Rachel’s Shaved Pussy Pt. 2

I left my best friend Kirsty’s house feeling a foot taller than I went in. I was frazzled, exhausted, covered in sweat, still slightly tipsy and wearing thoroughly wrinkled clothing… but underneath that clothing, I had a nubile young body to die for, the crowning glory being the most stunning, hairless pussy on the planet. With a sweet little cunt like this, nobody could turn me down. No target was out of my reach, be it man, woman, child or livestock. I almost believed that, if I flashed my vag at the traffic lights, they would have bent down and found some way to service me.
And on top of everything else, the feeling in the suddenly naked flesh between my legs seemed to be heightened a thousandfold. The touch of my panties on it was enough to set me going, and I wondered if I would ever be dry again. Not that this bothered me unduly; I wanted to be moist and ready for sex whenever, because from now on, I would be having it a lot more. Besides, I didn’t feel like juicing up was dirty any more. With my smooth pussy, it would always be slick and spicy, and a quick rinse was all it would take to clean out if it ever seemed like it might grow stale.
My dad grinned to see me so upbeat, commenting on how I must have had a good time. He had no idea. Still, my behaviour on the way home showed him beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was raring to go… for something. His grin widened for a while, but was then replaced by a look of confusion. He could detect instinctively that something was different, but not what. My aroma of recent sex and current arousal was part of it, but I kept rubbing my legs together to try and subtly get at the pleasure-inducing nub, and every time I stretched out my tiredness, my rock-hard nipples pressed through the thin fabric of my summer dress.
Whether he knew about it, though, my aura was having an effect on him: when I glanced down, daddy’s trousers were visibly tenting. This should have disturbed me, but instead it made me feel all the better. Even someone who had so many reasons – social, biological, legal, emotional – to not be affected could still not resist the powers of the brand new Sex Goddess within me. Maybe I would take pity on him and give him some relief… later.
The fact is that I was operating on zero sleep in about 24 hours though, and a fair amount of exercise – of all sorts – during that period had left me pretty much devoid of energy. In the few minutes it took to get home, I practically nodded off entirely. (Did I just dream it, or did I feel my dad’s hand sliding up my inner thigh as I sat there seemingly unconscious in the passenger seat?)
As soon as I stumbled through the door, I grabbed a towel and headed straight for the shower, partly to wake me up and partly because I bloody needed it! All kinds of nastiness coated my skin, not just from a couple of hours of copulation, but everything that had come before – beer and fizzy drinks and pizza grease and dust and badly applied make-up, and all the other accoutrements of a teen girls’ sleepover.
And of course I took the time to strum my clit while I was in there.