As for my scrotum? It's a comfort thing. Whilst made as a joke, there is much truth in (Austin Powers') Dr. Evil's rumination on the subject. There really is nothing like a well shaved scrotum. I recommend it also.
I clear my eyes and reach for the shower gel to lather myself up in preparation for the task only to see a blushing face looking me over. How I didn't slip and break something dear to me is a matter of conjecture, but the long and short was I was flattered to see her there. Positively overwhelmed, too. She pulled back the curtain enough to climb into the tub with me in total silence and stole the dark red bottle of gel for her own use. A goodly amount of the blue liquid slowly seeped out into her hand and the bottle was replaced on the built in shelf. Her hands, feminine and slender, tumbled the soaping gel into a lather and smoothed the foam over my chest. I can't remember the last time I had been so exhilarated. I could feel my loins twitch with looming tumescence immediately but tried my hardest to put any thoughts of taking her there and then from my mind. Clearly this wasn't my rumination of fantasy; who was I to take it away from her?
She washed me slowly, smoothing the soapy suds across my body, clearly noticing the barely noticeable spiking shoots on my upper arms. Every inch of my body was given due care and attention as she explored my body with and avid curiosity. In some places, like my arms, back and chest she found a firmness but at my stomach she appraised my very slight paunch which concealed my hard worked abdominal muscles. Those fingers were so devilish in their patience. I yearned for her grip on my engorged rod but she teased me close by with a swirling touch that only served to arouse me more. It was as if my manhood was almost alien to her. She lowered herself to clean my toned thighs, her eyes seemingly transfixed on my now fully erect penis. It was inches from her face, but as much as my id demanded acture, my ego remained in control and I behaved and repealed the urge roll my hips her way.
I have been washed by women before, It is a pleasant experience, but this was beyond any other. This was electric. My cockstand stood.
Usually I hold myself off to encourage a helping touch, but instinct is instinct. Perhaps she just wanted to look, maybe even too afraid to grip and stroke the smooth skin of my aching member. Regardless I relinquished full control and truly left myself in her capable hands. My mute maiden cleansed me to my toes. It was an almost spiritual experience, but my mind was elsewhere, my eyes transfixed on her skin and curves. I was desperate to touch her, but more mindful of allowing her the freedom to remain comfortable with her entirely brazen invasion of my privacy.
She got to her feet, looking me over and still without speaking picked up my razor. She looked at me questioningly and I replied with a look to my arms, turned my tattooed shoulder her way and gave a nod of ascent. With bottom lip held firmly between her teeth she ran the triple bladed razor down my skin. water, soap and hair slid down my skin as she skived my dermis to smoothness. In my life I have lain with more women that I can honestly count accurately. But never before had I felt such intimacy without love. I felt like a living mould of clay being stripped back with the razor to reveal my true self beneath. As she ran her hand across my arm to feel the sheerness of skin there I closed my eyes and reveled in her touch.
The water played across our bodies as she guided me to turn to enable access to my left arm. With more confidence she set to the task of shearing my solid arm smooth. I had to put my right hand up against the side of the bath/shower. Not to aid my balance, no. I had to give it something to do, lest it start roaming where I could not let it. This was a test of my character as well as a test of her boldness. The blades ran down my well soaped deltoids slowly and lightly, again and again until nothing was there but skin. My lady's touch was so sensual it felt like masturbation on a new level and I could feel the skin of my shaft tighten with straining pleasure.
Finally mustering the where-with-all to speak I told her that I shave my testes, too, but that I had no expectations. Looking down at my manhood she could tell I was not lying but all the same she was reluctant yet excited, her true feelings betrayed by her twice bitten bottom lip. Her gentle hands rubbed my stomach to get more lather, which caused me to tense up from tip to toe. My flexing cock almost grazed her forearm and my precum was clearly visible as it seeped a line of clear through the haze of suds. Her initial touch was like a static shock up my spine. Fingertips tracing the broken, scarred, underside seam of my length and momentarily pursing sac. She looked up at me as she stroked the scar with interest. I briefly recounted my first sexual experience with a woman's mouth. She winced a little, I shrugged. Nowadays it is the topic of light-hearted jokes and not the emotionally crippling event from my formative, teenage years.
I thought hard with myself and tried not to fill my member with more blood, as inane as that sounds. Truth is I was so close to coming I didn't want to lose control and shock her with a white line surprise. It had been four days since my last release. It wasn't going to be a short dribble. Normally I have so much more self control the sensation of being caught short was demoralising and exhilarating simultaneously. She looked unsure of how to proceed; scrota aren't like under arms, legs or perfectly plump outer labia. She tugged on the loosely bound skin experimentally which caused a great flexing of my cock to occur. She recoiled a little but I reassured her that it didn't hurt and was a natural reaction. I bashfully cautioned her of my near climactic condition also.
I couldn't be sure but I think she was flattered by my admission as she pursed a tight smile and pulled on my goods once more then slid the razor across my person. I gasped and sighed with plaintiff pleasure as she caressed my most sensitive parts with the potentially dangerous tool. The head glided across my aching orbs with light pressure. I have always enjoyed shaving myself, but this was an experience I already knew I had to explore again. As the short prickles of hair were shorn from my private pleasure spot I had to clench my fists to distract myself from her delicate wiles. Then she stopped. I looked down to see she thought she was done. I informed her to the contrary and rested my foot on the side of the tub which caused the steaming water to cascade off of the underside of my thigh.
I explained that I shave all the way back to the root of my cock. It was not hard to find under the circumstances and she complied, I dare to say it was willingly for I think her confidence had been bolstered by the kinky experience. She placed the razor down and ran her hands over my manhood. For a first effort it was almost immaculate. There were just a couple of stray, errant spikes I could live with. Soon I realised she wasn't inspecting her handiwork anymore. Through the rising steam I could see that in one hand she had my testes cupped and in the other my shaft was wrapped with a light grip. She squeezed my balls a little, exploring my equipment inquisitively.
Her hand started to slide gently along the length of my rigid pillar and ran her thumb along the underside of it, deftly coaxing a good stream of clear pre-cum from my loins. Her eyes widened a little and I again eased her surprised and described how it was an in-built natural lubrication for sex. I am not sure if she believed me or not, but I am sure she would have watched some porn or read an erotic novel or two to know that ejaculate would be pearly white. Curiosity clearly got the better of her though and her mouth slowly bobbed closer and she dabbed the eye of my manhood with the tip of her tongue for a tentative taste. She told me it was a little sweet, licked a little bit more to confirm, then continued to cajole my length and rouse my testes. I was so close. She had barely been teasing me for thirty seconds before I had to inform her of my impending release. The look in her eye and light rise of her shoulders suggested that was the point and directed my aim to her neck and chest.
The expression of intrigue mixed with the slightly squinted eyes that anticipated jets of my sperm being flung her way encouraged me to hold off for as long as I could so my first few shots would do just that.
I felt the impending surge build up in my loins and my lower intestines butterfly with pleasure and so touched her for the first time, steadying myself by way of hand on her shoulder. It made her grip my phallus firmly in surprise which sent me over the top instantly. The first line splashed forcefully on her neck between the alluring bumps of her clavicles, sending a stream of opalescent cascading down between her pert breasts. She squeaked a playful laugh and continued milking me, elevating the angle my cockstand. The second rope clipped her chin and her excitement grew to laughter. The third lacked the conviction of the first two shot a looping stream over her chest and my knees buckled.
Reflexively my fingers clenched her shoulder and my eyes closed preventing me from seeing the conclusion of my climax. I did feel lips and tongue about the head of my shaft and reveled in the warmth of her mouth as she tasted my seed. When recovered enough to open eyes and unbuckle my knees that still shuddered I saw her playing with my offering between finger and thumb. I watched with wonder at her own as she examined my semen with unbridled curiosity. Once sated she looked up and asked me to leave the shower so she could wash up. I considered returning the favour of washing her but thought better of it, turned to rinse my body and loins then exited, drawing the curtain behind me.
I wrapped a towel around my waist, left the bathroom and headed for the bedroom to dry off and dress, waiting to find out what would happen next.