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squirted the foam over my mons and pussy lips. As I grabbed the razor, I had no idea what Dave would say when he saw my hairless pussy. I doubtedthat he’d suspect that I had a secret lover, but he’d question me. Why shave? Where did I get the idea from? What prompted me? The hairs would take weeks to grow back, but I’d got it in my mind that this had to be done. My secret admirer had asked me to shave. If Barry was my man and he saw my hairless vulva, he’d be bound to mention it in his next email.
    Repeatedly dragging the razor over the sensitive flesh of my vulva, I shaved off my blonde fleece. Wiping the foam and curls away from my fleshy lips, my sex crack, I finally gazed at my reflection in the mirror and gasped. I’d stripped years away along with the curls, and I couldn’t image what Dave would say. Free from their veil of blonde hair, my outer lips appeared bigger, fuller and more pronounced. The pink petals of my inner lips protruded invitingly from my sex valley, I felt my clitoris swell as my arousal heightened. Stroking the smooth flesh of my outer lips, I breathed heavily, deeply. I needed to come, I thought as my juices of desire seeped from my yearning vagina. But I had to put my plan into action first.
    Tugging my panties up my long legs, I moved the crotch to the side so that one hairless outer lip bulged out like a balloon. Making sure that the elastic of the leg hole was embedded deep within my sex crack, I lowered my skirt and went back to the garden. I was ready, I thought, taking a deep breath. I was ready to expose my hairless pussy lip to my neighbour, and trap him. Squatting by the flower border with my thighs apart, my pussy lip blatantly displayed, I grabbed the fork and carried on with the weeding.
    I’d shaved and plucked up the courage to expose my hairless pussy lip, but there were no sounds emanating from Barry’s kitchen and no rustlingbehind the fence. Had I wasted my time? Had he gone out? I was about to give up when I heard a noise behind the fence. Someone was there, I was sure as I parted my knees further and exposed the smooth flesh of my bulging pussy lip. Was he watching me? What was he thinking? Was his cock stiff? More to the point, would he email me?
    The notion of someone looking up my skirt at my swollen pussy lip was sending my arousal rocketing. I’d enjoyed the thrill of flashing my panties when I’d been a college girl. I’d loved sitting at the bus stop with my thighs parted, watching the old men gazing at me as they passed by. My panties had always been soaked with my pussy milk by the time I’d got home and I’d sneak down to the end of the garden and masturbate behind the hedge. My orgasms heightened by the thought of the old men ogling my panties, I’d lie on the grass masturbating for what seemed like hours. They had been heady days, I mused. But this was completely different. This was sexually stimulating, exciting, and dangerous.
    My clitoris was solid and in dire need of my caressing fingertip, but I couldn’t go into the house and masturbate until I was sure that Barry had taken a good look at me. The longer he gazed at my bulging pussy lip, the more his arousal would heighten and the more likely he’d be to mention it in his next email. Was he wanking in the bushes? My panties were soaked with my juices of desire, and I knew that I couldn’t wait much longer for the relief of orgasm. But I daren’t masturbate knowing that he was watching me. He’d think me a dirty slut if I brought myself off in the garden.
    Hearing the bushes rustling, I again wondered whether Barry was wanking. The thought of his spunk shooting out of his purple knob exciting me, Ihad no control over my actions and slipped my hand between my thighs and massaged the swollen lip of my hairless pussy. I couldn’t help myself as I moved my panties aside and caressed the hot flesh of my sex-wet inner lips. Massaging the