I followed her through to the back room, she doesn’t make small talk and I don’t even try.
The room looked the same, but looked so different.
All I could think of was that she’d see me half-naked.
And if that didn’t worry me enough, then I thought, she’s going to touch me.
I could feel myself getting wet, and knew that, even if Kerry might not have noticed it last time, Becca would.
I was so much wetter, and knew that she’d be able to smell the scent of my arousal as soon she started.
‘You know the drill,’ she said, gesturing at the bed.
I didn’t say a word, just climbed up and pulled up my skirt as she prepared the wax.
‘So, any particular style? Brazilian? Hollywood?’
‘What’s that?’ I’d heard of a Brazilian, but not a Hollywood.
‘It’s when it all comes off.’
I was glad she had her back to me as I blushed madly at the thought.
No way was that going to happen, I wasn’t worried about the pain, but there was no way I was losing my thong in front of her, no matter how small it was.
‘Just a normal bikini wax,’ I stammered, worried I sounded boring, but too afraid to say anything more.
She turned around at last, smiling. ‘That’s fine.’
I couldn’t make eye contact as she touched my thighs, pulled them further apart to position them ready for the wax. As she began the waxing I fixed my eyes firmly on the ceiling, unable to hardly breathe, let alone make small talk.
All I could think about was that she was touching me, my thighs and then higher.
I shut my eyes, worried that she might look my way and see exactly what I was thinking, what I was thinking about her.
That I was thinking about this situation being so different, that I was imagining her bent over me in a totally different scenario, together alone in my room and about to go down on me.
I didn’t feel any pain.
I felt myself getting wetter as I imagined her tongue on my skin, getting more turned on every time I felt her bend closer over me.
I didn’t know how I’d fuck her, couldn’t get my head around the physical possibilities – but still knew I wanted to.
As she pulled off the last strip I knew my thong was soaking wet.
‘All done, you okay?’ she asked, and I finally opened my eyes, finally dared to make eye contact.
Her eyes were the most brilliant green.
She licked her lips slowly and my mouth went dry.
I licked my lips.
The air between us seemed to crackle with electricity.
All I wanted was to reach out and touch her.
But I couldn’t.
‘Fine,’ I eventually managed to stammer.
Becca smiled broadly.
‘Hold on.’
She turned back to her table to grab something.
She returned with aloe vera lotion.
Kerry, my usual beautician, usually put it on after each wax, but she puts it on methodically, quickly, clinically.
This was different.
For a start Becca squirted way too much lotion on her hands. As she put it on I gasped; Kerry warmed it up first, but that was way too cold.
But it still felt good.
Her hands rubbed it in slowly, around the top of my thighs and bikini line, slowly caressed my skin.
My legs were already wide apart, but I couldn’t help widening them further.
I could smell my arousal in the air, knew that Becca must be able to smell my musky scent as I felt myself getting wetter, but started to sit up.
‘That’s fine,’ I told her, reaching to pull my skirt down, amazingly aroused yet horribly embarrassed at the same time.
She pushed my skirt back. ‘Hold on, it’s not rubbed in yet.’
Her hands went back to my thighs, went back to massaging in the lotion, getting closer and closer to my thong.
As one hand caught the edge of my thong I moaned in response.
‘Sorry, did I hurt you?’ She stopped.
I could have said yes, could have stopped it there, but I didn’t.
‘No.’
‘Good.’
She smiled at me again, and continued to touch me.
This time I said nothing as her hand touched my thong, bit my lip to stop myself from crying out.
Then her hand slipped beneath my thong.
Becca started breathing quicker as her fingers slid between my slick lips, finding my swollen clit quickly.
‘Becca,’ I said, but she ignored me, carried on touching me.
Her fingers slid against my clit, rubbed me softly, and I couldn’t help but moan aloud, couldn’t help but lift my hips, couldn’t help but want her to make me cum.
Then she rubbed my clit harder and faster, and I knew I was going to cum soon.
‘Becca,’ I moaned again, and then her eyes met mine.
‘Yes,’ she said, still touching me, watching me as my face flushed, and I could feel my arousal grow.