He'd ask what I wanted for my birthday - I said "Don't bother". I spent one anniversary at an evening work meeting, barely having seen him all day. Another anniversary was spent with the husband of a good friend. (taking our kids to a school function) Christmas was all about the kids, and Valentine's Day? Well......I spent that day either mourning our lost love, feeling sorry for myself, being pissed about feeling sorry for myself, or just pissed at him for sucking the joy out of my life.
So last February I felt the need to celebrate. It had been almost a month since we rekindled our romance. We were still in the unsure, where is this going? stage of our new happiness. Hell, I wasn't sure if it was happiness or just a fluke. Od's not known for his follow-through when he begins anything new. I was sort of holding my breath waiting for the backslide in effort, the disappointment, and the failure. We'd talked very little about why we let our relationship fail for so long, and why we shut each other out. (not that we didn't already know) We had a fleeting conversation once that was too raw and left him feeling guilty and on the verge of shutting down and left me on the verge of tears remembering years worth of neglect. It was time to focus on us now, not us then.
Valentine's day provided the opportunity to just go for it. I began scheming. I planned to ship the kids to their grandparents for the night so we could have the house to ourselves. A nice dinner out, a movie, and then he could unwrap his present - me. I bought a new outfit that included a red bra/panty set and a sweater that had a silky ribbon belt that tied in a bow, so he could actually unwrap me before he got to the other goodies!
It was a fun night, but what I was super excited about was what he had promised to do for me for Valentine's Day. Something he'd never done. A thing that I had never experienced with him. I was giddy all night talking about it, asking him "Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure. I told you I would, and I will." he said calmly and convincingly.
"I don't want you to regret it." I gave him every out that I could manage. Really, I was skeptical that he'd go through with it and I was fishing for reassurance. He'd never agreed to such a drastic thing so easily before. I'd wondered about it for years, looking at certain other men and fantasizing.........
After we arrived back home and it seemed like I was going to get this thing I had wanted for years, and my curiosity was so close to being satisfied...............I got nervous. I began second guessing myself. What if I regretted it? Didn't like it? How would that make him feel?
He was the one that took control of the situation. "Let me get changed. I don't want to get anything on my clothes."
"No. Don't. I want to see you do it in that shirt. I like it on you. Roll the sleeves up." I have a serious fetish for men's forearms, wrists, and hands. Especially in rolled up shirtsleeves. It helps that Od rocks some pretty awesome manfur. You know that area where the hair brushes down into a line on the side of the forearm? Like a happy trail? Oh my god. And happy trails are another thing altogether. What can I say? We all have our triggers.
Anyway, I hung out in the hallway like a predatory lioness stalking my prey as he paced from the bathroom to the bedroom getting ready. The anticipaton was building. The widening grin on my face was unstoppable.
"Okay. I'm ready." he called out to me.
I stepped into the room, locking eyes with him and we smiled at each other. I reached up to grab the back of his hair, pulling him down for a deep kiss. He started laughing and pulled away.
"You're really happy about this aren't you?"
"Mm hm." I confessed, still grinning.
"Do you want to go first?" he asked.
"Can I?" I didn't expect the offer. He nodded his head while reaching behind me.
"You'll need these." Od handed me the supplies. I was comfortable using them on myself. But him? I could hurt him or do it the wrong way.
"You're sure?" I asked for the umpteenth time. I was maybe stalling a little bit.
He breathed a sigh at me, not wanting to be impatient. "Yes" he stressed.
With that one word he stepped forward, reached down to grab my ass and lifted me onto the bathroom vanity. I opened my legs to allow him access. With him nestled in I took the first of my supplies and turned it on. It jumped to life with a familiar buzz. I pressed it against him, moving it back and forth, working him over. Then I flipped the cap off another item and squirted a generous amount of gel into my hand, spreading it where I knew he needed it most. Then finally, finally I did the thing I'd wanted for so long..............
As he held very still (probably praying I didn't hurt him), I shaved off all of his facial hair. Goatee? Gone. Mustache? All gone. For the first time ever I was looking at him. Just him.
Turns out we did a little more than kiss. There was one more place I wanted to experience that unmustachioed mouth...............
