Delightfully unique- whatever or whomever I'm writing in consent, romance, and lust.
While the inspiration picture is entirely lovely and I enjoyed seeing Cara's thighs close up, the whole picture itself led my mind to my own body hair and something within my virtual family.
Tommy put the plug in the bathtub beside the armchair. Smiling, he turned his chosen bath oil bottle over the fast collecting water.
Miwa sat in front of the armchair. “My Lord, sitting in the armchair to play the shamisen feels too weird.”
“Okay, sorry for my Western mind. Create your art as feels right,” Tommy said before leaning over to kiss Miwa's forehead. He scratched his nose and moved in front of a vanity. “Scruff.” As the water continued to run, he covered his cheeks and chin in a thin layer of shaving cream before passing the razor over his stubbly facial hair. He grimaced at his hair falling into the foam and placed his razor on the counter before pulling up his shiny black strands into a hair clip.
“You'll need to go under the water, my Lord,” Miwa teased as she carefully plucked individual strings.
“Are you trying to get a trip to the pool before I'm supposed to present us to The Queen?” He grinned at her in the reflection of the mirror.
“Not at all, my Lord.” Miwa laughed her tinkling pleasure. “He may very well want to swim later, my Lord.”
Tommy stepped to his tub and turned off the water before returning to the vanity to clean up the mess he'd left behind. He sighed as Miwa produced the first, long notes of a song she'd played many times for him. Mess cleaned up, he eased himself into the hot water and leaned back onto the bathtub pillow. He closed his eyes.
Miwa's voice joined the shamisen's music.
I need to start up learning Japanese again. Tommy breathed in and tried to separate the fragrance notes in the oil preparation he had used. First he smelled the pine that would help him to smell similar to The Queen. Then the Ylang Ylang to help their energies balance. Then finally, the Bergamot for its sunny radiance. Without opening his eyes, he murmured, “Love, when you finish this song, please bring me the razor I forgot on the vanity.”
Miwa seamlessly moved from a Japanese word to saying, “Yes, my Lord,” before returning to her song.
What will I shave today? I'm glad in this household that I've come to learn body hair not to be assigned by gender identity or presentation. Tommy lifted his hands out of the water to flex and wiggle his fingers. He rested his hands on his chest to explore areas that he might shave, or have Miwa shave. The hair on his forearms had grown back feeling thick. His smile returned when he thought of The Queen's heightened passion the time he had shaved his pubic hair. “Smooth, not soft,” he murmured.
Miwa changed from one note to another as if in agreement with his non-contextual statement. Her song ended, she kissed his forehead before moving to complete his order.
“Miwa, love, I want you to shave my chest and back for me.” Tommy opened his eyes to enjoy her response.
“It shall be my pleasure, my Lord,” Miwa said, his pink razor in her hand. “Would you like me to do that first, my Lord?”
“Please.” Tommy moved to his knees so his torso was above the water. He lowered his chin to his throat and waited. He breathed in at her small, soft hand moving over his back to coat his skin with the Shea butter shaving lotion he'd created for the body.
“I'm so grateful you enjoy me giving you this care, my Lord.” Miwa's touch changed just before the protection strip of his razor touched his skin.
He released a held breath. “I enjoy it, even if I can't enjoy your shamisen playing at the same time.”
“I could sing, if that would please you, my Lord.”
“Maybe sometimes, but today I'd just enjoy talking.” His eyelids fluttered as her other hand touched the small of his back. “What areas of my body do you think I should shave for our Queen?”
“I believe your expression at one point implied you were thinking to shave everything below your neck and I would agree, my Lord,” she said, her voice stronger in speech than it had been while she was singing.
He laughed. “It seemed at first that you were trying to get out of giving a real answer.”
She joined him in laughter. “No, my Lord, just taking my time. After all, you didn't ask a yes, no question, my Lord.” Her fingers move gently between his asscheeks.
“Ahhh,” his moaning sigh formed phonemic sounds that time. I hope I just come into the bathtub so it's easier to shave my pubic hair. “That's perfect, my dear. Thanks for continuing down.” He wrapped his hand around his shaft.
“I'll be done there in just a moment, my Lord.”
Just after the razor moved over the hair around his asshole, he cried out as he ejaculated hard. He grabbed the side of the tub and looked over his shoulder at her. “Hopefully The Queen doesn't want me to come too soon.”
She brushed a hand over his smooth cheek. “Especially since there's so much more of you to shave still, my Lord.”
And yes, as I was writing this, I thought of Posy Churchgate's comment of my writing being like an impressionist picture since I don't think this is a straightforward “sex scene.”