”The next glob of wax was spread across the top of his unkempt pubic mound. As the stick pushes the goo into his matted hair, Carl breathes deeply i... preparation. The strip comes away and he wheezes in excruciating pain. Tears once again streamed from his eyes. Petunia frowned, “Tell me if you want to quit now. It hurts, I know, but most women do this on a regular basis. I can stop, you can leave, but you know what will happen if that is your choice.”Carl takes a slow breath and shakes his. This is where I met her and I made my first eye contact with her.It was during the summer season, as everyone knows April and may in Mumbai are the hottest. So this particular day there was a little nip in the air early in the morning, I was surprised to see not many people being there as normally during such times there is a lot of rush, I carried on walking, until I heard someone grunt in pain. There she was, it was (let’s assume her name is Anju), the most beautiful lady in the garden I have. Overall she was now well fed and did not have to worry about hunger, but she could clearly start feeling the impact of dehydration. Her breath was simply obscene, she would get excited just by breathing her own smell, almost a Pavlovian reflex. Her throat and lips were parched; she needed her juice.The number of customers had dropped to nearly zero, the occasional few willing to give her a midnight snack that she couldn't refuse. The girl thought she could call it a day when she heard steps. "But tell me; love!" John began, "why was it that when I mentioned anything about sluts; whores; slappers and horny bitches; that your cunt clamped tighter on my cock and you seemed even hotter than before?" he asked."I don't know; John but I have been feeling something has been missing for months and months now and it just seemed that it turned me on to think you were calling me a slut!" she truthfully answered, "but I am not sure I could actually become a slut and do half of the things that.
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