Page 1 of Sacred Vow
1
TILLY
Nerves boom through my chest as I prop my foot on the edge of the tub and take a shaky breath. This is positively the worst idea I’ve ever had, but I’m a sucker for punishment, and I don’t mean theSpank me, Daddykind.
Okay, I’m lying.
I’m definitely a sucker for that too. Nothing gets me hotter than a man who knows how to work me. But right now, the only thing getting heated around here is the tub of hot wax staring back at me.
Fuck.
There’s no doubt about it. I should have remembered to make my salon appointment. My usual waxer doesn’t take walk-ins, so I’m left to my own bushy devices. Okay, bushy is a little overkill. I never let it get that bad, especially considering the constant flow of dick appointments I must maintain to keep my sanity intact. To me, if I’m creeping past spike territory and heading into the hairy suburbs, it’s too much. This girl is a sucker for a bald eagle.
I stand, one foot balanced on the edge of the tub, wearing nothing but an old tank that reads,I’m not always a bitch. Just kidding. Go fuck yourself.I’m preparing to face the ultimate quest—a quest so vile and so wretched that only the bravest souls have lived to tell the tale.
Today, I must take the leap that no other being has ever thought was a wondrous idea and wax my own cooch.
Now, don’t get me wrong, my sweet little kitty has suffered through the darkest storms, weathered the greatest poundings, yet nothing terrifies me more than having to slather hot wax across my skin, suck in a breath, and tear it off.
It’s not natural.
What if it’s not just hair I’m tearing off? If I’m not holding my skin down tight enough, thenoops,there goes Monica—otherwise known as the left lip. The right side is Rachel, and the hungry little vixen straight through the center, the feisty little rebel who makes all of my wicked dreams come true, well, that dazzling superstar is Phoebe.
Monica and Rachel have been tasked with keeping Phoebe safe and protected, and if anything were to happen to the three of them, I know for sure, my whole world would crumble. Besides, nothing’s sexier than a genital burn, right?
Shit.
Before sucking up the courage to get started, I take a moment to pray to the Hemsworth gods that thy lips shall remain intact and that Phoebe, Monica, and Rachel live to see another day.
Hot wax has always been my nemesis. We’re pretty chill with each other most of the time, you know, when it’s slathered on by a paid professional. But today, this DIY kit makes me wonder if a good pounding is really worth it. It’s so easy to go into the salon, strip down to my birthday suit, and let my waxer deal with it. She makes it seem almost painless . . .almost.
But doing it myself, I’d prefer to pull my own teeth with rusty pliers.
Letting out a shaky breath, I figure now is as good a time as any, and if I plan on getting railed tonight, then getting this over and done with in a timely manner is in my best interest. After a thorough waxing, I always need time for the redness to go down, and if I don’t get a move on, my night is going to turn into a disaster.
Grabbing my phone, I open my camera app and position it down on the tub to use as a mirror, because let’s face it, a mirror in this situation is a must. No one in their right mind goes into a quest like this blind. I’m going to need all the help I can get.
With my camera angled just right, I reach over to the hot wax and take the applicator before giving it a good stir and making sure the wax is ready. Then as the nerves threaten to punch me right in the left tit, I scoop out a healthy dollop of wax.
Breathe, Tilly. Breathe. You can do this.
With my legs spread-eagled across the tub, I focus intently on Monica—the left lip—and glide the wax across my skin, pulling it taut just like my waxer does.
“Holy fucking shit,” I mutter to myself, taking short, shallow breaths as I wait the torturous few moments for the wax to dry and harden.
My whole body shakes and suddenly, I’ve never regretted anything more. Why would anyone in their right mind do this to themselves? What the ever-loving fuck was I thinking?
Knowing if I don’t get a move on and pull this sucker off, the wax will harden too much, and I’ll be up shit creek without a paddle, I flick the top of the wax and create a lip to hold. Then sucking in a quick breath, I clench my eyes and rip.
“HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” I scream, positive I’m holding Monica in the palm of my hand, but as I unclench my eyesand risk glancing down, I find Monica practically glowing and looking like the smoothest bitch who ever lived.
“Ooooh, you look nice,” I tell my kitty, leaning down as far as I can to inspect the goodies. I’ll have to do a second round on this patch to catch the stragglers, but beggars can’t be choosers, and for an amateur, I think I’m doing alright.
Reaching back to the wax, I scoop another dollop onto the applicator before foolishly allowing a wave of confidence to stir within me. I can do this. The lips are the worst part and, so far, Monica survived. She’s a little red and patchy, but if she can do it, so can Rachel.
I take a quick glance at my phone as I begin to slather the wax, making sure I’m getting all those hard-to-reach places, and after dropping the applicator back into the wax, I prepare for pull number two.
This shouldn’t be so bad. I’ve avoided most of the sensitive areas. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.
