always aimed for the perfect trimmed triangle, battled for adequate and assumed it didn’t affect anyone but myself. Then I met Mr G.

Unlike any man I have ever met in the past, Mr G likes to keep his balls clean shaven. On occassion he’s even shaved his penis. He proudly told me he did it for me. I confusedly ask him why he thinks I’d find it anything but weird. And unnecessary. And dangerous. He stopped doing it quite so often. He’s a man who loves me to bits and whose love is returned. He can be a little blokey and laughs at my stuffiness. He’s often short of compliments but makes me laugh to the point I feel warm and content all over. He’s a wonderful Dad to my daughter and he’s down right darned sexy. Nothing quite prepared me, however, for the comment “Darling, let’s be honest, we need to do something about your bush.”

For I moment I worried he was a paedophile, then dismissed it. I explained I was a little surprised. I advised I would never have a full botty wax or trim beyond the triangle. I secretly surmised that the least area trimmed was more than sufficient for my ingrowing problem. I attacked his silliness in his own penile arena and quite frankly I put an end to the conversation. But a seed had been sewn. Oh how my curiosity sprouted when I saw the advertisement for the new Schick Quattro razor and bikini trimmer at supermarket prices. Oh, how I wondered if I could be pubically schick.

It’s about this time I need to cut a long story short. I bought the device. I know many others out there have one, as it took three attempts at scouring the shelves on three different occasions to find the very last one left. I snatched it up and looked the other way as it went through the checkout. I took it home to try it. It was fabulous. Not only was it fabulous, it was fun. It is a battery operated, shower friendly, sheering device that took my bush down to a tidy and clipped triangle quite devoid of savagery. There was no foreplay for me that night. The effects were instantaneous.

So proudly I regarded my new look privates. I even set out for a trip to the swimming pool, excited that there would be no little mound of concealed but abundant pubic hairs on display. I even dropped my guard from the area and relaxed into public swimwear appearance. I smiled as I engaged in cheerful phatic communion with passers by. It was then that made the mistake of looking down. Quite unexpected in my schickness  and quite unnerving in my public situation, a glint caught my eye. Hundreds of glittering, ginger, fairy light, sharpened pube ends were poking through the lycra.