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“Ah Sweet Pussy….”

Two professional women: both married with kids and both juggling clients, reports, potty training, packed lunches, chores, dogs, cats, errands, husbands and …”what was that you said? SEX?”
That three-letter word that once was so frequent, so liberating, so yummy has been sidelined in a sea of life, work and snot.
It is time.
Time to put sex back on a pedestal by injecting some extra spice into our relationships.

“Ah Sweet Pussy….”

Part 1: The Brazilian

There was a time I kept myself beautifully coiffed..down there.  That changed eight years ago when I visited a salon in Dubai with one of my best friends and the ensuing experience etched itself in my mind for life.

A full bodied lady spread my legs, exclaimed “Ah….sweet pussy, I will make your pussy look so pretty”, grabbed a stainless steel kitchen knife (no I do not joke), dipped it in wax and proceeded to spread the hot wax across my nether regions…. yes, with the knife.  I stopped breathing, coming up for air only after the knife plunged back into the wax and she repeated the experience on my backside.  I came out of it in shock.  To add insult to injury, one week later I had boils spread across my bits and a course of antibiotics to stave off a staph infection.   It was an attractive time in my life and shaving has been the coiffing choice du jour since.

So fast forward to present day, I trudge into a local salon to battle my Brazilian demons all in the name of Mission: Do It.  It’s a nail bar. Not luxurious, but functional.  Wooden spatulas, not a knife in site. I can breathe. My hair follicles have been spoiled with shaving, so it hurt like hell.  I couldn’t muster up the energy for all off, so I opted for the postage stamp look but hey, I did it.

Part 2: The Reveal

The reveal had to wait four days for the burning angry rash to calm down.  Again, not attractive.  Good job I did Part 1 of the Mission at the start of the week.

I could have planned the reveal a little better: end of the work day, in the kitchen trying to get dinner ready, our son running around with his tractors and I was trying to appease the Duke with some contentious news of the day so I pulled my underpants down and flashed him.  I obviously thought (incorrectly) that my flashing him would take his mind off my controversial news and he would sweep me off my feet in a sexual frenzy.  Nope.  The Duke stopped talking, raised his eyebrows and then carried on as before.  I shrugged, zipped up my jeans and my postage stamp went back on snooze mode.  Later, when the time came for me to make my move, it wouldn’t have mattered if I had a postage stamp or a 70’s porn star full bodied-do. As we had missed last’s week mission, the Duke was just happy to get it.

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