And I didn't even need to buy her dinner first...

Okay a quick post before I write up the saga that is my trip to Jamaica. I have a five day vacation/wedding (not my wedding, my older sister’s) down in the Caribbean, I figured why not spend it on the beach in a skimpy bikini. Yep, I bought a little number from Victoria Secrets summer sale collection, and the price actually reflected the amount of material they used ($10). Anyway, I was in dyer need of a “moderate coverage” bottom since I had always previously bought swim suit bottoms with “giant ass coverage”. Seriously, the things would wrap around to the other side if not checked. I guess it can be blamed to our “oh my God that is vulgar” upbringing in Nebraska. On my last trip to Coney Island, I got a great tan on my back. Unfortunately when I was checking it out (yes I was looking at my bare backside….grow up), I realized that giant suit bottom tan lines emphasize a giant white ass! If I ever wanted to parade my bottom around with Britney, I would need to get some seriously sexier tan lines (or lipo). Hence the sexy new string bikini!

Since the bottoms were on par with a pair of children’s underwear, I needed to clean house on the hair. Okay, yeah I should warn you readers that the rest of the post will be filled with TMI. I know, why not get a Brazilian wax! I asked around to the running girls (all who treat themselves to things like waxes, manicures, and real haircuts) and they definitively recommended the wax even if just to say I’ve done it once. I found a quiet Asian salon and made an appointment. I wanted to take aspirin or something before, but then I worried about thinned blood that would not clot and then I could be bleeding all over the place and freak out the waxer, etc. Okay yeah you can tell I was a bit worried about ripping hair off my genitals.

I think I made every rookie mistake. When she told me to undress in the room, I took off my pants. She came in and shook her head and said, “no underwear!”. Oh okay. I stood there nude from the waist down in fear of sitting anywhere and spreading my butt germs. Luckily, I think she realized my uncertainty and pulled out some butcher paper and patted it for me sit down on. Then I had to assume the positions. Yep, some of the positions had me cracking up on the inside. Lift this leg, hold your hand here, grab and pull here. Seriously there was a time where I had one leg held in the air, the other braced in a 45 degree angle stirrup, one hand holding the vertical leg, the other pulling my ass back. Ah ha ha, sorry, I’m cracking up just thinking about it right now.

Surprisingly, it did not hurt. Some times it stung, but the anticipation fear really put me on edge. I was able to figure out her method and then predict when she would rip off the cloth. Smooth three times, pause, rip. It was that brief second or two pause that I would tense up knowing a sting would be coming. Speaking of her method, I could never have a career in waxing. When she was down in the “special area”, she would be rubbing really hard to get the cloth to adhere to the wax. I’m thinking, wow she is jerking me off (well no I don’t have a penis, but you get the idea). She would then stick her nose a inch or two from my junk to inspect the job and pick out the next section of hair. Seriously, I could feel her breath on my….again you get the picture.

One big fear of mine was farting! Yes, farting…in her face. When you lift your legs and pump them like a chimney stoker thing (as what she was doing with all the positions), you invariably suck air into your asshole. Now when her face is inches from my junk, I had to use all my concentration to keep that baby puckered to prevent death by breaking wind. I eventually got my reprieve when getting dressed (the best/most satisfying fart ever…ever!).

When it was done, she gave me a mirror to inspect her work. I didn’t know what to do, okay look at the genitals, give her a thumbs up? I actually could not look her in the face because with all the rubbing and ripping and up close examination, I felt all guilty and that we were breaking up or something. She actually did comment on my hair though. She said “you not bad, not hair everywhere, I have people some time with hair down to there (as she gestures to her mid inner thigh), they mostly black people though, I got to cancel all appointments afterwards”. Anyway, it worked and I was razor free for the vacation. Hurrah! Now I wonder if it will grow back even or patchy like some male facial hair. And no, I will not be posting any pictures sickos!