Momentary Perspectives

In the past year, I’ve come to really love my pubic hair after having a partner (The Texan) who didn’t want me to shave it, ever.  It was as if having permission to let it grow out – a permission that stemmed from desire – allowed me to experience how good it felt.  I love the way it feels physically when I push my fingers through it, how protective it feels, and how it’s come to be symbolic of a love that embraced a natural version of myself, just as I am.  For so many years, I’d shaved because I thought that was what was expected of me – I lived with the razor bumps and itchiness and never stopped to consider my own feelings.  It took a partner’s preference to make me reflect on my own.

I thought about writing a narrative piece for this, but when I think of pubic hair, several small and fleeting moments and memories pop into my head all at once, disjointed:

          a friend with benefits refusing to go down on me (that didn’t last long) because he thought shaved vulvas were pre-pubescent in appearance and it freaked him out;

          the first time I saw a shaved cock and balls and how much it freaked me out.  I didn’t say anything, but I was surprised and a little bit turned off.  Obviously not surprised anymore, but it’s still not my thing;

          a former partner who loved having her pubic hair tugged, just a little, while being eaten out, which was super hot;

          randomly finding The Texan’s pubic hairs all over my apartment and smiling every time, even weeks after he left;

          experiencing the different textures of the hair of different partners and relishing those differences

          running my fingers through the soft mound of hair that grows and grows when I travel (along with some pretty luxurious armpit hair, which I also really like growing out);  

          burying my face in a partner’s pubic hair after particularly sweaty sex to deeply inhale the scent of our fucking

Maybe that’s it.  Pubic hair catches the smell of us moving together in sync.  Maybe that’s why I’ve come to love it.  Or maybe it was finding one hidden behind my couch and suddenly remembering riding him, wave after wave of orgasm crashing down around me.  What was once a burden is now a deep well of pleasure, a replenishing source of desire.


Let it Grow

Last week, I wrote about the origin story of these lyrics; here they be!

(To be sung to the tune of that D*sn*y song you couldn’t escape from for at least a year):

The lights glow bright on my bare crotch tonight
Not one hair to be seen
But resembling prepubescence
Is really not my thing

You’d think avoiding lice and crabs is worth the pain,
But once you shave it all you gotta keep going

Once you start it’s so easy
Get past the itch and you will see
And yes, the process might be slow
But worth a go

Let it grow; let it grow
Don’t shave it off anymore
Let it grow; let it grow
Throw your razors out the door
I don’t care what they’re going to say
Let those pubes grow out
Big bush is accepted here anyway

You think that having wild hair
Will make your junk seem small
But when you put your dick inside me
Don’t feel that way at all

Hair growth won’t change what you can do,
And it feels good to run my fingers through
It’s a much softer ride for me
So I feel free to

Let it grow; let it grow
Put your face in my furry pie
Let it grow; let it grow
Wave razor bumps goodbye
Here they sprout, and here they’ll stay
Let those pubes grow out…

My power bush is big just like the seventies
I’d pluck some errant hairs, but only if you beg me please
I want to bring the trend back to the recent past
I’m never going back; these pubic hairs will last!

Let it grow; let it grow
That baby crotch is gone
Let it grow; let it grow
Like a wild and untamed lawn
Here they sprout in the light of day
Let those pubes grow out – big bush is accepted here anyway.

I’m thinking I should write several more of these and record them on an album called Disney After Dark… but it’s possible that’s already been done.

If you are an excellent singer (or a terrible singer; I’m no judge!) and want to make a video of yourself or an audio file of yourself singing this, I’ll post a link to it on this page!

If you want to re-post these lyrics, great!  Please include a link to this page.

Disclaimer: I love bare vulvas.  I had one for several years, and I think they’re beautiful.  If you’ve got a naked crotch, I’m not dissing it!  ❤

Natural Woman

I was sitting in a BBQ restaurant with The Texan last year, chatting about my newfound appreciation of pubic hair.  He’s really into it; when we first met, I wasn’t.  Until I came to Korea, I shaved everything.  I only stopped shaving my pubic mound when I started noticing the old ladies in the gym shower staring unabashedly at my crotch, wondering what terrible travesty had happened to make all of my hair fall out (or perhaps thinking, “Why would someone do that on purpose?!”).  Shaving / waxing isn’t much of a thing in Korea, so most of the ladies here have lush, glorious bushes. 

I, on the other hand, grew up in a culture that demands its women be perfectly plucked and hairless, so I came to Korea bare.  When The Texan asked me to grow it out, I was uncomfortable at first.  “I don’t know,” I said.  “I’ve been shaving for over a decade.”  Cool, he said, buuuut it would really turn him on if I let it grow a little bit.  So I did.  I let it grow out for a whole month – until I had a date with someone else and shaved it off again.  And I was surprised a few days in how much I wish I hadn’t.  My vulva felt cold and itchy and generally unpleasant.  I realized there are benefits to having pubic hair – I’ll never scratch a partner during that phase in between shaves; my crotch doesn’t look like that of a pre-pubescent girl; much less maintenance is involved.  It’s actually pretty darn nice.     

One day in the shower, he asked why I shaved.  I told him that I like the way it feels; that it wasn’t for my partners, it was for me.  I told him I shave because I want to.  And I do love the day of and the first day after shaving where I’m all silky smooth; it feels better when I masturbate because my skin is more sensitive, and it feels amazing to the touch.  But a few days after shaving, it doesn’t feel so great.  I don’t want to shave too often because I don’t want my precious puss to get razor bumps, and I’ve never even considered waxing because of the price.  After not shaving for a month and then shaving it off for my date, I started rethinking my previous stance.  Was I really doing this for me?  Or was I doing it for what I perceived my partners wanted?  Once a partner actually directly stated what he was into and I tried it, it turned out that I really liked it.  Or at least, to a point.  If The Texan had his way, my cunt would be a woolly mammoth; once it gets to be a little too woodsy down there, I start deforesting.  I mean, I do wear a swimsuit in public at times.

Anyway, the BBQ restaurant.  I was telling him how much I was enjoying letting my pubic hair grow out, and I made a joke that I liked it so much I was going to write a song about it.  His laughter only encouraged this absurd line of reasoning, and so all of this is to say I wrote a song parody about pubic hair… which I’ll be posting next week. 

Anticipation breeds appreciation, right?