Getting Her Nails Done Ch. 01

Mike Fitzgerald surveyed the traffic and tried to estimate what time he would arrive at work. It was a game he played to fill time on his morning commute that could vary from fifty minutes to an hour and a half. The reason for the long drive was the decision he and his wife, Lynsay, had made to live in a small town well past the suburbs of the city where he worked. In the beginning, it had been her idea as she had grown up in a small-town environment and had little interest in the chaos of the city or the blandness of suburbia. So, they had decided to trade off his commute for a better standard of living, and so far, they had been happy with the result.

Their town's population was 13,500 and it had a distinct downtown area with an old courthouse, a square with numerous shops and several restaurants. The city leaders were quite progressive in building a culture and there always seemed to be a function taking place. In addition, there were numerous well-maintained parks that were extensively used.

Mike was twenty-eight years old and worked in finance. They had moved to the area a year ago when he accepted his current job, and at the time, he thought he would occasionally be able to work from home. It had taken longer than he had expected for it to occur, but recently, he had been able operate at least one day every two weeks without going in.

Lynsay was two years younger than her husband and worked as a third-grade teacher in the local school system. She loved her job and got along well with her co-workers and the administration. Even better, she was truly enjoying her current class and felt she was really connecting with them.

Typically, Mike would leave the house just as his wife was stirring and return to find her preparing dinner. She understood the sacrifice her husband was making and did everything she could to make sure he dealt with minimal stress once he crossed the threshold. Since she had at least two hours once school was out, she would handle the family errands, workout to keep herself looking good, and spend time preparing a nice meal. Fortunately, Mike was pleased with her efforts and always made sure he offered sincere compliments.

"What's for dinner?" he asked as he looped an arm around his wife's waist and kissed her neck.

"Lamb chops...mmmmm," she replied, as her body shuddered from his touch.

Mike had worked himself up on the drive home and was hoping that he could entice his wife into some serious lovemaking. His plan was to dote on her to get her into a good frame of mind, see that she had several glasses of wine and then get her to snuggle with him on the sofa. If things went well, he would strip her and perhaps feast on her slit before taking her to bed. Fortunately, he didn't really think his plan would meet with much resistance as his wife enjoyed sex just as much as he did. Normally, she would defer to his desires and let him set the direction, and in all their time together the only thing she had denied him was her rear.

Lynsay Fitzgerald was 5'6" tall and weighed 125 pounds. She had gently-wavy shoulder length light brown hair, dark brown eyes, a medium complexion and pouty lips. On top, she had firm C-cup breasts, and as a result of her work out schedule, a tight behind and flat tummy. Despite her husband's pleas to shave, she kept a neatly trimmed covering of brown hair down below. She loved to dress fashionably, and although they were just starting out, she was able to create a nice ensemble on her limited budget. She had done a fantastic job putting stylish touches on their home, and when she wasn't spending time with Mike, or grading papers, she would work on the house. Recently, she had been focused on the yard, and would do the research on plants and shrubs while he did the planting.

"That was so good! You are so amazing!" the young husband declared when dinner was over.

"I know what you're after," his wife replied with an impish smile, accurately guessing his motives.

"What?" he replied with mock hurt.

"Just put your plate in the sink and pour us some wine," Lynsay laughed.

Mike was waiting on the couch when his wife appeared fifteen minutes later and he handed her the glass as she snuggled in close. Through the opening in her shirt, he could see the beginning of the swell of her breasts, and he had to fight the urge to thrust his hand inside. He truly loved his wife's breasts. They were perfectly proportioned, firm and crowned with small nipples, but the best part was how responsive she became when he played with them.

"What?" she asked with a grin when she saw his devilish stare.

"Just thinking," he replied.

"Of course," she answered sarcastically and pretending indifference, she started inspecting her nails, then added, "My manicurist moved to the city."

"The Vietnamese lady?" Mike asked.

"Korean, and yes, her," she acknowledged.

"Lynsay, I'm so sorry. What are you going to do?" he replied with his own sarcasm.

"There's a local lady I found, but she's not Asian," she answered, and then turned and kissed him passionately.

"I guess the conversation is over," the young husband panted when they finally broke.

"Try to keep up, honey," Lynsay giggled and found his lips once more.

Mike did exactly as he had fantasized on the drive home. Piece by piece, he got his wife naked and after spending some quality time on her breasts, he dove between her legs and feasted on her delicate and now very wet mound. When he had taken her to the peak of arousal, he pulled her the short distance to their bedroom where he took her lovingly and delighted in her passionate sighs.

Lynsay drove slowly down the street looking for the address. Unlike her previous manicurist, that worked out of a strip shopping center, she had been informed by the woman that she had a small studio attached to her house. If she would have known that before, she very well might have looked elsewhere, but here she was on the quiet, although slightly rundown street. Finally, she spotted it and was pleased to see the premises were neatly kept. Parking in the driveway as instructed, she took a few short steps to the outside door that was the entrance.

"Are you Lynsay?" a mid-thirties woman asked when it opened.

She was quite thin with strawberry blonde hair and the raspy voice of a smoker. In addition, she was dressed in jeans and a low-cut blouse that showed the tops of a pair of ample bosoms. In fact, they were disproportionate to her frame which made her suspect they were enhanced.

"Yes, and you're Connie?" she replied.

"Yes, that's me. Come on in," the manicurist said with a disarming smile.

The young wife stepped into the room and with a quick look around got her bearings. The space was small, likely no more than 200 sf., with most of the it filled by a manicure chair, a facial chair and a rolling cart with the equipment. In addition, there was a waist high refrigerator, with a microwave on top, and a full-height bookcase that was stuffed with nick-knacks. It was a legitimate set-up and coupled with Connie's bubbly demeanor, she felt her anxiousness drift away. She was directed into the chair and while the manicurist prepared, she was inundated with non-stop questions.

"No, we aren't from the area. We moved here a little over a year ago?" Lynsay replied to one of her probes.

"What brought you here?" the woman asked in her rough voice as she took the young wife's hand.

Lynsay explained the circumstances, and how, despite her husband's commute, they still felt they had made the right decision. She answered questions about her marriage and family and along the way learned that Connie was on her third marriage and had two teenage children that lived elsewhere. The woman explained that her husband was a carpenter and he had built the annex onto their house.

"We're all done," she suddenly declared.

"Ohhh...okay," Lynsay replied, and then added, "It went by so fast!"

"It's cause we were having fun visiting," Connie responded, joining in the laugh, and then continued with, "I do other things too like pedicures, facials, and waxing. I'm busy today, but next time you come if you want to do some more honey just let me know."

Minutes later, she was driving away pleased with the woman. She could definitely see herself returning and perhaps she would even take her up on her offer concerning other services.

It turned out that's exactly what happened because three weeks later Lynsay was on the phone with her scheduling an appointment that this time included a pedicure. As soon as she arrived, they picked up where they left off, discussing each other's lives, and when that was mostly done, Connie started shamelessly describing all the gossip in the community. In reality, the young wife knew none of the people she was referring too, but it was still entertaining and like the previous visit, they were finished before she knew it.

"The woman I go to for my nails, her husband is a carpenter," Lynsay told her husband as they stood outside inspecting several places that needed work.

"Is he any good?" Mike asked, and when he realized the silliness of the question, he continued before his wife could respond by asking, "Do you know if he works for someone else or for himself?"

"I don't, but I can ask her," she offered.

"Why not?" he said with a shrug.

An hour later, Lynsay extended her hand to her husband as he sat on the sofa watching TV, "Here. He works for himself and this is his number."

"What's his name?" he asked.

"Tucker, I think," she replied as she headed towards the bedroom.

The following Wednesday, Mike called the man and after a brief introduction they agreed that he would come by the couple's house on Saturday morning to see what was needed. He proved to be prompt and for the next half hour, the two men inspected the damaged areas and then moved into the shade of the garage to discuss specifics. Mike wasn't completely sold on the man as he seemed to be quite slow and interacted almost entirely with a flat expression. It didn't help that he had what would best be described as an extended mullet that fell to the middle of his shoulder blades. Also, there was a certain strangeness to his dress, as both his pants and shirt were neatly ironed, the tail was tucked in and his work boots looked to have been recently shined. In total, the medium-build fortyish man seemed almost like a cartoon character. However, despite his concerns, Mike found himself agreeing to the work at what he thought was a very good price.

"That is one odd guy," he told Lynsay when he entered the house.

"Did you give him the work?" she asked, a bit nervous about how a rejection my impact Connie.

"Yes, let's see. The price was good," he explained.

The job was completed in a day. On the following Tuesday, when Mike returned from the office, Lynsay took him out to see and they were both amazed by the quality of the work.

"So, you're happy?" she asked.

"Uh...yeah," he responded enthusiastically and then added, "I think we found a carpenter savant!"

His words made them both laugh and the young wife actually found herself a bit eager to announce her husband's delight to her manicurist.

"Tucker did a great job. My husband is very happy," she announced on her next visit which made the woman beam.

Over the course of four months, Lynsay visited the woman six times, receiving, a mani-pedi on each occasion. Their conversation was always free flowing, although Lynsay was significantly less forthcoming than the older woman, who had shared many personal things including, her breast job, the disaster of her first marriage and her sexless second. During this period, when the subject of Connie had come up with teachers at school, there typically was some chuckling and eye rolling, although no one ever made a truly negative remark.

"I'm not surprised. He's got a knack for working with wood," she replied, while she handled the file.

"I'm sure we'll have more to do," Lynsay offered.

Rather than respond to her words, the woman launched into more gossip and quickly all thoughts of Tucker ended. It filled most of their time, and on this occasion, the young wife had a faint knowledge of the people involved, so her interest was piqued. Connie was just finishing up when she looked directly at Lynsay and stunned her with her words.

"Do you shave down there?" she asked bluntly.

"Connie!" the young wife responded in shock.

"It's almost bikini season and they look much better when everything is smooth. Especially, on a body like yours," the older woman stated, completely ignoring her discomfort.

"I'm fine, really..." she replied, just wanting the conversation to end.

"What do you do? Shave?" she pressed, not getting the message.

"No, I trim," the young wife answered, deciding the woman wasn't going to give up.

"Lynsay, no one does that anymore. Everyone's slick! I got some time now if you want to..." she started before Lynsay interrupted.

"No, Connie...not today," she said, clearly uncomfortable.

With the session over, she made ready to leave and was forced to field several more attempts on the waxing before she closed the door. As she drove away, she realized that Connie had no filter. However, she knew the woman well enough to understand that she meant no harm and was merely oblivious to the awkward situation she had created.

"Hmmm...you should have," her husband replied, while fighting back a smile, when she told him about the exchange later that day.

She knew she shouldn't have been surprised by his remark as he had been pestering her to shave for years. Still, she felt he could have shown a little more sensitivity.

"I should have known," she answered in an annoyed voice.

"Why not? From what I've heard it's very common...almost mainstream," her husband offered.

"It's not common in this house," she fired back.

"Yes, that's true," Mike answered with intentional sarcasm.

It wasn't like him at all to belittle her and Lynsay was quite surprised. At first, the words felt like a jab to her female psyche, but as she considered them further, she became even more offended. She had always gone out of her way to be supportive of her husband, even when she didn't necessarily agree with him, so now she felt betrayed. She used all her willpower to hold in her anger and went about the day refusing to let her husband sense her annoyance. Later, when he reached for her in bed, she allowed him to climb on top of her and perfunctorily performed her duty, although she did so with no passion.

"What's wrong?" Mike asked after he had ejaculated.

The fact that he hadn't noticed her state until he was finished incensed her even more, but Lynsay remained stoic.

"Nothing. Just not in the mood I guess," she answered.

Mike knew there was something more but decided it was best to wait for her to tell him. She always had before, and besides, he was exhausted and ready to go to sleep.

Over the next few days, Lynsay's irritation disappeared. It just wasn't a big enough issue to dwell on and it was soon forced to the background by the demands of daily life. It was only when she was sitting in Connie's chair, several weeks later, that her mind returned to her husband's pointed comments. She expected the subject would be broached again and thought it likely that Mike would bring it up later, too. Their session was almost finished, and Lynsay thought she would get through unscathed, when the older woman did indeed try the up sell.

"You think any more about waxing? I think it would be good for you and the timings right," Connie probed.

"No, thanks," she responded, and after a short pause added, "Just not my thing."

"Well, I understand, but let me tell you it's the standard now. Every woman I know is slick. I do almost every one that comes in here and it doesn't matter if they are young or old or fat or skinny either. It's just the thing. And like I told you last time, on your body it would make you look even better in your bikini," she said, providing more details than the young wife thought appropriate.

At first, Lynsay didn't respond, but she knew the woman was sincere even if she was course, so she finally answered, "Connie, I just wouldn't feel comfortable...being...you know...exposed like that."

The older woman started to laugh, but quickly caught herself, and then replied, "Girl, trust me. I've seen plenty and it ain't a big deal."

"Not for you maybe! What about me?" she fired back.

It had been a quick exchange and when it was over, they stared at each other for several seconds before they both burst out laughing. The tension that had built in the room was instantly gone, and their giggles continued for almost half a minute.

"Okay, I get it," Connie said.

"Now I feel like a child," Lynsay responded with another short laugh.

"Honey, you're definitely not a child, but I don't want to make you feel bad. If it's not your thing, that's fine...it's cool," she said.

Strangely, her words came across as something of a challenge to the Lynsay, and joining the words were those of her husband. It seemed both of them looked at her as over-conservative and perhaps even a bit repressed. It made her wonder if she was truly out of touch and overreacting.

"How long does it take?" she heard her voice ask.

"Twenty minutes to an hour depending on how thick you are," Connie answered instantly.

"I don't know..." the young wife whined.

"Come over here," the older woman directed, and surprisingly, Lynsay found herself taking her hand and moving to the designated spot.

Lynsay was wearing a fluffy dress which was quickly pulled up to her waist and she felt her thong being tugged downward. When it reached her knees, she flinched for a moment and reached for the garment but before she could find it, the woman had it off her legs.

"Connie!" she protested.

"Oh, honey. You don't have much hair at all. You look like a little girl. This won't take long at all," she replied, ignoring the plea.

"Dear Lord..." the young wife sighed.

Seconds later, she felt the woman's hands on her pelvis and she could hear the snipping sound of scissors. Very few men and no woman had been this close to her sex and it created all kinds of strange feelings. She wondered if she should say something, but elected to stay quiet and focused her gaze on the ceiling tiles over her head.

"Your trimming makes things easy. Just a few places to get right and then we can go," Connie explained.

"Okay," Lynsay forced out.

It was all progressing rapidly and the she thought it might not be so bad when suddenly she felt the older woman lift her leg.

"Not much hair on your butt, so even easier," she laughed.

Lynsay could feel her entire body blush as she realized she just had her anus inspected. She thought about stopping the entire thing and leaving, but it felt like that would cause more embarrassment than just seeing it through. Now with closed eyes, she continued to contemplate what to do while listening to Connie move about. However, it wasn't long before she sensed the woman was back at her side.

"Glad I left this on," she said, and Lynsay felt the molten wax being spread over her vaginal area.

"Does it hurt?" the young wife asked, suddenly thinking about specifics.

"Some, but not too bad," she answered.

"Shit!" Lynsay cried out a minute later when a sudden ripping sound filled the room.

It was a very real stinging sensation as the follicles were torn form her skin, and much more painful than she had anticipated. The result was her breathing quickened and her body started to move in fear of the next action.

"That was a big one and there's one more and then it won't be bad," Connie explained.

Before she could speak, the next patch was pulled free and once again she cried out in pain. Lynsay forced her body to remain still, hoping that Connie's description was accurate. She felt more of the hot substance being spread around her labia and into her crack but, as promised, the subsequent removals were far less painful. When she felt lotion being rubbed into her abused skin, she thought they were almost done and it wasn't long before Connie confirmed it.