Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 3

I used to be a good girl. I lived for my studies, behaved well towards friends of both genders and to strangers, never put a foot wrong. Okay, I had lost my virginity, but it was uninspiring, and left me cold, and I discouraged the boy from contacting me again.

I think it was largely due to my pubic hair. Thick and dark, it covered almost my entire pubic region, and I struggled to cover it all when I wore a swimsuit. It seemed to retain moisture like nothing else, and felt cold and dank to me, and totally unsexy. If I ever started to get aroused, the liquid seeping from my vagina would quickly soak into my bush, and make me feel disgusting, putting a quick dampener (excuse the pun) on any feelings I had. I am not sure if it smelt bad afterwards too, but the thought certainly played on my mind and made me feel worse.

That all changed at a 17th birthday sleepover for my best friend and classmate Kirsty, a slimline blonde with a chest I am sure I was not the only one to envy. We had a lot of fun, played games, indulged in some technically illegal drinks supplied by her parents… and late on, the conversation inevitably turned to matters of a lewd nature.

I was surprised to learn that most of them very much enjoyed sex, of various types, with multiple partners, but I let it slide. Just thinking about it made me feel the beginnings of that familiar discomfort between my legs.

As dawn approached, we suddenly realized that Kirsty had not opened her presents, so we gathered round excitedly while she ogled the pile of packages assembled for the occasion. Then she began to tear at them with zeal. Most of them were predictable – films on Bluray, clothes, some tickets to a popular group playing at a nearby arena, and so on – but one surprised us all. It was a large box, maybe shoebox sized, and it had swooshes and swirls of pink and white all over, making the writing actually irritatingly difficult to read. “What is it?” I asked in confusion.

Kirsty, already somewhat flushed from the occasion, the warmth and the drink, turned almost scarlet. “It’s… a pubic shaver. I insisted my mum and dad get it for me. It costs, like, five hundred pounds, but I’ve had bad results with other shavers, and this one has incredible reviews online. You can’t be too careful, y’know, down there.” She was not wrong, I thought, imagining the itching, chafing and even cuts I had experienced with bad underarm shaves, but in my extra-sensitive crotch area. I added my voice to the chorus of agreement.

Well, nothing would do but that Kirsty be made to try out her new gift immediately, and the five of us soon pressured her until she caved. She took out the device, all smooth plasticky curves and shiny chrome, fitted the batteries, and flipped the switch. We all giggled excitedly at the loud, yet somehow gentle, buzz that emerged from it. Sarah took it from her, took her hand, and led her to the bathroom.

We couldn’t resist listening outside the locked door as the machine buzzed away, changing in pitch every now and then, eliciting stifled giggles from us. Kirsty’s breathing became heavier, interspersed with gasps and the odd moan, and finally one long groan that sounded anything but pained. It seemed pretty clear what had just happened, and we whispered excitedly to each other, enjoying the titillation of this illicit show.

Soon after that, the buzzing stopped, and the two emerged. Kirsty was flushed and breathing heavily, but had a huge grin on her face. We closed the door, and began the process of convincing her to show the results. It didn’t take long, she was rather proud of her new, bald pussy. She undid the cord of her dressing gown and it pooled on the floor… and it was amazing, like no hair had ever been seen around that crotch area. From blonde eyelashes down, she was all smooth, pale, firm young skin. Her vaginal lips protruded, slightly puffy but not at all uncomfortable-looking, from the innocent teen slit. It was luscious, and despite never having thought of myself as either lesbian or bisexual, it was somewhat enticing to me.

“Did it hurt?” asked Jessie, the youngest of us.”

“No,” Kirsty shook her blonde head. “Quite the opposite, if anything.” She had a wicked grin on her face now.

“Did you… Did you come? It sounded like you were having fun.”

Kirsty hesitated, then nodded slightly. “It’s the vibration. And the gentle touch. Sarah seemed to know exactly how to handle it.”

“Oh, it’s no big deal. Once I had a quick look at the instructions, it was totally intuitive. I bet anyone could do a good job with this thing. No wonder it’s so expensive!”

Then the conversation stopped. For a moment, it seemed like nobody quite knew what to say next. Or rather, everyone knew what they wanted to say. I am sure I was not the only one building up the courage to ask if I could touch it. I was just about to raise my voice, though, when there was a noise from the front door.

Everyone scrambled. Kirsty threw on her dressing gown as we all settled on the duvets strewn around the lounge, and she had just managed to tie the cord when the door opened and her dad’s head popped through. “Dad! Knock!” Kirsty cried, turning and stamping her foot in irritation.

“And a good morning to you too, my dear. Are your friends ready to go? Their parents will be here to pick them up in a few minutes.”

I glanced at the clock, and sure enough, the agreed conclusion time for the party was almost here. We all groaned our disappointment, but Kirsty’s father was brooking no argument. He stayed long enough to be sure that everyone was moving to pack up and then, just before leaving, he said to me, “Oh, Rachel, your dad texted me to say his flight is running late. He won’t be here for another hour-and-a-half.”

I nodded. It had always seemed like a potentially risky idea coming straight from the airport to collect me, but I was in no mood to complain, as it meant I could spend a bit longer with my best friend.