Master Waxer was drinking her own wine before I arrived today.
She must've had a rough day full of pussies and assholes because MW was already
slurring when I walked in the door. Then we had a glass (or two, but who's
counting) in prep for my vag-anus hair to be ripped out. We joked as usual as I
laid back with my legs cocked at odd angles for her to get the wax on.
The air conditioner was going full blast, blowing right on
my twat, and I swear my labia clapped to warm itself up. MW apologized for the
freezing cold air, but she had been having hot flashes all day so she was
trying to cool off. Well, that explained why she was hitting the wine pretty
hard before I got there. Fanning herself with one hand, MW smeared some wax on
me with the other. Holymotherfuckingjesuschrist the wax was hot hot hot. I
yelped in surprise as hot wax dripped on my lady bits. MW was horrified and
apologized profusely, starting to fan my twat with her hands. And then, the
motherfucking wax stick fell from her fingertips in slow motion and landed in
the thick of things on my veej. Of course the air was blowing so hard the wax
was congealing faster than normal. When MW grabbed the stick and pulled it took
a nice little hair ball with it. At this point I started laughing. I laughed so
hard I forgot to maintain position and closed my legs...pretty much gluing my
twat closed with wax. My vagina had to be oiled to dissolve the stickiness. If
my appointment was any indication of how the rest of MW's day had gone, I
couldn't blame her one bit for getting shit-faced. Before we got back to the business
of removing the hair from my business I made MW pour me another glass of wine
so I could cope with this awkwardly traumatic experience.
I finally left with my hair all ripped out, my lips unglued
and a nice little buzz going. Dickhead was pissy when I walked in the door
because I was later getting home than normal from an appointment. So I
showcased my hard-earned wax job, asked him if it looked good and when he said
'yeah' and tried to fondle me I told him he needed to remember what it looked
like because he wasn't getting any with that motherfucking attitude.
Now he's sulking on the couch, and I'm sitting over here
drinking more wine and throwing out zero fucks that he's pouting like a fucking
child.
