"Are you okay?" he asked. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to."
In response, she smiled and leaned back against the glass. She spread her legs. "Please, Richard. Shave my pussy."
His cock was rock-hard in his sweatpants. "Okay." He licked his lips and picked up the mustache scissors.
He started in left field. The first curls fell at the snip of the scissors. Working from left to right, he trimmed a neat row across the top of her triangle. She watched his hands, and his face. He glanced up and met her eyes. He gave her a grin and his eyes twinkled. "Are you sure nobody will notice?"
"Don't stop," she said firmly.
"I won't stop," he promised. For a moment the only sounds were the snip, snip, of the scissors, and their breathing.
He kept working his way down. Gently he took one lip between his thumb and forefinger. His thumb felt the wet heat. He moved the brush around in the mug, working up a lather. "Spread 'em again, sweetie," he spoke with affection. Willingly she complied.
He held his breath for a moment, then let it out. "I think you'll like this." He painted the warm lather onto her close-cropped pussy. Louisa moaned. He saw her nipples harden. He kept swishing the brush, laying thick suds on her private parts. "Oh, god, that feels so good," she breathed. "Don't stop."
He leaned in to steal a kiss. "Much more to come, baby," he assured her. He started in with the antique safety razor. He had put a fresh blade in it that morning. Carefully he stroked a downward path, again starting at the top left. He felt ready to weep, he wanted to fuck her so badly, but he held steady. Bit by bit the pale skin emerged. Louisa was breathing hard. He glanced up, registered the flush in her face. "Soon, soon," he told her. She licked her lips, watching his movements in hot fascination. "Uh huh."
She stared at the handle and he guessed her thought. With a knowing look he gently poked her with it. She groaned.
"Feel good?" he asked softly.
"Nice," she gritted. "Oh, you tease me so bad."
"You like it." He swished the razor in the hot water. "Now I need you to hold still."
Gently, carefully, he eased the razor over the dainty cleft. She was unmistakably swollen with desire. He concentrated on making the moment last. The effort was exceedingly difficult. He wanted her now.
At last he drained the sink and ran hot water onto a cloth, wiping away the traces of lather. "Mmmmm," moaned his woman.
"Look," his voice was hoarse. He held the hand mirror between her legs. The reflection showed the place that had long missed daylight. It was like peering into a seashell, the kind that gets pinker the deeper you look.
They looked in the mirror at her exposed crevice. "Oh, god," her voice cracked. "You've made me new again!" Louisa gasped and for a moment teetered on the edge of tears.
Richard embraced her. Her legs were strong around his hips. He could not think of words to say. How could it be that this moment was even more intense than when he had given her his virginity? Yet it was so. His heart turned over in his chest.
"Louisa..."
The sharp pinnacle of his sex could wait no more. Later, he would have no memory of taking off his pants. Wildly he stabbed her. The sight of his cock penetrating her naked pussy drove him into a frenzy. Her cries made a lusty duet with his grunts.
He didn't know if he was making love to her or fucking her blind. It was both.
* * *
Louisa's dress for the dinner party was black and strappy. Three strands rose to each shoulder, criss-crossed in back, and fanned into evenly spaced rays along the saddle shape in the back. Her breasts rode high and her waist nipped in; she looked a decade younger than she really was.
Mostly what gave her the youthful appearance was not the dress, but the sparkle in her eye and the flush in her cheek. No make-up can emulate the face of a woman in love.
Richard feasted on the sight of his woman. She was lovely and lit from within. Unable and not wanting to resist, he lifted her onto a low bookcase and stood between her legs.
She held out her palms to prevent his kiss. "Don't. I just finished my lipstick." She was smiling at him though, fluid and warm in his arms.
He lifted her dress. "Well, you're not wearing any lipstick under here, I hope."
"Wicked." But her eyelids drooped in sultry desire as his hand explored her undergarments.
"Mmmmmm...." he growled in his throat and lowered his face to rub at her thighs.
Louisa gasped. His clean-shaven jaw was dangerously near her clean-shaven mound, and the thought of that silken skin contact made her chest heave with anticipation. She put her hands on his shoulders.
"Stop. We'll be late."
He gave her an impish grin and decided to tease her. Beneath her dress, his hands firmed their grip on her hips. "So what?" he asked softly. "How bad could it be?"
She leaned forward as if to kiss him but teased him as well, skimming past his cheek to whisper in his ear: "Later."
"Okay," he sighed, and lifted her down. "But I'm going to hold you to your promise."
"See that you do," she sassed, and they put on their coats.
* * *
Evan and Agnes were dressed up, too, but Louisa clearly stole the show. She looked less like a woman having dinner with her beau's parents — more like a date for a New Year's Eve party.
Evan lingered as he kissed her cheek hello. The smile on his wife's face was faint. "You're looking well, Louisa," she trembled.
"So are you. It's nice to see you again," replied the guest.
Parents and son greeted one another casual familiarity as the party arrayed itself in the living room. Agnes got everyone a drink, and Evan led off with a remark about the martial arts.
"How was it you decided to study?" he asked.
Louisa's mouth twitched as she remembered the creep at the conference. Richard got her out of it. "Oh, you know," he said easily, "the couple that plays together, stays together."
Evan didn't quite spew his drink. He'd figured something was going on but was quite surprised at his son's casual frankness.
Agnes said, "I'll just go check on the pie." With the look of a dazed woman, she moved unsteadily toward the safety of the kitchen.
"That went well," said Louisa cheerfully. "Did Richard also tell you we're planning to open a porn shop?"
"Really!" Evan laughed. "I'm glad you two are getting along so well."
The ice broke a bit, but the rest of the evening was never completely relaxed. Neither of Richard's parents seemed able to stop staring at Louisa, though for different reasons. They were seeing her in a new way. Evan had never seen her wear the proverbial little black dress; and he looked hungrier for her than he did for the lamb chops. Agnes was dumbstruck. She simply could not believe that a woman who had been her colleague in the PTA was now living in sin with her son.
Richard was by turns amused by his mother's reaction and irritated by the way his father looked at his girlfriend. He'd figured how things would play out with the former, but the latter felt like an attack from an unexpected quarter. At one point he looked in dad's eyes. The two men sized each other up. Richard was younger, but Evan was far advanced in the martial arts. It would be an interesting matchup, some time in class.
Agnes served dessert right on the heels of dinner. She'd gotten over the shock of Ms. Newberry's cradle-robbing and was now starting to perceive the woman as cheeky. What a nerve — to show up dressed like a prostitute, eat her cooking and flaunt her wares at her husband! Mrs. West whipped up a pot of decaf without bothering to ask anyone what they wanted.
The party had long since exhausted the subjects of the weather and current news events. The subject of work was a bore; Louisa was loathe to discuss recent events, Richard summed up his current work in one sentence, and Agnes did not work outside the home. Only Evan could drone on about his office, and even he was glazing over at the events of non-events. Finally the four discussed politics — even that ground was a safer place to tread than Richard and Louisa's relationship.
Richard washed down his mom's apple pie, a long-time favorite, with the slightly bitter coffee he remembered. He looked at the plate. In it was clearly written a mother's gesture of love for her son. She thinks I'm still a kid.
He took a few steps toward the washroom and beckoned to his date. "Louisa, could I see you for a second?"
"Sure." In a moment she was by his side.
Quietly he asked her if she would mind waiting in the car. "I'd like just a few minutes to discuss something with my parents."
"Of course," she agreed. In an instant she had on her coat and was graciously thanking her hosts. At their exclamations of surprise, Richard gave the same explanation. They readily acquiesced.
Louisa waited in the car for what seemed like a long time, though it couldn't have been more than twenty minutes. She took the time as a gift; a moment of waiting is always a signal to observe, both within and without. Breathe, Louisa.
Wind fanned the trees in the just-past-twilight. The cool breezes of autumn were starting to blow. The leaves had done their job, collecting the sunshine and feeding the trees. Now they would shrivel, drop, and die.
The turning season made Louisa reflect on the seasons of her own life — hers and Richard's. They had been dating for nearly nine months now. A pregnancy, she thought. A lifetime. What new life he had given her! Life and death, somehow bound up in a golden ring.
Her reverie was interrupted by the young man himself opening the car door. In the cabin light his face looked peculiar, looked oddly determined.
"What's up?"
"They'll come around," he replied, but he sounded almost as if he were talking to himself.
"Give them time," she soothed.
"Time, my ass. Louisa" — he framed her face with his hands — "I love you. I want you to marry me. Will you be my wife?"
Send to your friend
