A Close Shave Ch. 1bychristo©
Ten minutes after I lost my virginity I made a very important life-decision-I was going to devote my life to getting laid. I was going to take the steps needed to insure that when I wanted sex, I could get it. I wasn't going to end up like the losers I knew in high school who pined after girls and jerked off to Playboy. I was gonna be the guy who READS Playboy.
I'm not just bragging when I say that I'm a very attractive man. I've worked my ass off to get this way. I have some natural gifts-I'm six-three, blond, blue eyes, and I'm good-looking enough that I did some modeling in college. I'm not muscle-bound I'm quite fit. I work out and swim a lot and I have a black belt in tae kwon do, which comes in handy from time to time. I look good enough in a bathing suit that when I'm lying by the pool sunning myself just about every woman between the ages of 12 to 80 checks me out.
I busted my ass in school and made the grades and connections you need to move up in the world. I have a great job that pays enough to let me live in the kind of style that women expect from a stud. When a woman agrees to go out with me she always finds me in a custom-made suit, driving a late-model Mercedes, with reservations at the best restaurants in town.
It all comes with a price, of course, but women have the coin that spends with me.
You're thinking, "What an arrogant prick." And you're right. I am arrogant. Because women love it.
What really gets me hot, what really adds that extra little bit of spice to life, is when I take another man's women to my bed. Especially when the woman is married. I love that moment when I penetrate a woman who got up in front of her family and her God and swore she would be faithful. That's when I go into overdrive, giving her the fuck of a lifetime, a fuck she'll never forget. I make her fall in love with me, forget the jackass she promised to be true blue to, blah, blah, blah.
Thing is, the second a woman falls for me is the moment I lose interest. The phone calls, the whining, the demands...fuck that. I remember this one line Steve Martin said on Saturday Night Life, talking about the qualities he wants in a wife, "To be there when I need her...and to be out of town, when I don't." Amen to that.
I live in a chic townhouse complex, lots of upwardly mobile type like me pretending to be neighborly. I've made the rounds a bit, scoring here, scoring there. On one particular summer day, a real scorcher, I was lounging beside the pool, checking out the action. There were a group of women lounging in a loose circle, chatting away. The women were older than me, mostly in their late thirties and older forties, a group of bored housewives passing the time.
One woman in the group caught me eye, as she had from the moment I first saw her. Her name was Mrs. Clay, or, as she insisted the day I met her, Rita. Very, very attractive woman. She was around 40, 15 years my senior, about five-three, petite, very pretty. She had short black hair and striking pale blue eyes. Small breasts, but firm, and very nice legs. She and her husband lived a few units over from me, I saw them from time to time, getting the mail, coming home from work.
I knew she lusted for me, her body language screamed it during those brief encounters. Her husband was a total shit. I might be an arrogant prick, but he was mean, stupid, and nasty. I barely knew them and he talked to her like she was his dog. I was looking forward to hanging horns on him. The second I saw her I knew I had to have her. I took my time, there was no rush, I had plenty of action lined up and I could be patient and savor that moment when I would enjoy this sweet little treat.
That moment was now, I decided. She was wearing a white one-piece suit, much too conservative for her still-ripe body. I stared at her through my sunglasses, not caring if she noticed. She did, looking over at me from time to time, checking me out, and seeing that I was checking her out. Her neck flushed red. Yes, this wasn't going to be a problem at all.
I got up and jumped in the pool and swam some laps. I swam until I saw that the crowd around Rita had thinned out a bit. I got out of the pool, my body glistening in the sun, and walked past Rita and her friends. They looked at me, and I knew they liked what they saw, very much.
I lay down on a chaise lounge just a few spaces away from them. I pretended to nap, letting the sun warm my toned body. I was right in Rita's line of sight, I knew she wouldn't be able to help herself.
Two teenage girls walked by in bikinis, both of them on my list of future conquests. I ignored them, the best way to fan the flames in their young bodies. The older women watched them sashay past and I heard one of them say. "Wish I could still look like that in a bikini."
Rita said, "So do I."
I didn't look over, but I said. "You would look better than those two stringbeans in a bikini."
The women fell stone silent. I lay still, totally relaxed. Rita said, "Oh, I couldn't wear something that skimpy."
"Don't tell me you're shy."
"Maybe a bit," she giggled. "And I'm not 18, I can't wear a suit like that anymore."
I shrugged. "What a waste." I pretended to sleep.
Ten minutes later their little bull session broke up. I didn't move. Behind my dark shades I watched Rita pretend to drop her book, then her suntan lotion, looking for an excuse to linger behind.
This was going to be easy.
She said, "Thank you for pretending that I looked as good as those girls." Fishing for compliments.
I gave her a nibble. "You don't look as good as those girls. You look better." I pulled my sunglasses off. "Much better."
She blushed. "I have a few bikinis, I just thought I was too old to wear them."
"Your friends are too old, but you aren't. A beautiful woman is beautiful, her age doesn't matter."
She was really red now. "It's very nice of you to say that."
I put my shades back on and leaned back. "Just telling you the truth." I let her think the conversation was over, let her twist a little in the wind. Then I said, "What would be very nice would be seeing you here tomorrow wearing a bikini."
She smiled. "I didn't even unpack them this year. And, anyway, to wear a bikini you have to, you know, get waxed and all that, and I haven't done that for the last few years."
"You don't have to wax it, just shave it. You don't shave?"
She laughed. "I can't believe what we're talking about."
I waved a hand. "It's no big deal."
"I've never shaved myself like that. I wouldn't know how."
I stood up. "Then come with me. I'll show you."
She looked like I'd just told her to come to Mars. "What did you say?"
You have to be like that, you have to be direct. If you want to get laid you have to say so. "I want to fuck you," is the best line in my repertoire. You can spend six weeks dancing around the subject or you can say, "I'm going to fuck you, right now," and bring the drama to a conclusion.
I held out my hand. "We'll go to my house. I'll shave you." She couldn't think of what to say, she was in shock. I didn't want her to think. "Rita, come with me."
I took the limp hand she offered and slipped my arm around her waist. I took her bag and carried it for her, making sure my hands never lost contact with her. A simple touch on the cheek, or the arm, can break down resistance faster than all the sweet talk in the world. The second I pulled her close and our hips touched the die was cast. I was going to be inside this woman within the hour. Nothing short of a hydrogen bomb could stop that now.
It was only a minute or so walk to my house. We had to be careful, it wouldn't do to have the neighbors see her go in with me, so we went around back and slipped in through the patio door. Once inside I took her up to the master bathroom, which has a huge bathtub. I started running hot water like I did this sort of thing every day.
"I'll get a fresh razor and some cream," I said.
When I came back she was sitting on the edge of the tub. "I don't think we should be doing this. It's wrong, it's crazy."
"Why?" I asked. "I did this all the time for a girl I dated in college."
"We aren't dating. I'm married."
"I'm just going to shave you. And then you can show off in your bikini."
"Nothing else will happen?"
"Of course not."
She believed me because she wanted to believe me. Or, rather, she couldn't believe that her fantasy was coming true. This sort of thing doesn't happen in real life, sexy young hunks asking married women if he can shave her pussy. She probably believed that as she took her suit off and stood naked before me. My instincts were spot on-she was delicious. The brown nipples that tipped her small breasts were already hard. She had nice, slim hips and her smooth legs were toned and sexy as hell. Her thatch was a bit thick, she really should have been trimming it. But she probably didn't care, since her shit husband was the only one who saw it. I would address the issue right now.
"In the tub with you," I said. "Get nice and wet."
She obeyed like a robot. Maybe now she was starting to realize that the situation was out of hand, that she was so compromised now that letting me fuck her wouldn't be such a betrayal after all. She sat on a small seat in the tub and I sat on the rail next to her. I lifted her up by her hips until her vulva was floating just above water.
"Is the water too hot?" I asked.
"No, it feels wonderful."
"Good." I sprayed a thick ball of foam into my hand and, without preamble, began lathering up her snatch. She arched her back and groaned as I thoroughly coated her with the rich cream.
"That feels good, that feels so good," she whimpered.
"I know, I'm sorry, this won't take long."
When she was ready I brought out the razor and began scraping away her pubic hair. It was hard going in places, but I worked slowly, using my fingers to spread her lips to get every hair around the delicate folds. Every time I touched her pussy she writhed and gasped and moaned.
"Be still!" I hissed.
"I can't!" she groaned.
I diddled her clit and she shook all over. "Rita, stop that." I said sternly.
"Then don't touch me there!"
I inserted my middle finger deep inside her. "Where?" I asked, innocent now.
"Uh, uh!" she gasped as I curled my finger and rubbed her G-spot. "Inside me! Don't touch me there! I can't bear it!"
I withdrew my finger and started playing with her clitoris again. Her hips gyrated again, she grabbed my hand and pushed it away. I let her, since we were already well past the point of no return.
"Do you want a bikini stripe? A little bit of hair right around here?" I asked, massaging right above her clit.
"What do you think?" she gasped.
"No. I think it would be better for you to be totally clean." I went back to work. It took me another 10 minutes of careful work to shave her into perfect bare plumpness. She had a beautiful pussy, pink, soft folds, delicious. As I poured warm water over her, washing away the foam, I began running my fingers between those folds, gently, then with more force.
"Mrs. Clay," I said.
"Please, call me Rita," she said, still trying desperately to keep this innocent. Hilarious.
"Rita. I don't think I can just shave you."
"No?" her voice wavered.
"No. I've always thought you were sexy, I've wanted you since the day I saw you, but I didn't know I want you this much." I began massaging her thighs fingering her with more force.
"Then we should stop," she said.
I answered as I knew she wanted me to. "I don't want to stop. I want to fuck you. I want to eat this gorgeous pussy and then I want to fuck you."
"No," she said.
"Yes," I said. I helped her out of the tub and I wrapped a big terrycloth towel around her. "I want to fuck you right now."
"No," she said, leaning back against me.
I cupped her breasts in my hands and kissed her neck, then her earlobe. "I'm going to fuck you," I whispered. "Right now. Right here."
"No," she said, spreading her legs so my fingers could stroke her pussy, She was soaking wet. I stepped back and pulled my suit off. My cock was erect and I pressed it against her ass. She threw her head back and cried, "Oh, God."
"I'm going to fuck you. Now."
Her warm hands closed around my cock and she began stroking it. "I can't believe this, I want you so much, hurry!" I scooped her up and carried her to my bed. I gently lay her down and then I kissed my way down her body, sucking her nipples, then licking her belly button, and then finally I reached her pussy. I tongued her deeply, burrowing my face into silky smooth pussy, and then I drew her clit into my mouth and began sucking her. She froze in place, her body quivering, and I inserted a finger inside her and she began twisting her hips and crying out in ecstasy as she came, I kept sucking her until she stopped shuddering, and then I sat up and mounted her. I was enormously erect and I speared myself inside her and her breath caught.
"You're big, you're so BIG," she cried.
I began moving my hips, slowly at first, but picking up the pace. This was not the time for a long, slow lovemaking session. Now she needed me to fuck her, to need her so bad that I would go insane with lust and pound at her. It would make her feel hot and sexy if I couldn't control myself in bed with her. So I didn't. I fucked her like a beast, slamming my cock in and out, crushing her breasts with my chest.
"Oh, fuck me, fuck me!" she screamed, not caring anymore about her adultery.
I kissed her ear and moaned, "Fuck, your bald pussy is so hot, and tight...I'm going to come soon."
"Yes," she cried. "Come in me, please, I want to feel you let it go inside me."
"Uh, UHHH!" I groaned with ecstasy. She was good, very good, very hot and passionate and I let myself go and I came within a half-dozen strokes.
"Yes, I'm coming!" I bellowed and I ejaculated inside her. My semen gushed out in a flood and her eyes widened as my seed filled her up. I kept fucking her through my orgasm and my plunging cock stirred up a thick white froth in her pussy. At last, I was done.
"I can't...I can't believe we did this," she said. "That I did this. I've never cheated on my husband before."
This pleased me greatly, I always love to be the first person a woman cheats with. "I've never done this with someone who was married before," I lied.
"It was wrong,"
"I know. But I wanted you so much, I had to touch you. I had to take that chance."
"It was so good, so GOOD. I've never had a man make me feel as good as you."
I kissed her. "I can make you feel even better, Rita. I can do things to you that you can't imagine. If you want to. If I can trust you to keep this quiet."
She kissed me fiercely in reply. Excellent, I thought. She got her cigarettes out of her bag and she lay there, smoking, letting the excitement wind down. I watched her wrap her sexy lips around her cigarette and I felt my cock twitch, knowing that soon those lips would be around my cock. But not today. I let her smoke in peace, and when she stubbed out her cigarette on a tray by my bed I said, "You should go back home, before your husband get home.
"You're right," she said. That pleased me, she was sensible, and she didn't cry and moan and beg to let me stay. Yes, she might be something very special...
We both got dressed and I sent her on her way. "When can we get together again?" she asked.
"Soon, baby, soon," I promised. And I meant it, too. She was a good fuck, a great one even, and I wasn't going to ditch her, no, not yet. I had plans for Rita Clay. But they would have to keep for the moment.