I arrived home from a shopping trip to find Stephie sitting against the door to my flat looking very down in the dumps. “Well! You look happy. You lost your pay packet or something?”

“Dumped the bastard. It’s not enough that he nicks off me. He’s been shagging some tart at the fucking pub too. I’m so glad I made him use condoms; I bet that dirty slapper didn’t!”

“Come on, let’s get you inside.” We went into my apartment and I went to put the kettle on. Stephie’s one of my oldest, and probably best, friends. She’s a lovely person and absolutely gorgeous, too. But she just picks all the wrong blokes and ends up getting hurt. Returning to the lounge I could see that she was close to tears. So, sitting next to her on the sofa I hugged her gently and the deluge began. “Go on babe, wash the selfish sod away.”

She cried hard for about ten minutes and when I felt she’d about finished, I went and made coffee. Bringing in the mugs she looked up at me, still a little tearful, but now with a smile on her face too. “Thanks Lauren. You’re always there for me.

“What’s wrong with me Lauren? Am I a horrible person, or ugly? Do I deserve all this crap I get from men? What am I doing wrong?”

“I don’t think there’s anything much wrong with you Steph. But honestly love; your taste in men is pretty dire at the best of times and you do have a knack for picking some pretty dubious fellas. And let’s be honest. You really can be very gullible, can’t you?”

“Do you really think so? The trouble is, I always put too much faith in them. I always believe in them and think that they’re going to be as honest with me as I am with them. Maybe I ought to try being gay. At least that way I might get someone with values more like mine.”

“Well, you know that won’t work. When we accidentally walked into that lesbian bar in London last year, you were all embarrassed and couldn’t wait to get out of there. If you couldn’t look at it, how are you going to do it?”

With a resigned look on her face, Lauren looked up at me and said, “Yeah. You’re right. I’m just gonna have to stay on my own for the rest of my life and end up a lonely old spinster. Fuck it! I think I’ll go home and get pissed.”

I laughed and said, “Tell you what. There’s a booze shop on the corner. Let’s go and get a couple of bottles and get pissed together, here. You can sleep in the spare room. It’s Saturday tomorrow and we don’t have to be up early, so we can sleep it off.”

So. That’s what we did. We started off on a bottle of wine, followed by some really nice cherry brandy that I had. We got to talking about men and as the alcohol level went up, more and more of our insecurities came tumbling out. I’d broken up with my last boyfriend, Dennis, nearly a year ago and my sense of self-worth had since taken a dive. Getting drunk reminded me of just how low I’d felt. And Steph! Well! She was just stuck in a great pit and by the time we got on to rum and blacks she was sobbing about how ugly she must be and how stupid she is. And then we got so pissed we started giggling out of control.

I think it was about then that I must have mentioned how I thought she was dead pretty and that my friend Jerry, who’s a photographer, would probably fall over himself to get her to pose for him. At that idea, Steph burst out laughing even more and started pulling silly faces and getting into daft posing positions. We were laughing hysterically…

Until we started puking. Oh God, I felt ill. We both puked back most of what we’d been eating and drinking. I think some of what came back was from meals I had two weeks ago. Neither of us made it to bed that night. We just curled up, fully clothed, on the rug with a couple of cushions at, I think, about three in the morning.

I awoke at 7:00ish and woke Steph. Then we staggered off together and got into my bed, still fully clothed, where we slept through to 1:00pm. God I felt rough. At one time, Steph used to stay with me a lot and as I have a large shower cubicle it wasn’t unusual for us to shower together. Waking her again, we walked very carefully and gently, supporting each other as we went, into the bathroom, got undressed and into the cubicle, almost with our eyes closed. Without thinking, I turned the shower on and we were both drenched in an absolute deluge of bloody cold water, until the warm water began to come through.

That woke us up, I can tell you. Steph screamed and swore, as did I, but it seemed to do us some good. We dried off and I lent her a dressing gown, then we went off to make some breakfast. We decided we needed a proper breakfast of eggs, bacon, tomatoes and mushrooms. As we sat together eating, Steph looked up at me and asked, “Lauren, it’s not that long since we last showered together is it? I’ve never noticed before that you shave your pubes, how long have you been doing that?”

I thought about it and replied, “Actually, it’s a couple of years since you last stayed here. Dennis persuaded me to try shaving; he seemed to have a thing about it and in the end I decided to give it a try. It’s the one thing I’ve got to thank him for and I’ve been doing it ever since.”

“But you haven’t had a boyfriend since so why do you still do it?”

I think I blushed a bit. Then I replied, “It feels so nice. Even if I don’t have a boyfriend I still need to, you know… have the occasional orgasm… even if it’s, you know… just me.”

When I’d said that, Steph blushed profusely. “Oh, right. I see. Er, sorry. Didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

Silence reigned for a few minutes and then Steph, who’d been closely examining her breakfast, asked, “Er, Lauren? Do you mind if I ask you about it? You know, the shaving.”

With a deep sigh I said, “Ok, what do you want to know then?”

“Well, first of all, what did you mean, ‘It’s the one thing you’ve got to thank him for’?”

“Have you never shaved yourself down there then?”

“No. It never occurred to me to shave.”

“Oh! I thought everyone did it these days, at least sometimes.” I considered my answer for a moment and then went on, “The first time I shaved, I made a bit of a mess of it and ended up with lots of little cuts everywhere. But as I rinsed the shaving foam off I realised how nice it felt down there. So smooth and sooo, so sensitive.” As I went on I began to blush madly again. “I began to, you know, stroke myself there and it felt lovely. I carried on, stroking myself right down between my legs to my lips and then back up to my clit. It just got better and better. I ended up having a tremendous orgasm. And then another one. I had about five or six all told that time and it was lovely. Decided there and then that I was going to carry on shaving and here I am.”

“How often do you shave?”

“Usually every morning. I didn’t do it this morning because, well, for a start, you were there and it didn’t seem appropriate, and secondly, I still felt pissed and wouldn’t have trusted myself with a lollipop stick, let alone a razor.”

We finished breakfast in silence and then went back into my bedroom to get dressed. As we did so, Steph suddenly seemed to notice the framed photographs on the walls, which are of me in various sensual poses. Gazing from the pictures and back to me, she asked, “Blimey Lauren. When did you get these done? I didn’t spot ’em last night I was so drunk, but flippin’ ‘eck, they’re quite saucy, aren’t they?”

“I told you about my photographer friend last night. Don’t you remember? I said he’d probably like to have you pose for him and you started doing all those daft poses and mucking about.”

“Oh yes! It’s beginning to come back to me now. But I don’t remember you saying anything about posing yourself.”

“No, you’re right. I probably didn’t. We were laughing and giggling so much I must have forgotten to mention it,” I said. “Anyway, if you ever fancy it, you know, I could ask him for you. We could even do a set together, for fun, if you like.”

We had a little lunch and Steph went home later feeling just a little better about herself. I was surprised when, the following morning, she turned up on my doorstep again.

“Lauren,” she began, “I’ve not been able to stop thinking about your suggestion all night and had to come back and talk about it.”

I was wracking my brain trying to remember what she was talking about, “What suggestion?”

“You know, the photo session.”

“Oh that. I take it from your level of excitement that you’d like me to arrange it for you then?”

“God, yes! I’ve never had my picture taken properly before and the thought of posing like you did just seemed to excite me. So, yes. If you can set it up, I’d like to try it. If that’s ok with you.”

So I agreed to see what I could do. Jerry is quite a nice bloke. When he’d photographed me, he’d been living with a friend of mine and had asked me when we were all out together one night. I agreed to pose as long as Clare, my friend and his girlfriend, was ok with it. They’d both come to my flat and Clare had helped me with my hair and makeup. It’d only taken an hour. Jerry had been very professional and nothing had happened. At least, nothing had happened whilst they were there, that is. I found the session to be an incredible turn-on and when they’d left, I went straight back into the bedroom, got all my favourite sex toys out and played with myself until I was sore as hell and had come about a dozen times. I still masturbate regularly thinking about that photo session and what might have happened.

So I rang the flat where they lived. Jerry answered and I told him who I was and then asked to speak to Clare. He was silent for a moment and then said, “Look, I’m very sorry Lauren, but we broke up about two or three months ago. Clare’s living with someone else now; a barman I think. It just didn’t work out between us. She moved out of here and straight in with him. I think it had been going on for a while. We hadn’t been, you know, living as a ‘couple’ for some time. And to be honest, it was a bit of a relief. The spark had definitely gone, so it was for the best really.”

I expressed my sympathy, etc and said it had been nice talking and I’d see him around and then hung up. I cursed when I’d put the phone down, but then decided to ring him straight back. As he picked up at his end I said, “Hi, it’s me again, sorry. It wasn’t actually Clare I wanted to talk to, it was you.”

“Oh, ok. How can I help you then?”

“Remember those pictures you took of me last year?” “Yes.” “Well, another of my friend’s would like to have her pictures taken too. Similar to the ones you did of me. And I might have some more done too. If you’d like to do some more, of course.”

Silence! And then, “Er, yeah, ok. That could be arranged. But I think I’d prefer to meet your friend first and discuss things. Would that be ok?”

We had a chat about a few details and agreed to meet that evening in a pub near my flat. He didn’t have a girlfriend at present, so didn’t have to have her agreement, or worry about upsetting her if she didn’t like the idea. The meeting went well; Steph and Jerry got on like a house on fire and we set it up for the following Friday evening, with the idea that he’d do a photo session and then go home to print out the best ones. He’d leave his lighting set up so that he could come back the next evening, with the pictures, to make any alterations and finish off the session.

I could not believe how Steph was when she arrived two hours early the following Friday. She was an absolute bag of nerves, full of nervous chatter about absolutely nothing. I took her in, sat her down and gave her a large G & T. After twenty minutes or so she began to chill a bit and gradually came back down to Earth. We’d already decided on her outfits for the session earlier in the week so all she had left to do was get ready. As I’d showered earlier I told her to go and have one too and then put on my silk wrap; we’d decide on clothes when Jerry was ready to shoot.

Jerry arrived exactly on time and got set up really quickly. We’d agreed to use my lounge because it was the largest room and there was plenty of space for the lighting and tripods. Having posed for him myself on a couple of occasions, I had total confidence in him and his professional attitude and as soon as Steph was ready he took control, getting her to show him her outfits, talking about which order to use them in and then leaving us alone to get her dressed.

For her first outfit Steph was wearing a royal blue skirt suit, which matched her blue eyes and raven hair and that finished just above her knees, with a white, fitted blouse. For her underwear we’d chosen a white, three quarter, under wired, platform bra with widely spaced straps that left her ample cleavage fairly open, and matching white briefs and suspender belt, with black seamed stockings attached. The effect was breathtaking and we’d finished it off with her black, horn-rimmed glasses (which she tried to kid people she didn’t need) and a pair of black, patent court shoes with four inch stiletto heals

Presented with this vision, Jerry gave a firm nod of approval and immediately got the session going. He had Steph sitting in very prim poses, knees together and looking very shy. Then she posed standing in various positions, but always looking wonderfully demure. After about ten minutes of these poses, Jerry said, “Right Steph, I need to know how you want to go on from here. We could keep the mood very demure and only shoot you fully clothed, or we could go on from here to more risqué poses. It’s up to you. The second option would involve removing some of your clothes, of course.”

“Well, I’m not here to just look like a virgin. What do you want me to take off first?”

“Good. That’s what I expected. Start by slipping out of your jacket. I want to get some shots of that very pretty blouse. Then we’ll go for the “getting undressed for bed” look. I’ll leave it up to you how far you go.”

It wasn’t long before she was down to her undies and to be honest, she looked really good. Steph was a natural and went from pose to pose without fuss. In certain views from the front you could just make out her quite prominent pubic bush and the first time it showed I saw Jerry do a double take as the dark triangle came into view. Then he said, “Are you happy to go on?” to which Steph nodded her consent. “I have to tell you though Steph; this is the first time in several years that I’ve photographed anyone with a full set of pubes. In my experience, most girls remove most, or usually all, of their bush, especially when they’re being photographed.”

“Oh. Lauren said something similar last week. What do you suggest we do?”

“It’s up to you really. Would you like to have them removed, or carry on as you are?”

“Well, if I go for the removal option, what are you suggesting?”

“I don’t know. Lauren, have you got any ideas?”

I thought about it for a while and a plan sort of developed in my head that got me quite turned on. I said, “What about if we make a slight alteration to our plans and make it a two person, sort of semi-lezzy type shoot? We could make it look like Steph’s flat mate has come home, found her getting ready for bed and then take it from there. The flat mate could shave Steph’s pubes for her and then they could pose together to finish off the session. How does that grab you?”

Stunned silence!

Jerry looked across to Steph who slowly looked from him to me. Then she said, “Ok. Sounds good to me.” But as she said it, trying to sound cool and to pass it off as nothing unusual, I heard a little tremor in her voice and I just knew that she was as turned on by the idea as I was. Neither of us is gay or bi or anything, but it was just a thing in the moment, sort of.

So we carried on and I went and put on some nice clothes myself. For the camera, we made it appear that I was just getting in from shopping. Jerry continued his direction and I took my jacket off, beneath which I was wearing a short, pleated skirt and a cropped, very brief halter-top, tied loosely at the neck and back. Then he instructed us to look like we were having a little welcome home kiss. I’d certainly never kissed another girl before and I was pretty sure that Steph hadn’t either. As I went into her arms I’d intended to just give a little peck on the lips, but it immediately went a lot further than that and turned into a full on kiss, tongues and all. After a few seconds, I broke off and looked into her eyes. “Are you ok with this? Do you want to go on?” I whispered.

Steph whispered back, “I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on in my life. You bet your fucking arse I want to go on!” I leaned back in and carried on where we’d left off, the kiss becoming more and more passionate. Jerry told us to pretend to stroke each other. Steph’s hands were all over me, stroking my back and coming round inside my top and stroking my breasts, then down to my backside, under my skirt, whilst both of my hands attended to her ample breasts and nipples. I could hear the camera clicking away and for some reason that turned me on even more. On Jerry’s directions, I gently lowered Steph to the settee, kissing her all over and then knelt in front of her. Putting my hands behind her, I released the catch on her bra and brought my hands round to cup her breasts beneath the loosened garment, stroking her now erect nipples with my thumbs. Removing the bra completely, I leant in and softly kissed her nipples and then trailed more kisses down over her firm stomach.

Then Jerry said, ” Ok. Now Lauren, I want you to take Steph’s knickers off and then pretend to start using your tongue on her.” As my hands reached her panties I hooked my fingers into the waste band and dragged them down, waiting as she lifted her beautiful bottom off the settee so I could get them all the way down. My kisses continued down to her vulva and my tongue darted out, very lightly brushing against her clitoral hood and then very slowly, I traced a line down along her very damp lips. I heard Steph gasp and say, “Oh shit. Oh fuck, fuck, FUCK!”

Unfortunately, within seconds, I found myself with a pubic hair in my mouth and had to pull my head away to get rid of it. Steph moaned aloud in frustration and Jerry said, with a grin in his voice, “Ok girls. We’ll stop there for now. You see what us men have to put up with Lauren? Pretty off-putting, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is. Shall we take this opportunity to start shaving Steph’s muff?”

I’d already taken my shaving kit, plus a fresh blade, from the bathroom. I fetched a bowl of very warm water from the kitchen and set to work. First I trimmed Steph’s pubes as close as I could with a pair of scissors and put the trimmings in the bin before soaking what was left of her pubes with a flannel. Next I squeezed some shaving gel on her and spread it all over her pubes. It didn’t take long and I’d soon shaved her as smooth as silk all over, including around her arsehole. Jerry was clicking away all the time and must have got some really good shots of a woman being shaved.

After washing the residue of the foam away, I told Steph to touch herself to feel what it was like. Bringing her hand down to her now bare muff, the look on her face was a picture. “Oh my fucking god. This feels fantastic. It’s like being touched for the very first time. Ever. I feel sooo sensitive.” With her legs spread fully apart, Jerry told me to put my face back onto her quim and pretend to start kissing her small, crinkly inner lips again. He told Steph to hold her lips apart so I could gently licked along them, before licking up and along to her clit, which was now very erect. She was moaning loudly and saying, “Oh, oh oooh. Shit. Oh fuck.” All the while Jerry was clicking away.

Then suddenly, Steph put her hands to the back of my head and pulled herself onto me, groaning all the time and in no time at all, she was spasming furiously against my face in an explosive orgasm. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck me. Oh fuck me hard. Lick my fucking clit. Aah. Ooh. Nnng. Huh. Huh. Huh. Huh. Aaaagh.” The floodgates opened and she came like an express train, grinding her cunt against my face, nose and lips. It was just so erotic it nearly made me come in sympathy.