Chapter 13: Totally Exposed

(Shirley)

Actually, things weren't as bad as I thought. I think Jim knew that and didn't bother to tell me, wanting to make me worry about the worst.

Giorgio was a very good stylist. He asked me my opinion about how I wanted my hair done, and he was a bit surprised at my naivete about styling. To tell you the truth, I never did my hair to impress anybody--even myself!

As is usual at a hairdresser, Giorgio engaged me in conversation. I found him quite witty and just a bit concerned about Jim. I tried to dispel his worries about Jim, but maybe I tried too hard. I don't think he was ever convinced that all the attention that Jim wanted me to have was my own idea, and I knew that he was right about that. This was really was Jim's idea.

I finally decided to admit that I was a bit apprehensive about the bikini wax. "Except for Jim, I've never had any guy pay too much attention to me down there," I told Giorgio.

"I don't do wax jobs," Giorgio said.

"You don't?" I asked, a bit relieved, but also a bit confused. Didn't Jim have everything planned?

"No. It wouldn't be proper. Heidi will be the Mistress of Pain."

"Heidi?" I asked.

"The girl that washed your hair earlier. I haven't told her that your boyfriend signed you up for a massage and a wax job. You can always bow out if it's not your cup of tea."

"No. I'm just surprised. Did Jim talk with you before I came? He seems to always have things planned in advance."

"I never met him before I set eyes on you. Not on the phone, not in person. He seems a bit domineering, but he seems to be nice." Georgi's voice hinted that he didn't trust Jim completely.

I needed to defend my boyfriend. "Jim is a nice guy. He wants to expand my horizons. I used to think I was fat, and he got me into this weight loss program and I can now look at myself without too many complaints. Do you know what I mean, Giorgio?"

"Shirley, please call me George. My name isn't really Giorgio."

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah. I use the name for the business. It has other fringe benefits. I'm telling you this so you can trust me."

"Why wouldn't I trust you? You're cutting my hair!"

George smiled. "As I said, I don't completely trust your boyfriend. I saw the look on your face when he told me that you wanted a bikini wax. You can tell me that this is what you want until you are blue in the face, but that look told me everything."

I sighed. "That was a look of surprise. I was surprised that he'd have somebody do that, and I admit that I'm a bit afraid of the pain from when you rip off the wax, but I really have no objections to it."

"So, why do you want to get a wax job?"

"It will make Jim happy. He's done so much for me."

"Like what?"

"He got me to exercise regularly. He checked the Internet and found a weight loss program that will work for me."

"How many pounds do you think removing your pussy hair will give you?"

I laughed. "I don't have that much hair down there!"

George joined me in laughter. He seemed such a genuine person--aside from his name--that I decided to level with him.

"George, I think the reason Jim asked for the waxing was that he knows that I'm a bit of an exhibitionist."

"Ahh. The truth comes out."

"Jim really is a nice guy. He's one of the first that I've trusted in a long time."

George stopped cutting my hair and looked into my eyes for a long moment. He finally said, "You've convinced me, my dear."

The massage was luxurious. Heidi had magic fingers and seemed to know where every knot of tension was in my bones. I think Jim made a mistake about this; I was going to demand one of these every night!

Finally, my moment of truth came. Heidi turned me over.

"Are you sure you want a Brazilian wax job?"

"Yes," I said, steeling all my courage.

"Have you waxed before?"

"No," I admitted. "My boyfriend suggested..."

"If I had a fucking nickel for each time a girl's boyfriend suggested a wax treatment!" Heidi scoffed. "How would they appreciated it if somebody tore the hair off their balls? Perhaps with a pair of tweezers!"

The image of Jim getting a treatment made me giggle. "I don't think that's Jim's scene."

"Is it yours?"

I knew that it was going to be my scene as long as Jim suggested it. This may be a test from Jim to see how loyal I was to him and what I would do for him. To tell you the truth, the idea of a woman working on my "down there" was starting to get me a bit hot. As I said before, I'm not really into girls, but I'm also not willing to write them off completely, either.

"Yes, Heidi," I finally said. "I want it."

Heidi gave my body a long, professional look. "I see that you've trimmed it before. Not a wax job, though."

"No. Not a wax job."

The woman got me prepared.

(Jim)

I'm not entirely sure why I suggested a wax job for Shirley, but it was part of my grand scheme for today. I knew I gave her a safe phrase in order for her to beg out at any time, but I also knew that Shirley had a competitive streak in her and didn't want to disappoint me. My only thoughts were for Shirley--she kept herself trimmed for me on a regular basis, and I also knew that having somebody poking around her pussy would be a turn-on for her. I was trying to expand her horizons.

While I was waiting for Giorgio to have his way with my girlfriend, I found a few shops that were open and did a lot of window shopping.

One of the shops was a high-end dress shop. The prices on the dresses that they displayed were pretty high--some were over a thousand dollars! I got another idea for Shirley's special day from the dress shop and I headed across the street to my local bank's branch office to get some spending money.

Three hours after I left Shirley, my cell phone buzzed and I picked it up.

It was Shirley.

"You marvelous, wonderful man!" Shirley said as I answered.

"What's that for?" I asked, smiling.

"Oh... you know!"

I pretended ignorance. "I know what?"

"You know damn well why you're the nicest guy in the world!"

"I'm sorry," I said. "I think you have me mistaken for somebody else."

"Just pick me up, lover boy. I owe you big time!"

"Whatever you say, my lovely princess!"

I closed my phone and put it back on my belt. It was obvious to me that Shirley encountered one of my post-hypnotic suggestions from the previous night. I smiled as I strolled down Main Street, heading back toward the beauty parlor.

(Shirley)

Jim can be so frustrating!

Here I was, worrying again and again about the wax treatment, and the only thing I felt was horniness!

At first, I thought that Heidi wasn't doing it right, but she showed me the wax with my hair embedded in it. I closed my eyes and faintly, I could hear Jim in his soothing voice, "You will not feel pain when your hair is pulled out."

All that worrying for nothing!

My initial reaction was anger. How could Jim make me go through the hair styling and massage while worrying about a procedure that would turn out to be painless to me? I told myself that I would get even. Perhaps I would get him drunk so he would pass out, and I'd have Heidi come over and pull the hairs from his nuts off with a pair of tweezers like she suggested! Heidi gave me the feeling that she'd truly enjoy such a scene.

After Heidi went lower, I felt a new sensation: extreme horniness. Without the pain, all I was feeling was the pleasure of having the warm wax gently applied to my nether regions. Heidi was a virtual stranger, but her fingers on my body when she was massaging me showed a gentleness. She was not a looker, but I knew from personal experience that beauty was only skin deep. Now, as she was rending out my pussy hair, I found myself getting horny.

The frustrating part was that Jim wasn't here to share the experience. Knowing what I did at this point, I was surprised that he didn't figure some way to be around to see me in my torment and the look on my face when I realized that he made it so that the procedure would be painless.

I knew that I'd have to get even with Jim in a way that he'd truly appreciate.

I called him up on his cell as soon as I was once again presentable.

When he answered the phone, I didn't give him an opportunity to speak. "You marvelous, wonderful man!" I said, almost yelling at him.

"What's that for?" Jim asked me, feigning ignorance.

"As if you didn't know."

"Know what?"

"Jim, you know damned well why you're the nicest guy in the entire world!"

"Lady, I think you have me mistaken for somebody else."

"Just pick me up, lover! I owe you big time!" When I said that, I wasn't sure I was intending to fuck him senseless or to knock him out by slamming his head with my pocket book.

"Whatever you say, my lovely princess."

As I disconnected the line, I was still debating whether I wanted to love the damned guy or knock him out. He was so nice, and so frustrating at the same time!

Jim arrived a few minutes later. He paid the bill without really glancing at it, and left a generous tip.

I finally made my decision on how I felt about Jim and gave him the biggest kiss I ever gave to anybody in public.

"What's that for?" Jim asked, seemingly surprised, once I let him up for air.

"For being such a frustrating and lovable man!"

Jim simply shrugged. "Well, time's a-wasting. We've got some shopping to do!"

Shopping? Apparently, Jim was pulling out the stops today.

Jim saw my confused look and said, "I love your hair style."

"Oh? Above or below?" I asked, mischievously.

"I haven't seen your Tierra Del Fuego yet."

I laughed. I once told Jim that one of my favorite songs was Popsicle Toes, and he occasionally refers to my body as geographical references, just as Michael Frank does in the song. I decided to vent my frustration at him, and without warning, I pulled up my skirt and pulled down my panties.

Jim, for his part, didn't miss a beat. He simply whistled. "It looks soft as a baby's bottom."

My heart skipped a beat as I thought he might actually reach over and grab me to prove his assertion. If he did so, I'd probably have the most intense orgasm ever.

That most frustrating and lovable man didn't grab me. He simply stared at me until I realized that I was exposing myself to anybody that passed the door to the salon.

"I'm going to get even with you," I whispered to Jim as a warning.

"Bring it on," Jim said with that wry smile on his face.

Did I ever tell you how much I wanted to punch that lovable oaf?

Jim took me to a dress shop. He wanted to get me a new dress that would fit, complaining that all my other dresses were too big for my figure now.

I thought that Jim was just giving me another of his compliments, but when the saleslady looked at me and said, "You look like a size fourteen," I was almost speechless.

I hadn't been a fourteen in years!

Jim responded, "Wasn't Marilyn Monroe a size fourteen?"

The saleslady didn't seem to know, but closed her eyes and said, "You know, come to think of it, she probably was."

"I'm in love with Marilyn Monroe!" Jim cooed like a little boy.

I was once again ready to clock him, but I was still too shocked from hearing that I might be a size fourteen.

"How about this outfit?" Jim asked, pointing to a tan blouse with large dark brown buttons with a tan wrap-around skirt with a matching button on top.

"It looks expensive," I said in a low voice, not wanting the saleslady to hear.

"All the more reason to get it. You look like a million bucks." Jim turned to the lady and asked, "Do you have this in a size fourteen?"

"We do," the saleslady answered. "Let me go back and get it."

"She'll need some matching shoes," Jim said as she was leaving. "Size eight."

"You know my shoe size?" I asked, a bit surprised.

"You have enough in my closet," Jim answered. "It's easy to see the size when I'm looking for a pair of sneakers."

"You are amazing."

"I'm just in love with you, Gorgeous."

Before I could give him a proper retort, the sales person came back with a couple of boxes.

"Why don't you try them on?" Jim asked.

"I still don't think it will fit," I said, doubtfully.

"The dressing rooms are over there," the lady said, helpfully.

Jim escorted me, and said something to me. I nodded my head, and he then said, "You will not wear any underwear with this outfit."

Again, I nodded, and he said, "Wakey, wakey."

I dressed in the changing room, and wonder of wonders, the outfit actually fit. I wondered about Jim's command about no underwear. I would have expected him to give me that order if I was wearing something that was more or less see-through. Maybe I was starting to get used to the way he did things. Anyway, I put my bra and panties on one of the chairs that were inside the small room.

The silk material of the blouse actually felt kind of nice against my breasts!

I left the dressing room, and walked out and saw Jim and the saleslady waiting for me.

"It looks great on you!" Jim said.

The saleslady came up behind me and fluffed the material of the blouse. "I could take it in a bit if you want. You might be a borderline twelve."

Me? A twelve? Ha!

"Do you want to wear that outfit?" Jim asked. "We have a special place to go for lunch."

"Where?" I asked, wondering what else Jim had in store for me.

"It's a surprise."

After I nodded my agreement, the saleslady clipped off the tags from the outfit and headed for the cashier. I went back to the dressing room to collect my clothes. As I did so, I was half-expecting Jim to tell me to leave my underwear in the room, but he never said anything of the sort. I gathered them up and put them into my purse, figuring that I have have misjudged him. Every time that I think I have Jim figured out, he does something unexpected...

The outfit cost close to eight hundred dollars, and Jim simply peeled off fifty dollar bills to pay for it.

"Jim, that's nearly a week's salary!" I complained.

"Aren't you going to be interviewing for a management position at Phase?"

"Yes, but I don't have the job yet, and this outfit is way to dressy for an interview!"

Jim looked deeply into my eyes. "Shirley, any company would have to be nuts not to hire a person with your ability. If they don't see your qualities, then it's not a company worth considering."

"If you say so, but..."

"No buts!"

The saleslady put my old clothes into a shop bag and Jim led me back to his car. He looked at his watch. "It's twelve thirty. Hungry?"