This week’s guest blogger – @alexwritessmut – is going to talk to you about shaving his sub’s cunt. And putting it in that stark and simple way is, for some reason, a huge turn-on for me. Just the phrase ‘shaving my sub’s cunt’, where ‘cunt’ refers not just to a hole, but the whole – the mound between your legs as well as the parts inside you. The view someone gets when you spread your thighs – everything you’d hide day-to-day in knickers, suddenly exposed and explored. Open and vulnerable. Sometimes the simplicity of action, explained matter-of-factly, is all it takes to turn me on. And that’s before we even get to the detail… Enjoy…
Shaving my sub’s cunt
“Are you comfortable?”
I’m not sure when I first had the idea of shaving my sub’s cunt, or really where it came from. It was almost certainly an “Ooh. That sounds like a laugh, I should bring that up some time!” idea that became more and more alluring the more I thought about it. It’s not that I have a problem with body hair. Far from it. The electric thrill of pushing her against a wall, slipping my hand past the waistband of her jeans and having the tips of my fingers graze the coarse hair hidden beneath takes my breath away Every. Single. Time. As for knowing that I could push a bit further, spreading my fingers, splitting her lips and slipping myself into the hot wetness waiting for me…even typing it out is making my cock strain against the fabric of my jeans. I’ve also got “come across her hairy armpit” high up on my to-do list, because fuck me that would look just beautiful. So yes. Body hair very much not an issue.
That being said, there is a lot of fun to be had when someone is shaved. More skin to kiss, for a start, and kissing bare skin is one of nature’s all time treats. I also enjoy shaving myself from time to time, as it makes the area around my cock that much more sensitive to licking and kissing, as well as having the added benefit of making my cock look that little bit bigger, and allowing an unrestricted view as I slide into her as deeply as I can.
I’m used to shaving, to a point. I’ve shaved my face for years (if you have a beard you tend to be accused of computer science or gentrification) and I’ve shaved my junk when I’ve been bored, but I’ve only ever shaved as both the shave-er and the shave-ee, if you will. When you shave yourself, you’re getting feedback from both ends. You know if you’re nicking, you know if you’re dragging and you know if you’re applying too much pressure. When you’re shaving someone else, you don’t have that. The feedback has an inbuilt delay and if you’re about to fuck up, by the time you’ve heard about it, it’s already too late.
I brought it up with her, she was equally nervous and excited, and so we set a date.
Come the day, I had everything laid out. Hot water. Cold water. Flannels. The razor. Shaving cream. A brush. Scissors. It felt like prepping for surgery,
I had her lie back with her legs spread. Completely naked, completely exposed. First things first: scissors to trim things down. Even that made her nervous. The cold metal sound of “snip-snip” so close to her cunt, and just out of sight. All BDSM requires deep trust in your partner, but I’m constantly astounded by the ways that that trust can be tested.
“Are you okay?”
After the scissors, I draped a flannel I’d soaked in warm water between her legs, to help soften the skin and open the pores. Whether that works or not, I don’t know – I’m not a barber. I use it when I shave my face and, honestly, I was winging it by this point. Next: shaving cream. Applied with a brush because I enjoy the theatrical. The contrast between the hot flannel and the cold cream made her gasp and shiver.
I started, using a single-bladed safety razor in preference to some Gillette Hydra monstrosity. Very small movements. Careful. Precise. My entire world shrank down to the area between her legs, one square inch at a time. Shave. Rinse razor. Shave. Ask if she’s okay. Shave. Rinse. Repeat.
It was an intimacy that I’ve never felt before. The closest I’d ever been to someone’s bare cunt for this much time without touching, licking or fucking it. It was more inspection than sex. Dominating – after all, she was naked and spread before me – but pampering at the same time. Careful, close, intimate attention. Having to force myself to be patient. Fighting the urge to put down the razor and bury my face in her.
I started from the outside and worked my way to the centre, one hand using the razor, the other applying gentle pressure to stretch the skin.
The more I worked, the more I started to get nervous. Would my hands start shaking? Have I nicked anywhere? Oh god above what if I snag a lip?
As I got closer to her lips, I had to use my fingers more, gently positioning her labia to one side then the other. By this point, her legs were trembling. Looking back, it was likely a combination of nerves, arousal, and good old-fashioned muscle fatigue.
The whole thing took about ten minutes. I finished with a pore-closing ice-cold flannel, which produced exactly the sort of reaction you’d expect.
Taking the flannel away, I admired my handiwork. I was grinning like an idiot.
“Look at you. God. I did that.”
Licking her clit as a quick promise of things to come, I handed her the towel and we shared a hug that was a combination of excitement, relief and ecstasy.
Shaving her was an incredibly intense experience, intimate to the point of almost being scary, and I can’t wait to do it again.
Afterwards, it still makes me smile now, knowing that she’s sitting at work as I type this, my handiwork hidden just below her jeans.