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From: "Martina Lee" <susanasue@hotmail.com>
Subject: Shave One For Me (11/17 from Oh, Susana) FMM
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This is the 11th chapter of my book of short stories, collectively 
entitled "Oh, Susana". I am posting all 17 chapters, including reposts 
of the four chapters submitted previously. Please feel free to comment. 

WARNING: This is adult entertainment only, dealing with sex and sexual 
subjects in explicit language and detail. If you are under age for that 
kind of thing, leave now. This story, and others in the Oh, Susana 
series, may be reposted on ASSM, and redirected to ASS, but may not be 
put to commercial use by anyone but myself. I am willing to discuss them 
on ASSD or you can email me at <susanasue@hotmail.com>

Oh, Susana!
The erotic adventures of a South Seas sexpot
by Martina Lee



11. Shave One For Me

Susana smoothed the satiny skirt over her hips and buttocks, ran her 
tongue lightly around her lips, and stepped back from the mirror. Her 
left hand strayed across her breasts, testing the shape of her nipples 
under the soft, taut fabric of her top, then down her tummy to her pubic 
mound. She spread her fingers, walked them softly downwards to savor the 
smooth, cool feel of the skirt against freshly powdered skin.

She closed her eyes, allowing her mind to dwell briefly on the erotic 
possibilities of the evening ahead, and ran the side of her index finger 
downward and inward, feeling the slick fabric slipping easily into the 
crease between her legs. Then she tore her hand away, shook her head to 
clear her thoughts, and once more checked her appearance in the mirror. 
Satisfied, she turned to the wardrobe, took out two little foil-wrapped 
packages and placed them in her handbag. She stepped to the door, opened 
it, and walked out to greet her men.

Peter and Neil were sitting at the dining table on the far side of the 
living room. Susana had kept them waiting for a long time, quite a bit 
longer even than usual, and for a moment she considered apologising. But 
then she thought of what she had in store for them, and decided no 
apology was necessary. "Well," she said, as if it was she who had been 
kept waiting. "Well, are we going or not?" Immediately, they drained 
what was left of the drinks in front of them, gathered cigarettes and 
lighters, and followed her to the door.

In the carpark downstairs, Susana rubbed herself against Peter as Neil 
opened the front passenger-side door, then the driver's and 
driver's-side back doors, and slid behind the wheel. Peter helped her 
into the back seat, then shoe-horned himself into the front beside Neil.

They drove to the club in silence, Susana figuratively hugging herself 
in anticipation and relishing the wicked feeling of her nakedness under 
the skirt and top. Up front, both her husband and her lover sensed, and 
responded to, the sexual aura she projected from the back seat. 
Simultaneously, as if by telepathic order, each of them dropped a hand 
to his lap and shifted in his seat, straightening his semi-erection. 
Their eyes met, and they grinned at each other.

Inside the club they fought their way into the crowded lounge, all three 
of them acutely aware of the hungry eyes taking in Susana's bare, 
rounded  shoulders and the just-visible swelling of her nipples as they 
progressed to the bar. How much hungrier would they be, Susana thought, 
if they knew . . . she checked her rising excitement, and halted that 
train of thought before it led her into trouble.  

Amazingly, they found a spot in the corner. Even more amazingly, there 
was a just-vacated bar stool. Susana levered herself up on to the stool, 
carefully pulling her skirt from beneath her legs and bottom and draping 
it to either side before settling against the backrest. The leather was 
smooth, still warm from its recent occupant, and slightly giving against 
her bare skin, and the sensation was almost like sitting on another 
naked body. She glanced fondly at Neil ordering their drinks, and at 
Peter striking up a conversation further down the bar, and a warm glow 
spread from her waist to her knees as she thought again of the surprise 
she had prepared for the pair of them.

Almost an hour later they walked into the club restaurant to eat. In the 
meantime they had had about five drinks and Susana had found an 
opportunity to let both Peter and Neil in on the first part of her 
secret. She had announced that she was going to order their meal, 
slipped off the stool, and pressed up against Neil at the bar. As she 
did so, she took his hand, placed it flat against her waist, and ran it 
down her hip to her thigh. His eyes widened, and he swallowed hard as he 
realised she was naked under the skirt. Susana waggled her behind at him 
as she turned to wend her way through the crowd and out of the bar.

On her way back, pushing through an especially crowded section, she had 
her bottom grabbed. The culprit might have been any one of about five 
guys, all of them half-drunk, noisy and obnoxious, and normally she 
would have turned on the whole group and told them to keep their hands 
to themselves. But she kept going, and looked back at them only after 
she was back on her stool in the corner of the bar. They were all 
watching her and grinning, heads close together and muttering to each 
other. She suspected that the bottom-grabber had copped enough of a feel 
to discover she had nothing on beneath the skirt. "Good luck," she 
thought, and stared back at them as she raised her glass to her lips. 
They looked away, but several times in the next few minutes she caught 
them staring again. It didn't bother her; in fact, it only heightened 
the excitement, knowing that Neil wasn't the only one who knew her 
secret.

That left Peter. He was jammed in the corner to her right, leaning back 
against the bar. Neil was standing slightly behind and to the right of 
her stool and the pair of them were discussing football or something 
equally silly. Susana dropped her handbag at Neil's feet. "Get that for 
me, please, Peter," she said, and he bent obediently to pick it up. As 
he straightened up, she hitched the dangling fabric of her skirt up to 
her waist, held it there for a moment, then let it drop again. Their 
eyes met as he handed her the bag, and she knew that he had seen what 
she meant him to see. She licked her lips at him. He looked 
questioningly at Neil, saw that he also was in on the secret, and gulped 
at his drink. He was breathing heavily, and Susana noted with 
satisfaction that there was an obvious bulge in the front of his 
trousers. She drained her glass and said brightly: "Let's eat."

They had let her order for them, and there was the usual banter when the 
waiter turned up with the appetisers: Prawn cocktail for Susana, half a 
dozen oysters each for Peter and Neil. For possibly the twentieth time 
since she first met him, Neil cracked the old joke: "The last time, only 
three of these worked." "I should be so lucky," thought Susana. Then: 
"On the other hand, tonight may be the night it comes true." She decided 
it was time for the second part of the surprise, finished her cocktail 
and rummaged in her handbag for the little packages. "Here," she said, 
handing one to each of them. They fumbled with the foil, unwrapped two 
identical spring-backed jewellery boxes, looked at each other, then back 
at her. "Wait," she said, and looked around for their waiter. He was 
over the other side of the room. "Open them," she said.

Inside each of the boxes was a small, curly lock of black hair. Neil 
caught on first, as she guessed he would. After all, she had got the 
idea from a story he told about one of his old girlfriends. He laughed, 
loudly, startling Peter and attracting curious glances from nearby 
diners, then reached under the table and squeezed her knee. Peter was 
looking puzzled and Neil decided he needed to be enlightened. He leaned 
across the table and whispered: "You've heard of having a hair of the 
dog?" Peter nodded. "Well," said Neil, "you've just been handed the 
hairs of the pussy!"

Peter looked shocked. He flushed, snapped the box shut, looked at 
Susana. She poked her tongue at him and batted her eyelashes. Peter 
opened the box again, looked at its contents, looked at Neil, looked 
again at Susana, grinned, shut the box and put it in his pocket. Neil 
shut his box, motioned to Susana to put it back in her handbag just as 
the waiter returned.

After that, the rest of the meal was an anti-climax. None of them really 
noticed what they were eating, none of them finished the main course, 
and both Peter and Neil almost leapt to their feet when Susana said: 
"Shall we go?" She motioned them back. "Just wait,'' she said. She 
pushed back her own chair, rose, went to the counter, and paid the bill. 
Then she stood in the doorway, beckoned to them to follow, and walked 
out. In the carpark she kissed them both, heedless of who might be 
watching, then decided that she wanted to drive. On past form they might 
have ended up anywhere, but this time she drove straight home.

Once inside she said, "Get a drink. I'll have a vermouth," and 
disappeared into the bedroom, locking the door behind her. When she 
emerged five minutes later, wearing her white silk nightie, Neil and 
Peter were sitting again at the dining table. She stalked around the 
room and closed the curtains, then did the same in the kitchen. Then she 
walked back into the bedroom, returned with a pillow, threw it on the 
floor and lay down on her back in the middle of the room. "Come here," 
she said.

At her direction, they knelt on either side of her, and she pulled Neil 
down to kiss her. It was a long, wet kiss, and he was breathless by the 
time she pushed him away. "Now you," she said to Peter, and gave him the 
same treatment, then sat up. "Shower," she said, and they both groaned 
in frustration. But when the lady said "jump", you jumped. They got to 
their feet, retired to separate bathrooms, showered as ordered and 
emerged almost simultaneously, each trying to hide an erection, in their 
laplaps.

She had taken off her nightie and was lying naked, face down this time, 
in the middle of the floor where they had left her. Peter slapped her 
bare bottom and rolled her over. Her left hand flew to cover her crotch 
and she lay there, grinning cheekily up at the pair of them. Then she 
took the hand away and laughed at the expression on their faces. She had 
shaved the left side of her pubic bush, but the right side was 
untouched. "I thought you'd like to finish the job," she said.

She had it all worked out. There was a pair of scissors on the bench in 
the en suite, together with a razor and a plastic bottle of skin lotion. 
There was a towel on the bed, and a reading lamp with an extension cord 
plugged into the socket in the corner of the living room. She had Neil 
fetch the lamp and set it on the floor beside her left hip, where it 
provided maximum illumination for the area of operations. She sent Peter 
for the towel, the scissors, razor and skin lotion, then raised her hips 
off the floor and had him spread the towel beneath them. She lay back 
again, drew up her knees, and spread her legs. "Who's going to be 
doctor?" she said. There was no shortage of volunteers. Susana turned to 
Neil. "You," she said. "Scissors." He picked up the scissors, knelt 
between her outspread legs, and began to clip carefully at the mass of 
hair still covering the right side of her pubes.

Susana reached out her right hand towards Peter, grabbed a handful of 
laplap, and pulled. It came off. "Come down here," she said, and he 
knelt beside her. She wormed her hand under the waistband of his 
underpants, laid hold of his doubled-over cock, and pulled it straight. 
"Take them off," she said. Peter rose to his feet, slipped the pants 
down his legs and stepped out of them, then returned to his previous 
position. Susana wrapped her hand around his dick and milked it 
lovingly. Peter put out a hand and teased her nipples, but his eyes 
remained fixed firmly on the activity between her legs.

Clip, clip. Neil's tongue lolled between his lips as he concentrated on 
his task. Susana raised her head to look down the length of her body at 
him. He had not bothered with underpants after his shower, and his 
laplap formed a little tent held up by the ridgepole of his erection.

Clip, clip at her cunt. Tug, squeeze at Peter's cock, growing larger and 
harder with every caress. Susana turned her head to watch her hand at 
work. "Come up here," she said, and Peter stepped forward on his knees, 
leaned across her body to bring his dick within reach of her lips. She 
took the head of it in her mouth, biting gently and sliding her tongue 
voluptuously around the smooth, swollen tip. Peter flinched as her teeth 
tightened a little too hard. "Sorry," she mumbled, and pushed her hand 
between his legs to his backside, pressing him close so that his cock 
sank deeper into her mouth. He moaned, and began to rock on his knees, 
sliding his prick in and out past her questing lips.

Neil had finished with the scissors and was sitting back on his heels, 
his cock twitching under its laplap tent as he watched Peter's staff 
slipping in and out of Susana's mouth. He worked two, then three fingers 
into her cunt, and Susana gasped as he drove them all the way in to the 
base of her uterus. "Juicy cunt," he said, and did it again. "Juicy, 
bald cunt." He withdrew his fingers, picked up the bottle of skin lotion 
and squirted it liberally over the stubble of her remaining pubic hair. 
Susana pulled away from Peter's cock, pushed him upright. "You shave 
me," she said.

Both of her men got to their feet. Peter moved around to kneel between 
her legs as Neil went to the table, picked up a packet of cigarettes, 
lit one and placed it between Susana's lips, then lit one for himself 
and offered the pack to Peter, who shook his head and picked up the 
razor. He sat back on his heels, ran a tentative finger over the newly 
smooth skin on the left side of Susana's cunt, then stirred the 
lotion-slick stubble on the other side. Then he placed his left hand 
flat on the base of her tummy, pressed up to pull the skin tight, and 
drew the razor downwards in a smooth sweep.

It was easier than he'd imagined, but there was something Susana had 
forgotten. He looked up at Neil. "Water," he said, "to rinse the razor." 
Neil went into the kitchen, returned with a mug of water and an ashtray. 
He gave the water to Peter, stubbed out his cigarette, then Susana's. He 
scraped up the little pile of hair-clippings from the towel, and placed 
them in the ashtray. Susana grasped his ankle. "Come on down," she said, 
and guided him into Peter's former position as Peter washed the razor 
free of stubble and lotion and returned to work.

Susana tugged the laplap free from around Neil's waist and let it fall 
away, encircled his tool with thumb and forefinger, and urged him 
downwards to her mouth. She licked his cock, starting among the hairs at 
its base and sliding her tongue wetly along its length to the tip, then 
back again. Between her legs, Peter's left hand was busily pinching, 
pulling, stretching her skin this way and that as he prepared the ground 
for each new sweep of the razor.

Peter was humming softly to himself. He straightened her left leg, 
straddled it and bent her right leg further outwards, then moved the 
lamp to between her legs to improve both his view and his access.

Susana slurped hungrily at Neil's cock, pulled him closer and buried it 
deep inside her mouth. Then she pushed him away, gripped him tightly 
with thumb and forefinger, and pumped slowly. His cock hardened 
noticeably with the extra pressure, and he arched his back with 
pleasure.

Peter made a last couple of careful passes with the razor, sat back and 
admired his handiwork. Susana shuddered as he poured on more cold 
lotion, spread it with careful fingers over the entire area. Then he 
raised the bottom edge of the towel from between her legs, and wiped her 
dry.

It looked positively obscene, a naked cunt on a grown woman. But at the 
same time it was disturbingly exciting. The lack of hair threw the labia 
into greater prominence, and there were details of construction he had 
not noticed before.

Hairless, and partly open because of the spread-eagling of her legs, it 
looked strangely vulnerable and . . . he had  it . . . almost exactly 
like an orchid.

Peter was suddenly overcome not by lust but by a wave of tenderness 
towards this fragile flower of womanhood. He moved the lamp back to its 
original position, knelt between Susana's calves, leaned forward and 
worshipped it with his lips, gently sipping the sweet nectar from among 
its fragrant petals. Susana permitted this act of adoration for about 30 
seconds, then humped her hips and broke the spell. "Your moustache 
tickles," she said.

For a moment, Peter was outraged. But then she was sitting up, releasing 
her stranglehold on Neil's dick, and grabbing at Peter's arms. She 
dragged him up on top of her, reached between them to grab hold of his 
cock, still almost fully erect, and pulled him into her.

What was left of the lotion, combined with her own juices, made it an 
easy entry, and he plunged in up to the hilt, driving her backwards on 
the carpet as she wrapped her arms around him and nibbled his chest. She 
threw her legs up and hammered on his buttocks with her heels, 
encouraging him to dig even deeper. Peter humped, grunted, humped again 
. . . and exploded inside her in the grandfather of all premature 
ejaculations.

Susana felt him come, felt the hot rush of sperm flooding her vagina and 
spilling out to dribble down the crack between her cheeks. Peter thought 
she'd be cross (he was shocked and angry with himself), but she chortled 
with apparent delight. "Don't worry," she said. "There'll be another one 
along any minute."

She dropped her legs, pulled his head down to hers, and kissed him 
fondly, then murmured in his ear. "Off," she said. Still shaking from 
the intensity of his orgasm he resisted for a moment, then pulled out of 
her, rolled off to her right and lay, panting, on his back beside her. 
Susana sat up, leaned across and licked his softening prick. Then she 
rose to her feet, picked the towel from the floor, spread her feet wide 
apart and wiped herself.

She motioned to Neil to lie down, arranged him so that he was lying 
where she had been, parallel to Peter with his knees about level with 
Peter's head. She nudged his legs apart with her feet, then placed the 
reading lamp between his knees and adjusted the angle so that it shone 
directly on his cock. "Watch," she ordered Peter, and he rolled over on 
his stomach and propped his head on his hands.

Susana knelt by Neil's left shoulder, placed a hand on the floor on 
either side of his waist, and lowered her head to his belly. She dipped 
her tongue in his navel, then worked her lower lip under the tip of his 
cock and levered it to a vertical position.

Squinting against the brightness of the lamp she looked at Peter, noted 
with satisfaction that his eyes, less than 50 centimetres from her own, 
were fixed on her lips. She leaned forward a little more, opened her 
mouth, and closed it over the tip of Neil's pulsating cock. Then slowly, 
slowly, savoring every centimetre, she worked her way down the trembling 
shaft until her lips had nowhere else to go and the back of her throat 
was clutched around throbbing meat.

For a few moments she couldn't even breathe. She pressed her head 
downwards another impossible two centimetres, closed her lips tightly 
around the base of Neil's penis, and sucked hard as she drew back until 
only the head of it was still in her mouth. Peter rocked his hips and 
shifted position slightly and she guessed, correctly, that he was 
recovering quite quickly from the dreaded Limp Dick.

She opened her mouth, let saliva trickle down the length of Neil's cock, 
then dived after it, making soft slurping noises as she went. As Peter 
watched, his eyes bright with rekindled lust and his reborn erection 
boring into the carpet, she pumped at Neil's cock for several minutes 
until her lips ached, her jaw ached, and the back of her throat felt 
rubbed raw. Somehow, god knows how, Neil managed to hold back. Finally, 
Susana lifted her head from his prick. But she wasn't yet finished with 
him, or with the show for Peter's benefit.

She got to her feet, stepped astride Neil's body, and squatted over him, 
facing his feet, her naked quim wide open and glistening wetly in the 
bright light from the lamp. Peter licked his lips as she reached down, 
grabbed Neil's cock, and impaled herself on it. The turgid shaft 
disappeared into her for almost its whole length, then reappeared as 
Susana began a slow bouncing motion. Neil fitted his hands under her 
buttocks and helped.

Susana leaned slightly backwards, placed her hands on the floor to 
either side, and humped her hips. Peter watched, fascinated, feeling the 
blood pounding in his temples and coursing through his own rigid cock, 
pressed tightly into the carpet, as the lips of Susana's cunt clung 
stickily to the withdrawing shaft, stretching and clinging as if 
reluctant to let it go. Then, as she descended again, they folded in on 
themselves, seemingly urging Neil's pole to greater depths.

She twisted to take all of her weight on her left hand, dropped her 
right hand to her cunt and parted it further with her index and ring 
fingers, began rubbing her clitoris with her middle finger. She threw 
back her head, closed her eyes and groaned as she rose and fell, rose 
and fell, and Neil began to buck his hips in an effort to force himself 
even further into her. Finally, she lifted free of his cock and swung 
herself off his body. She knelt by his shoulder, kissed him while she 
ran a hand down his chest and belly and briefly squeezed his jerking 
tool, then moved to Peter and slapped his bare bottom. "Turn over," she 
said.

Peter rolled on to his back, his erection springing from his belly to 
point obliquely at the ceiling. As she had done with Neil, Susana knelt 
and kissed him. She reached out and yanked at his tool, then rose and 
knelt astride his thighs, leaned forward and sucked his nipples. She 
wormed her way up his body, reached between them and slipped the tip of 
his cock into her cunt, pressed back to drive it home. "Nice cock," she 
whispered into his chest.

She raised herself to hands and knees, careful not to let him slip all 
the way out of her. "Fuck me," she said. Peter put his hands on her 
waist, began to heave his hips, his burning shaft slipping easily in and 
out of her dripping pussy. "Nice cunt," he said. "Nice, juicy, warm 
cunt." Susana shivered, squeezed with her vaginal muscles as he thrust 
himself further into her.

With Peter's cock still imbedded deep inside her, she sat up and looked 
over at Neil. "Here," she ordered. He stood beside Peter's shoulder and 
she ran her hand up the inside of his left leg, laid hold of his jutting 
cock and slipped her encircling fingers lightly up and down the pulsing 
shaft, then tightened her grip and tugged him closer. "In front," she 
said, and he stepped astride Peter's chest. Susana reached both hands 
behind him, dug her fingers into his buttocks, pulled him towards her, 
and swallowed his cock.

Neil arched his back, thrusting his pelvis forward, and Susana shifted 
her hands to his hips to regulate his movements as he began fucking her 
mouth. Below them, Peter grunted and bucked his hips. Susana rocked up 
on her knees, flopped back hard and gasped as his prick slammed into 
her. She rose, flopped, rose, flopped, and each time she did the pole 
filling her creaming pussy seemed to swell and lengthen until she 
thought it would tear her apart.

She was delirious with passion, crammed to bursting point with cock at 
both ends. Now Neil's hands were behind her head, allowing her no 
retreat as he pressed deeper into her mouth with each new thrust. Peter 
raised his knees slightly and began a rhythmic heaving of his hips. 
Susana bounced faster, faster on Peter's prick, sucked harder, harder as 
Neil forced his cock halfway down her throat.

She felt the pressure of orgasm building inside her, sensed that both 
Neil and Peter were also on the point of climax, and rolled away from 
them both, lay on her back beside Peter. She spread her legs, massaged 
her tingling clit with feverish fingers. "Fuck me, you prick," she said 
to Peter. He was between her thighs in an instant, and she raised both 
her legs high in the air as he entered her again. "Harder," she moaned. 
"Fuck me harder." Peter hooked his arms behind her legs, forcing her 
buttocks higher off the floor, and rammed savagely into her, again and 
again.

Susana reached for Neil's ankle, pulled him to her, and grabbed his 
dick. "Down," she gasped, and he knelt beside her head with his cock 
jutting over her face. She worked on him furiously, tugging, wrenching, 
jerking at his tool until he cried out in pain, pried her fingers loose 
and began to milk himself as he watched Peter's cock pistoning in and 
out of her cunt. "Pistoning" was exactly the right word — Peter was 
fucking like a steam engine, puffing and gasping as he pounded away at 
her pussy. He was coming, she was coming, Neil was coming.

"Not inside," she pleaded. "Don't come inside me." Peter shook his head, 
fucked faster. Neil grabbed her hand, wrapped her fingers around his 
twitching cock. "Now," he said. He arched his back as Susana pulled at 
his prick, then shuddered as the climax hit him and he came in her face.

Susana felt the first, warm jet of sperm on her cheek, opened her mouth 
and was rewarded with a second helping on the tip of her tongue. Then 
another, and another. She gulped it down, raised her free hand to wipe 
her cheek, and licked the salty stuff from her fingers. She tugged again 
at Neil's already softening tool, and squeezed a fresh gob of sperm out 
of the end. It clung there for a moment, then dribbled out of him on a 
long thread and dropped into her open mouth.

Susana swallowed again, ran her tongue around her lips, then stiffened 
as Peter's persistent battering brought her to the edge of her own 
climax. "Don't come inside me," she pleaded again, then gave herself up 
to the sweet agony of orgasm. One, two, three, four times she peaked 
before Peter jerked himself out of her cunt and she felt his hot juices 
splashing on to her belly.

She raised her head, watched as his twitching tool emptied itself in a 
series of quick spurts. Peter lifted away from her, sat back on his 
heels, and she lowered her legs. Her left hand stole up onto her tummy, 
and she trailed her fingers through the sticky blobs of sperm. She 
smiled dreamily, walked her fingers down her belly to caress her shaven 
cunt, and climaxed again.



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