“Help me be naked and hairy, Hax!”
Gently he directed her to sit on the edge of the table. He knelt between her legs and brushed his fingers in peacock-feather motions over her stomach. He looked up at her. “I will kiss your pussybone now, very lightly.”
“Okay.”
She felt the kiss as a burning ring that made all of her discouraged and thwarted hair follicles scream and come alive. And then quickly he stood and cupped his large hands over her entire sex place, one hand over the other. He pushed hard against her several times. “Open your legs a bit more,” he said. “Good. Now we wait. It will be very warm, almost hot.”
All around her pussy the follicles were quivering and trembling and sending up shoots of hair. She looked down and watched her brown bush fill his hand. He pressed her and shook his hand, saying, “That’s it. There it goes. Do you feel the tingling?”
“Sorry, I’m getting a little drippy,” she said.
“Good, you’re feeling naked again.” He began swaying and moving his hands over her bush. “Now hold your arms up, and I will give you lots and lots of luscious hair under your arms, too.”
“God, no!”
“Are you quite sure?”
“Very sure. No, thank you.”
“Okay. But let’s see.” He removed his hands. “Spread your pussy for me?”
She reached down and felt the thicket of her hair, the feeling that she remembered from when she first became a sexual person. She spread her lips and then scissored her fingers closed around her clit. “Ooooh,” she said.
“Better now?”
“Much, yes.”
“Now maybe perhaps I will have success with your tattoo.”
In one quick motion he turned her so that she was lying facedown. “I will lay my hands directly on your butterfly.” She felt his warm dry long hands pressing at the base of her spine. “And now I lift,” he said. “Rrrrrrr!” She was conscious of a force lifting her lower back up. “Come on, come on now,” he said. He lifted her trembling until she all but hung from his hands. “Your skin is not releasing the ink,” he said. “You must relax. I will put you on your knees. We are joined now, and we won’t be able to unjoin unless you give up on the release of the tattoo, or the tattoo gives up. It is a battle now. You must choose nakedness. To do that you must play with your clitoris. I may perhaps be able to draw the tattoo out with my penis. Do what your clitoris craves that you do, and show me how open you are.”
She slid her knees apart until she felt the tendons tighten in her thighs. “There,” she said. “You can look at my cunt if you want.”
“It’s beautiful. The hair is slick — it looks newborn.”
“It’s naked, and it’s open, and — Hax?”
“Yes?”
“I need you to please fuck me. I want your cock in me.”
“Then you will have to pull it out of my shorts,” he said. “I’m afraid I can’t move my hands from your back.”
He moved awkwardly around the table so that she could reach him, and with some struggle she pulled off his white shorts. His dick was shockingly enormous and covered with murky tattoos except for the head, which was bright pink. She gasped at the sight of it, and her shoulders involuntarily arched back to pop her boobs. “You need a home for that thing,” she said in a sudden low fuck-ready voice. “Get back behind me.”
She rose a little higher, centering his bow-curved dick just where it needed to be, and then she circled on it for a moment so that it was wet all the way around. Then she drove slowly back on it. A long low guttural cry was hauled out of her. “Fuck me, oh, my god, it’s been too long. Oh, yes.” She bit her lips and felt his hands burning on her back, and then she began to feel a lifting that began at her asshole and swirled and whorled up through her skin and into his hands.
“I must use my penis to pry the ink away under my hands,” he said. He drew himself slowly out of her pussy, and then she felt his slickened seedstick slide up over the cleavage of her ass and, directed by her slippery crack, begin bumping against his hands. “I have an opening,” he said. “I’m going to fuck your tattoo free now. Uh. Uh. Fuck it away, uh.” He slid in and out from under his hands. At first she felt nothing, and then suddenly she could detect all the tiny microampules of ink withdrawing themselves from thousands of tiny holes in her skin. “Ahhhhh!” he said, “it stings, it hurts, it’s okay, ouch.”
And then he lifted his hands. “Your back is finally nude now.” He held a mirror and she saw.
“Oh, baby,” she said and she turned. The butterfly was gone. “I’m so free. I’m so clean.” She held his dick in both her hands and spoke things to it. “You’ve made me new, you lovely dick. I’m going to suck you off, and I’m going to feel you come.” And so she did. She opened her mouth and let all of his big tattooed dick inside, teasing the hole, and then she pulled back and pumped him several times and felt the come splash over her, and then she collapsed in a happy heap of complete artless pubic-hairy bliss. “My tattoo-removing wizard, how can I thank you?”
“Just tell people: Stop hiding, stop disguising, be naked for once. Be hairy down in the punany.” He took her to Lila’s office.
“All gone?” asked Lila.
“Gone,” said Jessica. “But so are my feelings for the artist, I’m afraid. He didn’t want to paint me the way I really looked, and that bothers me. I really want to see more of Hax.”
“Well, that’s unfortunate, because Bosco paid for your tattoo removal by having a voluntary head detachment.”
“That’s not good.”
“He reveres you, but his head is, for the moment, physically separated from his body.”
“Oh, dear,” said Jessica. “How awful for him.”
Wade Presses the Sex Now Button and Koizumi Visits
Wade woke up in his hotel room and pressed W, for woman, on the Sex Now button of his remote control. Then he dozed off. About ten minutes later, he heard the door open — the woman had a keycard, he supposed. He heard her slip off her slippers and her bathrobe in the dark and get into bed next to him. He could tell from the way she moved in the bed that she was naked.
“Hi. Wow, that was fast,” he said.
“Hello, my name is Koizumi. I’m a sculptor. I am also a collector of wet-dream memories. Do you have a wet-dream memory for me to collect?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t remember. I had only a few, and it was a long time ago.”
“Try to remember,” said Koizumi. “You will remember if you try.”
Wade shifted so that he was lying on his back, his arms on the blanket. He breathed, thinking. “Okay, I remember one. A woman looked at me. I didn’t know her. She was sitting under a red beach umbrella and wearing a black bathing suit. Nobody else was around. She held out her arms and I asked, ‘Me?’ She nodded. She liked me. She understood me. She wanted me. I walked toward her and knelt in the warm sand, and I put my arms around her, and then I felt this gulping overflowing fizzing of sexual goodness, and I woke up, and I discovered that I had a dab of something in my underpants. I went around for a week thinking, Wow, I’ve had a wet dream. It was great because it was a dream in which something real really happens. I didn’t tell anyone. That’s it. Not very detailed, I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” said Koizumi. “I will let you feel my breasts now.”
“Okay, great. Thanks.”
Wade felt her breasts.
“I’m sorry they are quite small,” Koizumi said.
“Nonsense, they’re exquisite, and you know what the Be Good Tanyas say. The littlest birds sing the prettiest songs.’ You know the Be Good Tanyas, right?”
“Yes, they’re Canadian. I’m Canadian Japanese. I believe in supporting Canadian singers.”
“Makes sense,” said Wade.