I took my hand and examined myself. My pussy wasn’t as smooth as it was before; small bristles were beginning to grow. “Okay,” I agreed, “but ... don’t know what I’m doing.” Shelby motioned me to sit on the side of the tub. I sat on the edge with my ass facing the water and my feet on the tile floor. She sprayed a handful of shaving cream onto her hand and then applied it to the skin around my pussy. The cream was cool and refreshing. “Do you shave every day?” I asked casually. She responded,. She knows them well. His palms her like sandpaper. No matter how much he moisturized them, his hands had always remained rough mitts that seemed to paw at anything he touched, weapons, money, flesh. ‘You heard me,’ he says. ‘Now, where is he? You guys are never far apart from one another.’ ‘Used to be that way, not anymore.’ What had she been thinking, anyway? Opening the door for him. She’d looked through the peephole, saw no one standing there. He skirted thresholds, well, had always skirted. More

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