Why NOT to shave your pussy.

Yesterday Krister came with an unusual question.

"See, Andreas and I, well, we'd like to see what would happen if we shaved Kerstin."

Kerstin, for general information, is our fat cat. Shaving your cat feels like it's more of a people benifitting act that a cat-benifitting act. Something to laugh at long before the hair grows back out, but long after getting clawed to bits. It's one of those funny after-th-fact things, like how that time you went camping with your folks was nice when you're 90, and Garden State was good because you made it through the middle without keeling over and dying.

I told him I had to do some research on it. Research told me that some kitties enjoyed it, others didn't. There was a 50/50 chance Kerstin wouldn't mind. Either way, I knew I had to get something out of it.

"Okay. You can shave the cat, if I get to remove your chest hair. With optional method."

Krister happily agreed before he realized that he didn't know what the swedish translation of "method" meant. I told him it meant whatever I wanted it to. Unfortunately we'd already shaken on it, and I had already looked up different ways on waxing.

Everybody knows that the only thing better than shaving your cat is waxing a pussy. And as you can see, I had a lot of it to work with.



Krister looked content at first, even venturing a brave smile:



Naturally, I had to match his smile.



...not that anyone had to force my hand.



Course, after a while Krister's hand was flying around in an attempt to reach something, somebody to hold on to. Like he'd get by with a little help from his friends.

"Do you neeeeed anybody?

I want somebody to love."

TOO BAD. Sad to say, neither Andreas nor I had the time or the empathy. One of us busy loving their little post-yank war dance, and one of us busy taking the moneyshot.



As Gordon Ramsey would say: "Rosemary, THYME. White wine, CUM. Breast of Krister, DONE."

All in all it was a good evening. Krister got a cleaner shave than Kerstin did however, mostly because of his hand-holding attempts as opposed to Kerstin's desperate OH GOD I NEED TO SCRATCH OUT YOUR EYES NOW clawing.

The latter would have still been worth it.

Also: presenting the now half-bald scabiescancercat Kerstin.