The smile on her face made me feel apprehensive."Goddesses don't have any hair on their pussies. All the statues I've looked at are bare, clean, smoot... as a baby's bottom."That explained the smirk on her face. My Mistress was looking forward to shaving my pussy. And she was determined to make a big event out of it. She stopped short of inviting friends and neighbours to watch, but my Master kept his eyes glued to my pussy while my Mistress went through an elaborate process of first trimming my. I had explained it all to her, how her reproductive cycle worked, the best protection methods to use. I should have insisted she went on birth control, I just didn’t want to believe that she was ready for sex. I know, she was fourteen. They developed so fast. It made me feel so old. I wasn’t old. I was still beautiful. I still had a fit body.I still had desires.Flashes of James, my fifteen-year-old son, dashed through my mind, memories of seeing him shirtless, his body toned, athletic, rippling. More

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