Shaven: Mauricio’s Point of View

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Mauricio sat propped up against the headboard and his mind drifted to thoughts of cheese. Specifically Swiss cheese, filled with holes, and turned purplish black from being left out of the Kenmore refrigerator. He giggled to himself. “Cheese” he thought. For a moment he felt the dread that had awoken him from a deep satisfying sleep lift and his eyes blinked slow and lazy. His head was drawn to his left as he chuckled with a soft and accepting laugh.

“Ahh, Christina” he thought as his eyes fell upon the bluish gray alien figure breathing deeply beside him. “You are going to get me in so much fucking trouble.” He winced with acceptance.

The cheap lime green sheets purchased at Sears on sale draped over her slim – though decidedly female hips and legs. Mauricio could make out the outline of her body underneath the field of green. She was on her side with her back to him. Her top leg was bent at the hip and jutted out at a 45 degree angle. Then it bent again at the knee to run parallel to her bottom leg – keeping her balanced on her side. He could see her toes from that top leg peeking out from under the sheet. They barely looked human. In the moon light he imagined her little piggy’s as the rounded, oddly colored outer shell of some exotic sea creature, eking out a living by surprising some unsuspecting source of protein with its carnivorous pounce. They were pale pink on the bottom where the blood and muscle congregated and showed themselves through her translucent skin. Her toenails were painted black; a bottomless pitch black that only betrayed their presence by the light from the streetlamp reflecting off the lacquer. The black voids where framed by light blue skin. The skin shimmered then disappeared underneath the green sheet.

Her skin wasn’t blue. He knew that of course. It was an optical illusion. Like that dress from the Oscar’s. Was it gold and brown or blue and black? It blew up Twitter. “All the world is on fire” Mauricio thought when his twitter feed was flooded with comments “and my socially conscious friends worry about the color of some celebrity’s dress.” But it did make him think about the color of Christina’s skin. He suspected that the ugly yellow light of the streetlamp from one window, the white moonlight sloshing it’s way in from the other window, her own naturally pale skin, and the purplish lavender color of the walls all contributed to the blue hue that now shimmered next to him. Mauricio understood this to be true. This was the only possible reason. But as quickly as he had recognized this undeniable truth he replaced it with a different explanation that seemed to him to be more accurate. Christina is an alien with blue skin. And he had just made love to an alien.

From the headboard he admired the rest of her form that was in part appearing and disappearing under an ocean of green fabric. Her toes disappeared under the green sheet. It flowed into what he imagined was a green mountain ridge as seen from space. He recognized the leg that formed that ridge. It was athletic and strong lying under the sheet. It was capable of high kicks on stage but also curling itself around his waist as he thrust deep inside of her – preferably while she was holding on to the headboard with her head thrown back muttering some unintelligible language. That leg ran longer than a human leg. He was certain of that. And its companion created a similar mountain ridge under the sheet – long, lanky, un-naturally flexible.

Between these two ridges was a broad green polyester valley. At the foot of the bed the valley spread out flat and even. Mauricio traced the ridge lines and the space between them up the bed. At the halfway point they merged. And from under the sheets he saw the outline of two well-formed mounds. Between them there was a deep gorge. It was narrow and dark and wet. He imagined an underground waterfall emptying into a deep cool pool.

He had recently dived into this pool and tasted its sweet life-affirming nectar. Not the water on earth. “Alien sustenance” Mauricio thought.

The green sheet gathered at her waist and left her back exposed to the moonlight. More bluish skin was revealed. It looked like light blue latex or rubber tightly bound to her muscle and bone. Her entire back seemed to shine with some thin secretion. Sparkling, clear and viscous. It formed a tight film around her spine, ribs, shoulder blades and shoulders. Her visible anatomy was equal parts bone and muscle and skin and blood.

Pink splotches and stripes interrupted the light blue illusion. This is where the blood had been coaxed up to the skin. Mauricio had invited the pink corpuscles with his energetic groping. Even his words joined in with an entreaty. “C’mon baby, c’mon” he remembers pleading as his hands grabbed hungrily at her waist, and his fingers scratched their invitation down her back. His cock twitched at the thought.

Her arm, a bit more pink than blue, perhaps because it was less in the shadows, was cocked up over her head. It held a white pillow with green trim in place over her ear; her illegal bahis head was burrowed between the pillow and mattress. Christina regularly slept this way. “You’re snoring” she claimed one morning as she woke him up with a start – swinging a pillow over his chest. Her red locks hung disheveled over her cheeks, puffy eyes glaring out at him. Then she smiled and dove her head under the pillow again.

She claimed it was snoring that caused her unusual sleeping position but Mauricio thought it was more primal. As a child his family had a Chihuahua as a pet. The dog would drill his nose under blankets , crawling and squirming his way till more than half his body was hidden and only his tail exposed. Mauricio thought perhaps the same instinct was at play with Christina. Was she seeking security or comfort? Perhaps it was some pre-natal memory driving her back to the womb. “How did she breath?” he often wondered.

And then his gaze fell on the back of her head and the dread that woke him came back.

The top of her pronounced spine disappeared under the blue skin just where her trapezoidal muscles connected at the base of her skull. He saw that her spine, neck and skull were wrapped in a rubbery film that sparkled purple, blue and pink. He traced the rubbery hues from the back of her skull all the way to the crown of her head. Gone were the red locks that previously framed her face and dropped to her shoulder. Her sexy, wild strands that could get a rise out of him with just a toss of her head were no longer attached. All he saw was the elongated, smooth bluish pink melon that was held between two white pillows. An alien head. “Christina, my sweet alien girl, you don’t need to breath, do you?” he now thought. “Because you’re not from this world.”

And then, instinctively he moved a hand to his head. It matched the texture of the smooth rubbery skull he was just examining. “My hair is gone” he thought. Absent were his brown tightly cropped curls and sideburns. He rubbed his smooth cranium like Aladdin rubbed his metallic lamp. His hand ran in circles over the smooth skull but no genie appeared; only despair. He closed his eyes as the dread came back again. His head dropped back to the headboard and he closed his eyes. “What the hell did I do?” he thought. “How did I get involved with this odd alien girl? Where in the universe did she come from? What power does she have over me?” he wondered silently to himself.

As a kid his dad would tell him stories about the man on the moon. His dad had purchased a second hand telescope from some garage sale. On warm summer nights they would walk out to the back patio and point the thick white tube skyward. Together they’d catch sight of a few stars, perhaps Venus rising. But the moon could always be counted on for a great show. When full, it shown white and bright. Mauricio could see the craters and pock marks. His dad told him the names of the largest craters and plains but he never could remember them. He preferred the story his dad told him about the man in the moon – and how the moon was made of cheese. It was the European type of cheese – smelly holey and sometimes showing shades of blue or green mold. ‘The smelliest place in the universe’ Mauricio thought as a kid.

And so Mauricio was now thinking about cheese and the Woman on the Moon. Christina was the alien visiting from earth’s neighboring satellite. She was definitely unearthly – odd in both mind and body. She saw things others didn’t.

His fingers absent-mindedly played with the holes in the headboard. Christina had a great idea a few months back. They would design their own headboard and add a little flair to the otherwise plain bedroom. Mauricio only had some plywood, paint and a drill. “No Problem” Christina cheerily said. She revved up that drill and started drilling holes indiscriminately on the plywood. Holes of different sizes – up to 2 inches wide – appeared in random locations all across the head board. Then a thick coat of bluish black paint completed the masterpiece. When Mauricio first saw it he thought of the moon and moldy Swiss cheese. It was full of holes and turning purplish black.

“I love it” Christine declared. “And look Ricky, all the holes create great hand holds.” Christina was on the bed now, leaning back against the headboard. Both hands were thrown to the sides as if being crucified. They reached and grabbed for holes in the headboard. She arched her back and started panting in an all too accurate depiction of a mock orgasm. She was very convincing even though she was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. She abruptly stopped the act, laughed and looked at Mauricio. “Wanna play?” she asked and she slowly slipped one hand under her t-shirt and began to rub her small breast. For a moment the wanton Christina overtook the creative Christina. Her red locks spilled over her face. Her eyes took on a wild lust. Her breathing became heavy.

“Or I could tie you up to the holes” Mauricio said as he bounded on the bed trying to follow her lead and suddenly much more appreciative of the smelly illegal bahis siteleri cheese headboard.

“Ahhh” she screamed with a laugh, coming out of her slutty teasing persona. “Wait!” She collapsed to the mattress and escaped underneath Mauricio then landed back on the floor, leaving Mauricio hanging. “We have to clean up first” Christina laughed. “I can tie YOU up later” she finished. Back then Mauricio fell in love with the new Swiss cheese headboard his alien girlfriends perspective on life and sex.

But now sitting quietly in the moonlight anxiety pricked at Mauricio’s insides. “We look like freaks” he thought.

Christina had convinced him to become an alien along with her. She said it would be sexy and artsy. “Ricky” she whispered using his pet name “trust me, this will be awesome. Think of the stares we will get. We will freak people out. It will be just one huge laugh as people try to figure out what is going on.”

“I think we’ll be the joke” Mauricio replied. “Why do something that extreme?”

“Ricky, really, it’s not that bad. It’s not like those crazy tattoos you got. You’ll never get ‘I heart Melissa off your fucking forearm” she laughed. “Hair will all grow back – I think” she smiled coyly.

“Yeah, but it’s going to be a pretty embarrassing few weeks. Plus, I’m up for a promotion – I mean what are they going to say?”

“Think of the sex, Ricky” she had leaned in and whispered in his ear. An outdoorsy fragrance of lilac and juniper hit his nostrils and reminded him of their camping trip last year. Her hand moved to his crotch. They were seated in a booth of the local diner, treating themselves to fried steak and coffee. The laminate table masked her most slutty advances, but their fellow customers might have observed a few heavy breaths as Mauricio physically reacted to the incursion to his personal space.

“Hey, that isn’t fair” he looked into her eyes, breathless, but not removing her hand.

“Oh my god” she continued “it would be so fucking erotic. Completely bare skin – completely naked. Shaven and naked, naked skin.” She emphasized the word naked as the words poured out unfiltered. “We’d look unreal. It would feel unreal. Slipping and sliding all of my body parts against all of your body parts with nothing in between.” She nibbled his ear and he ended up relenting.

Christina was right about one thing. It was fucking good sex. It took them the better part of the day to remove all the large and small filaments that grew out of what seemed like every pore in their bodies. Not surprisingly, Mauricio required more attention. His 30 year old body was the perfect age for breeding hair. Mature enough to find the strands growing everywhere from head to toe – and in every crevice; but still too young for any of the hair to voluntarily jettison themselves from his skin and spiral down their shower drain. “Where did all the hair come from?” they joked.

Christina had lit candles in their tiny bathroom. The flickering light along with some incense set a romantic almost spiritual mood. Mauricio might have thought they were preparing to enter some far eastern monastic order had he not had such lecherous desires in mind. Not long into their task they realized the candle light, though romantic, was not quite clinical enough for the more intricate regions. Holding up the flame to the toes, the knee or much less further up to the inside thigh was a dangerous proposition. So Mauricio ran out to the kitchen, grabbed a high powered flash light, and came back to their sanctuary. Christina had one foot on a short stool, her knee splayed out to the side. Both hands where smothering her crotch and her head was bent down studying her hands, her red curls, still in place, framing her cheeks.

“Hey, don’t get started without me” Mauricio startled Christina. “I thought we had a deal?” Then he saw the scissors glint in her hand and realized she was just starting on some fine trim.

“Hmm – of course we do Ricky” she responded. “I’m glad you remembered.”

Mauricio in deed had remembered – regretfully – the deal he had agreed to. As they planned their full body shave, Christina insisted on one important point. They couldn’t have sex for 8 days from their initial shave. Oh sure, they could tease, kiss, and otherwise be physically intimate. But they couldn’t cum. They couldn’t tremble in violent release, spewing fluids down their respective body parts. If they did break this important rule, they would have to add 4 more days. The gist of this rule was to harness the excitement of anticipation. “We’re only going to do this one time” Christina argued, “so let’s make the most of it. If we just start rutting around every time I rub your big bald head” Christina gave out a small sexual shiver at the thought “we’re going to be doing a lot of rutting – but it won’t be – well as special.”

Mauricio agreed but with one amendment. “Fine – as long as once we get started, your slick, hairless body is mine for the next 4 days – on demand.” They kissed on the deal.

They saved canlı bahis siteleri the head for last. Scissors removed the long strands. Then shaving cream and a razor made an appearance. Then pumice stone to polish up the old noggins. They agreed to keep their eyelashes. For all they knew they wouldn’t grow back if plucked –and their instincts told them that these were used every day in protecting their precious sight. But the eyebrows had to go. Being completely bald is odd – particularly for a woman. But losing your eyebrows is disorientating – and in one of those ‘I can’t quite put my finger on it’ kind of ways.

And then it was done. Waxing, tweezing, shaving all contributed to two totally hairless bodies now mesmerized by themselves in the bathroom mirror. The soft candlelight reflected off their matte finished skin. Yellow and pink reflected back to them. The blue veins from their skulls stood out in dark contrast. Christina’s jaw dropped in amazement. She grabbed Mauricio’s head like a beach ball and studied his head, face and hairless chest in wild amazement. Then she turned to look at the two of them in the mirror again. One of her hands caressed her own head while the other polished Mauricio’s and she almost shrieked in joy. They sat there for minutes laughing and giggling at themselves in the mirror above the small antique vanity. Mauricio was seated on a small wooden chair they had rescued from an olde fashioned ice cream shoppe and Christina was straddled over his lap. Christina couldn’t keep her hands off of Mauricio’s darker walnut colored skin. She ran them down the nape of his neck to caress his shoulders and back. Then she’d lean back and palm his pecs, squeezing his bare chest like they were her own male honkers.

If she had noticed Mauricio’s building erection tickling the underside of her tush as she sat on his lap, she didn’t give in to the distraction. But Mauricio began to smell her sex wafting up from her crotch. Sweet and musky. And Mauricio realized he was more turned on by Christina’s reaction than her smooth pink hairless skin. She was off the hook! Her hands were cool pads of animated satin. And she used them to slowly rub his torso, head and neck. She admired Mauricio’s body like it was a museum exhibit and she had a rare opportunity to touch and explore a priceless object. She connected with his glance, but then would look through his eyes; she would look through his very presence to see some object of erotic art. In truth, Mauricio had never been viewed as an object of lust. His humor, his desire for adventure and his ability to bring home a paycheck where the characteristics women appreciated. Never his pure physical presence. “Fuck, she’s into me” he thought to himself. And he liked it.

Finally she threw her chest into his chest. Her stiff nipples on small swollen breasts smashed just above his pecs. Her arms wrapped around his neck and back and pulled his skin closer to hers. Mauricio did the same and for the longest time they embraced, holding and slowly caressing each other’s back. Christina whispered “Thank you”. “Hmmmm” whispered Mauricio in a deep guttural vibration.

Then Christina abruptly bounded up off of his lap. “Oh, I know what we need to do next. I almost forgot” and with that she reached under the vanity to produce a bottle of massage oil. “We need to rub this in” she stated matter-of-factly. “It will keep our skin soft and protect it from the elements now that we are truly naked.”

“Oh, so getting nice and oily is medicinal – doctor recommended?” Mauricio chided.

“Exactly” replied Christina. “Now lay your ass down. Doctor’s orders.”

Mauricio let out an “Oh, Jesus” and looked for a towel. He pulled one off of the rack next to the shower, laid it on the floor and got down on his back, staring up at the yellowish ceiling. He smiled and swallowed hard as Christina stood up above him both feet on each side of his ribs. “This is wild” he thought. Above him he got the first flash image of his alien girlfriend. Christina’s skin was a golden bronze as the flickering light reflected off the pale yellow walls. He placed his hands on her ankles and up her calves and felt their soft smooth hairless surface. His eyes followed the golden surface as it ran up her lanky legs. Her completely shaved pussy stood above him, lips puffy but not parted; a slit of skin running from her mound down between her legs where he knew there was also no sign of foliage, just smooth dark rubbery skin and alien sustenance.

Her stomach was not fat but protruded out just slightly as if Christina was harboring some symbiotic creature in her alien womb waiting its’ turn to emerge and rule human kind. And above this unworldly stomach were two pink tennis balls falling down to the earth but held back by that firm, taut alien skin. Poking forward from the tennis ball mounds, two ½ inch long pinheads stood hard and erect, pointing forward to some point on the wall behind Mauricio’s head. And peering down at Mauricio between them was that freaking weird hairless orb with dark wicked eyes and long snout. Her lips, tongue and teeth combined to form a wide Grinch-like grin that now stared down at him with mischief on her mind. If she had eyebrows, he imagined he would have seen one of them rise in a cockeyed look of mock sympathy.

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