Getting Waxed For The First Time, And Not My Eyebrows

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Sometimes the people whom you know have interesting experiences and tell you about them. Always a bonus when they allow you to post their story on your blog.
Today’s guest writer describes her experience in going beautifully bare down there at the hands of a professional. No DIY job here! Brave, brave (generous with the details) woman. Thanks for reading!

DEAR RUCKUS GIRL: I’m getting waxed soon. And not my eyebrows if you know what I mean. I’ll be sure to share the experience. I saw a Groupon and thought what the hell! Now I’m thinking wtf?!?!?
A little while later, I got the update. . .

Soooooo. I went. First, I had to grow my hair out like a Rastafarian.*

I sat and waited. Valerie called me back. Asked if I needed to pee. I didn’t. But I figured I better just in case the pain triggered something. So I emptied up.

I went back in the room and she told me to undress from the waist down and drape the towel over my lap. The towel was pointless because I knew shit was about to get real in a minute.

She came back in the room and lifted the towel to inspect my growth. I had plenty. There was not a doubt in my mind. Down there was thicker than an Amazon rainforest. Or as my friend put it. . . I had Buckwheat in a leglock.

So she started in the outer layer. The wax was nice. Warm and soothing. She applied some type of strip and pressed down. She began asking me questions which was totally an obvious attempt to distract me.

Didn’t work. I knew what she was up to. She was elbow deep in my short and curlies. Then mid sentence, RIPPPPP!

I jumped a couple of inches off of the table. The pain lasted about 3 seconds. . . or an hour. I couldn’t tell. But then began the start of the pattern of warm, pressure, then rip, then intense pain.

She kept dabbing a towel on me to mop up what I can only assume was a blood bath. I refused to look. Hours passed. . . or 20 minutes. . . and she began to work towards the inside.

I don’t agree with wartime torture, but in place of waterboarding, they should explore waxing.

So she smeared hot wax in my inner lady parts. Placed the strip. Waited for it to cool. Then wham. I was confident I was no longer female. Somewhere on that strip was my cha cha.

It happened 4-6 more times. At one point i kicked her. It was totally involuntary. It was my body telling her you better hurry the fuck up or I’m done.

Then finally after a few more strips, I was bloody done. Literally.

She asked me if I still wanted to do the back. Yes, I have hair back there. It’s totally normal. Google it. I came this far, so I said to myself. . . go hard it go home!

Actually, I think I had tears in my eyes and said. . . okay.

She instructed me to pull my knees in the fetal position. I closed my eyes as she burned my rear with wax. Oddly, when she pulled the strip off, it wasn’t bad. I really do have buns of steel!

She told me to get dressed and I finally looked down. My cha cha looked like an angry avocado. I was bumpy and red and swollen. I walked gingerly to my car. It was over. I am never gonna do that again!

For the next two days, my underwear stuck to my body. I can only assume it was because of the mixture of blood and raw flesh.

But three days later, my vag is smooth, and hairless, and amazing!!!! One week later, still smooth and hairless and amazing. I’m sold. Until the next waxing. . . maybe.


*Think Bob Marley and dreadlocks

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