Previous Paul stories in chronological order.

1. https://old.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/z2lcvb/fm_i_f28_met_a_new_lover_m28_on_a_tropical_island/?ref=share&ref_source=link

2. https://old.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/za9bf7/fm_i_f28_made_love_and_fd_my_m28_virgin_lover_on/?ref=share&ref_source=link

3. https://old.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/yf6vwt/my_most_embarrassing_sexually_related_story_fm/?ref=share&ref_source=link

Paul and I had been dating for several months now. I had completed my move from Tokyo to southern Japan about a month ago and we had been seeing each other on weekends and holidays. occasionally, he had work that brought him down to southern Japan so in fact we were pretty lucky about the frequency we had been able to see one another after I had moved. All that being said but we were both looking forward to this vacation. It was in fact work for Paul. But I had some time off before my next deployment. So it was lucky happenstance that I could fly out to meet him between his jobs. This story actually starts the second week of my mini vacation as we had already spent a week in Bali, Indonesia. And while I had relayed to Paul during our first weekend together that if he were to buy me a wicked weasel swimsuit, I would wear it for him. I was not convinced that the social norms in Bali, Indonesia would really allow the avant-garde looks of typical wicked weasel and the one Paul had selected was verging on scandalous.

So after a wonderful week In Bali we now found ourselves on the Gold Coast of Australia. In QLD. Paul’s travel was taken care of by work, but I had been fortunate and managed to Get a ticket alongside of his flying from Bali to QLD. We checked into the Sheraton, and it really was gorgeous. A beautiful luxury hotel, but with private rooms or villas. A real contemporary luxury rather than the quaint teak of Bali luxury. These rooms were beautiful marble mixed with warm woods and cold steel.

We enjoyed our welcome drink on the veranda in the warm open air front lawn as our room was being prepared and moved back to our rooms once the staff told us our accommodations were ready. Hotels are always exciting and we both knew this one would be as well. But I was also excited about what was to come. What was looming. The elephant in the loom or in this case in my suitcase. The skimpy Wicked Weasel which I had made an off hand comment about the first weekend Paul and I had met. It had been years since I had shaved and I was a little nervous to be honest. I also had no idea what Paul would really think though ultimately I was comfortable with this decision about my pubic hair.

I unpacked and stored my suitcase and placed the teal translucent Wicked Weasel to the top of my dresser drawer. I stripped down in the bedroom. It was early spring in Australia and the air temperature was amazing and we really did not even need air conditioning. I could feel the warm air on my skin as I tossed my clothes in the corner. I grabbed my toiletry and makeup bag from the dresser and moved to the bathroom. I was going to need a little privacy for this. I saw my two razors in my toiletry bag and took them with me along with a set of nail scissors which I predominately cut labels off of clothing with and dropped them off on the side of the bathtub on my way to the shower for a quick rinse off. After a quick post flight rinse I sat on the side of the bathtub and surveyed. What was to come? I had not shaved in two years and. Aside from shaving my legs and occasionally cleaning up some of the surrounding area so I would not scare people too much during swimsuit season, I had mound of pubic hair that was pretty unruly. It was thick and while it has started to grow straight in the beginning, it had ultimately curled and twisted into an unconventional heap. You could see order from each side of my slit, from each labia, however, you really could not see the labia through the hair except maybe a faint outline of what looked like darker hair where hair from the two sides met together. I looked at my two used leg razors and the nail scissors and realized that to do this properly I should I should probably start with Paul's electric razor.

Paul, I called out. Can I borrow your trimmer?

What Tracy?

Can I borrow your electric trimmer?

Sure, it should be in my dop kit near the sink.

As I got up and rummaged around his dop kit I also saw his shaving cream which I took and moved to the side of the bathtub.

I resituated on the side of the bathtub and started the warm water. As soon as I started the trimmer up and the buzzing started Paul walked into the bathroom eyes as wide as saucers looking at me sitting on the side of the bathtub, legs spread open, getting ready to trim my unkempt bush.

I must have been a sight to see because he looked at me and immediately said “What are you doing, Tracy?”

I told him that I thought that it would be a better idea to trim the whole area down with the trimmer before going in with my razors.

Tracy, I love your bush.

I know, I laughed, but right now it would be a bit scandalous with that Wicked Weasel. Besides, it will grow back.

Can I help you he offered?

Um. I guess so. My mind was awash. I could not imagine another person trimming down there, however it had actually been years since I had. There was quite a bit of work to do, and maybe an extra set of hands would be useful and Paul had been so attentive to everything. Learning so quickly and thoroughly. Heck maybe he had read about this in Cosmo as well?

I handed him his trimmer and made myself comfortable on this side of the bathtub. My bush was damp after the shower the hair creeping down my thigh creases and the treasure trail inching up towards my belly button. He went back to his dock kit and got a razor guard and then put one warm hand on my inner thigh. I could feel my heart race and my tummy flutter. He held my thighs open. I could feel the spring air touch my exposed pussy. The plastic guard was cold on my skin and when he moved it to my mons pubis the first tufts fell to the bathroom floor. He trimmed around gently taking off years’ worth of growth in single passes. After a bit of adjusting and pulling skin in different directions I had a remarkably uniform bush for the first time in a long time.

He put the trimmer down and looked at my razors on the side of the tub. Paul touched the blades to both of them and just chuckled and returned to his dop kit and pulled out his own men's BIC razor and a new blade from a little cartridge pack that he had tucked in there somewhere. He took the shaving cream and rubbed it around every surface. I put my hand on his hand and said.

Listen. You have to do this slowly. This is not your face that we are shaving. You're going to have to go over areas more than you think and you're going to have to move the skin taught in order to get a good surface to shave. Focus on a small area at a time. Pull the skin tightly. Not to put any pressure on you, but we can put a quick damper on this trip if I get cut in the wrong place.

We both took deep breaths at the same time. It was pretty comical, actually. His deep breath as he gripped the razor. My deep breath as I felt the cold metal on the warm shaving cream on my belly. He started with my treasure trail, which took no time to slowly shave away. I could smell the richness of the shaving cream as the blade moved. Thank goodness he did not have menthol cream. Each razor pass cleared a path of shaving cream. Which I would then rub back over with extra shaving cream from the sides of the job. I told him to make another pass from a different direction and slowly the outer hair revealed pale white skin below which had not seen sun in a while.

He did pretty well on the treasure trail and that reassured me a little bit for what was to come.

Paul. I looked at him in the eyes.

Be slow, but be deliberate. Don't pause. You have to commit.

He started from the top of my mons pubis. Long, slow strokes horizontally over the top of my pussy. I think his biggest surprise was how quickly the razor filled up and became clogged compared to when he shaved himself. He had to stop and rinse the razor frequently and go back to the same patch of skin. Slowly under the shaving cream as he passed the razor, I was able to see the first signs of my own skin for years. After he finished the top of my mons pubis, I opened my legs up again and told him to start wide from my thighs and slowly work his way in towards my labia.

He made slow, deliberate strokes, passing the razor over my skin. With each pass, I could feel the warm air touch the freshly exposed skin. It was a process. But after several minutes. We were making progress on one side of my newly exposed labia. I would put my hand on his hand that was on my skin, helping adjust and pull the skin different directions. I would help him expose my folds and pull them tighter so that he would have a smooth surface to shave. The experience was a little exhilarating. I could feel the tingling of this shaving cream and the air on my exposed skin. I was still scared, but now more excited as the nervousness was wearing off. My blood was pumping. I could feel it in my body and even my labia were starting to get puffy and my little clit wanting to expose itself. I willed it to stay hidden in safety.

It probably took him 15 minutes just to do one side. After he finished he moved his hand to my other thigh and moved to expose that side of my pussy. He was quicker on this side with his new experience. He knew where to pull, where to tighten and which direction to slide the razor. It turned into a little process of pulling the skin, gliding the razor, rinsing it under the warm water and repeating. While I moved creamy shaving cream around for fresh passes. Soon, looking down, I could see the pink lips that even I had not seen for years. Glistening in shaving cream and my own wetness. I took the hand Faucet and rinsed off completely sitting back down.

OK, Paul, good job for a first time. But now is the hard part. You have to open my outer labia from my inner labia and shave the hairs that grow alongside the lips. Just be careful and don't stop. You cannot stop. Just smooth strokes.

He started freshly from outside of my outer labia, making everything tighter and did a great job of removing some stray hairs and getting along that line of hair that grows along the outer lip. He needed a little encouragement to actually separate the two lips and get those hairs that curled over and run his fingers between the lips feeling for hair. It was a magnetic feeling for me. My pussy was on fire with freshly exposed skin and raw nerves which had just had a razor drawn across them and were now bereft of their protective hair. I could feel everything on the exposed skin. Even his breath as he exhaled between strokes of the razor.

After I rinsed again, I explained to Paul that what he needed to do now was actually feel for stray hair. It would be easier to feel them than it would be to see them. He did a little bit of touch up work tracing his finger along every surface and fold and before long I could look down and see the hairless mound that I had been hidden for a long time. I rinsed again and the feeling of freshly exposed skin was like electricity, little sparkles radiating like 4th of July sparklers from my labia and the newly exposed skin.

Paul looked at me and said “Wow! Now that really wasn't too hard!”

I laughed at him and said you're not done by a long shot.

I moved his hand and closed my legs while sliding off the side of the tub. I turned around facing away from him and leaned over it. With one hand steadying myself on the side of the tub and leaned over I reached behind myself and pulled one cheek exposing my pucker and crack and the trail of hair my cheeks were hiding.

“Paul, you need to put some shaving cream along my bottom and crack and trim from the outside and remove all the hair from between my cheeks.”

His eyes were huge now and I soon felt his shaving cream being spread along the crack of my bottom down to my freshly exposed pussy. The hair here was a little longer as it had not been trimmed with the trimmer, but his new razor was still much sharper than either of my leg razor would have been and I could feel the shaving cream being removed from my crack and being exposed to the warm air with each stroke of his hand.

He was funny. He was making deliberate circles around my little pucker, ensuring that he didn't touch the sensitive folds of skin of that little pink starfish.

I was like, Paul, you have to get in there, pull the skin tight and move the razor steadily. You'll get the hair, don't worry about the skin the cream will ensure everything glides.

As he made deft strokes, I could feel the knot in my tummy tightening. My pussy was on fire exposed like this for the first time in so long. I could feel my own wetness mixing with the shaving cream on my labia. It felt like I was bubbling almost. Without the comfort and familiarity of my bush to just displace and soak up my excess wetness I could feel it spread. At one point I felt like it was just bubbling from within. Bubbles forcing their way to the surface and just gliding in my skin. I could feel their tracks of slickness on my nude labia as bubbles glided down my lips towards my clitoris. I looked beneath me, between my legs, and I could see my glistening wetness spreading across my mound in little rivulets. Dribbling down my thighs. At one point after one of Paul's razor strokes. One little dribble of bubbling wetness started to just descend in a long strand off my clitoral hood between my legs until a little breeze blew it gently into one of my legs. It was followed by another larger bubble, forming and falling from the apex of my labia, right where my clitoral hood was and just start descending towards the ground it would be blown to one leg or the other. I watched it in slow motion as one determined one finally reached the ground and then little rivulets of wetness followed after. I was mesmerized just watching beads of my own wetness. In an almost spider web from my pussy my legs and ground of the bathroom.

Once he said he was done, I switched hands, switching hands on the tub and spreading my cheeks. My other hand grabbed the other cheek and pulled it wide so that he could see that side and collect up the stray hairs that he had previously missed. After he said he was done, I told him to rub his hands and fingers along the crack, across my pucker and along each of my labia and make sure that he had all of the fine hairs that had been hiding in the other positions. Once he said he was done, I rubbed my own fingers across my freshly exposed skin, checking his work and spreading my own wetness. I pointed out maybe three missed hairs, but he had done a remarkable job. I was pale and pink, my white skin exposed and the pinkness of the inner folds glistening through with beads of wetness on top of them.

Holy shit Tracy, you are bubbling. Can I taste? Can I touch?

“Of course you can.” And I laid back on the bathroom floor sliding my own finger for the first time down in between my wet labia into my slick vagina, the nerve endings firing again and then brought one wet finger up to my own mouth to taste. Yes, he had done a great job.