Losing My Wax Virginity

The appointment was for 03/23/2019 at 10 am. I know because I scheduled it. I arrived at 9:30 am, parking on the streets of downtown. I was hoping to relieve the butterfly pregnancy I had developed or was it a morning shit? While I was sitting there the wax technician texted me.

Hi, it’s Tammy from Wax Anonymous- it’s a fabricated name.

Nobody wants to admit that their pussy has been eatin by George Bush. Anyhow, she tells me the door code and the location of the office inside the building. If that wasn’t some fuck boy shit, I don’t know what is! I mean it’s not too much to expect pussy greetings at the door! The time came close to my appointment and I got out to pay the kiosk parking meter. The city has to be one of the biggest car pimps in the world, with conflicted terms and conditions! They expect residents to pay $3 per hour. Parking is not permitted between the hours of 6 am and 10 am. However, trucks can load between the hours of 6 am and 10 am. Personal vehicles can then park between the hours of 10 am to 8 pm. In addition, if you find yourself unable to find a spot, they take a section the size of your vehicle, and designate it as a no stopping zone. However, if you’re feeling risqué, they guarantee a tow on your dime. I would be convinced that a man is behind this, but it’s so detailed and complicated, let’s just call this a Bruce Jenner. However, this isn’t even the messed-up part. I get to the kiosk and it doesn’t take cash. What the hell! Do you want this two-by-six-inch president or nah?

So, after arguing a while I make my way to the shop. I finally meet the woman who agreed to wax my vagina. Pause. I’m sorry, I get emotional thinking about it. Anyhow, she tells me she only wants me to undress from the waist down. If this isn’t the idea of male foreplay at its finest. Before we get started however, I felt the accumulation of urine in my bladder and I decided I needed to pee. My previous boyfriend told me it was always better when it was wet. Upon return, I stripped down to my reproductive organs, and I take on the table as a missionary. To start she told me to fold out my right leg. During her explanation of the process, she told me something akin to slapping my upper thigh to sign that I was doing a good job. Here I thought the blow of a kiss and banging wrist cuffs was a sign of a good job, according to the ASL. So, she starts sautéing my inner thighs with wax. That’s right. I said it. For $29.99 I made sure my coochie had a lead role for Cornelia!

She applied the first strip and it was no biggie. However, the second and following lashes, had my thighs lit!  Tammy started smacking my thigh back-to-back, mind you this was only the right side. Next, she told me to butterfly my legs for more access to tackle the left side and the “in betweens”. At this point, the Emergency Alert System went off!

My… My name is E.C., E.C. not…not…Cornelia. Folk ‘roun he’h be mistaken us.

Did Masta listen? No. So, I resigned myself to John Legend’s “All of Me”, in my head.

Got my head spinning, no kidding, I
can’t pin you down

And I’m so dizzy, don’t know what hit me, but I’ll be alright

You’re my end and my beginning
Even when I lose I’m winning
‘Cause I give you all, all of me

I was feeling it too. The wax was nice and warm. It was way better than a V-steamer. It was the first time someone had skeeted lines between my legs. I even thought about what it may look like at this point.

I released my breath on the final strip or at least I thought it was.

 Do you need a break, or shall we continue?

What the h*** do you mean do I need a break? I thought. Instead I asked, “cat-cow”?

She replied, “No. Happy Baby”.

Now, this is when your man likes to perform a cervix arrest and your FUPA gets a lift. I complied. She had gone further than my gynecologist. How? Who else do you know can leave a lasting mark on your vagina? We finally get to the cool down portion of the session, literally! Tammy took the time to apply some pussy balm- I don’t know what it is. I’m just calling it like I felt it! In addition, to some baby powder to provide moisture, and eliminate stickiness. She leaves the room and I rise from the Rotor. Have you ever tried to outrun punishment by being still? I had suctioned my back so hard to that table it transformed into wax paper. Upon first contact with the ground my knees buckled. When the second foot landed…

I knew she had waxed the shit out of me! Per standard, she gave me a card of care and a list of other waxable areas should I return. By the time I got home, I had to use the restroom. I finally looked down. After 5 minutes of booking an appointment online, 15 minutes of registration, and 30 minutes of hot n’ sticky waxing, I had a newborn vagina. I could tell there was still some left over cum, from the sticking of my lady parts. But it was nothing a shower couldn’t take care, including the microscopic blood stains. Going into my calendar, I stamped the time of 10:30 a.m. that my cherry had popped.

Photo based off true story of a waxing scene