Every couple weeks I usually get a wax—you know down there  ⇙↓➘

Fuck it, a Brazilian, okay. THERE I said it!

So I know the females understand when I say that getting your pussy waxed is murder.

I should be like the waxing connoisseur.

I always say that I have to try different forms of waxing everywhere I go—when I travel.

In Brooklyn, there is this place where I usually go to when I’m in NY—where they put this pink runner form of wax on your pum pum, and you have to lay there with your legs open till it dries, then the lady comes in the room (she doesn’t countdown or nothing), and rips the wax off after its formed some type of hard shell (I mean pussy crying tears and everything). I swear I could feel my clit pulling along with the wax. I have to check every time to make sure I still have something left.

Although I’ve experienced many tortures, waxing should be less painful for me, but it still feels like the first time, for the most part. But that’s just minor.

*side eye*

Okay, so this new Brazilian place in GA is supposedly killing these hoes on prices, and damn good at that with the waxing—sometimes. However, they do have a few rocks in there mixed up with those gem estheticians.

Let me tell you, I ain’t never had to work so hard in my life to get a fucking wax, and this is supposed to be their job.

Why da hell do I have to lift my legs and do the most for my pussy to be bare?

I mean come on.

Normally, your suppose to open your legs in a butterfly position, or one leg open one leg straight, etc.

This lady got me straining myself in all types of positions for no damn reason. Makes me wonder if this is her first time on her own as a stand-alone waxer.

Then the kicker, this bitch told me to put my hands on my ass and spread my asscheeks! I said WHAT? WHY!

She said to get the back. I’m like wtf I ain’t never felt so violated in all my life.

Now I know what a first time felon in jail felt like when a fruit basket was placed on his bed after the first day of initiation.

I just wanted to curl up in the corner of a safe room after witnessing Eddie Murphy and Johnny Gill touch on kiss me softly and I’ll Feed you Grapes: The sequel, of course.


I digress.

From that day, I don’t want Olga, or whatever her name is, waxing me again.

Have you ever experienced something like this?


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