Nice and Clean
Cullen gives Trevelyan a shave. Up to you to guess where.
Based on this meme, which inspired a smutty snippet exchange with botticella89. Using her lovely Katja Trevelyan.
"Hold still, love."
Katja nods, trying not to flinch. The first part was positively relaxing, pleasant even. It was unusual having foam smeared onto her, there of all places. The fragrant lather, however feels refreshing, and the sight holds a certain comic appeal.
Now she's nervous, watching the slim blade close in on where she's most sensitive. And vulnerable. Shiny and devastatingly sharp, it reflects the evening sun a second before reaching its destination. She winces, squeezing her eyes shut when it touches upon her frothy mound.
Cullen shushes her, placing a reassuring hand on her hip. Then there's movement, and she gawks in surprise when there's no pain, not even discomfort. A tingle follows the blade's trail down her centre- far from unpleasant. On the contrary.
As she watches Cullen's meticulous efforts a flush creeps up her neck, and despite the bath chambers's slight chill she's suddenly growing warm. And wet.
Gradually the foam disappears, leaving smooth, naked skin in its wake. As if the knife's moist, smooth glide wasn't enough- the sight of herself so bald is rather… appealing.
When all hair is gone from the top he pats her thigh. "Put your foot on the bath there and turn your knee out."
She obliges, lifting her left leg up as he said. "Like this?"
"Yes." The throaty note in his voice isn't lost on her.
Cullen takes a deep breath before grabbing the small brush to spread more foam on her now-exposed labia. Katja can't help a sigh when the creamy cool caresses her most sensitive skin.
Stroke after slow stroke, and her outer fold emerges hairless. And sensitive. Katja looks down at Cullen. He seems all concentrated- despite her being spread wide open in front of his face, with her swollen little nub sticking out at him like a ripe, juicy cherry.
He clears his throat before speaking. "Now change." She does, hums as he lathers her up once more. When the blade completes its final few strokes she's no longer concerned with hiding her titillation.
Each careful tilt of his yet-steady hand is accompanied by a heavy rise and fall of her chest. Then it's done, and she's free of hair. Their eyes meet. Cullen's reflect the same salacious lust that is surging through her body, cumulating in a heavy, wet throb between her legs.
He mumbles something and brings a soaked sponge to her centre, removing any remaining suds. Katja shivers as the squishy sogginess glides across her - has she always been this sensitive?
Instead of standing he up looks at her, still crouched between her legs. A familiar smirk plays around his lips when he croaks, "All done."
She cocks an eyebrow. "Good work, Commander. Would you like a little treat now?"
The words have barely left her lips when she is pushed against the nearby wall. Any pain is immediately remedied by the impact of Cullen's searing lips on her bald quim.
One shaky leg finds hold on a broad shoulder, fingers claw at beloved curls, and his tongue starts fucking her like his eyes have been all along.
Katja's moan is throaty, salacious, a testament to how wet she's been for him ever since he started shaving her. She squirms, gropes, bucks into his face.
Cullen's eager mouth finds her plump labia, licking up and down their engorged length. Fingers dig into her hips, her arse as he works away, slurping in delight.
Katja is writhing, panting, helpless against the utter intensity of his mouth on her. Desperate, needy half-words pour from her as he drinks her up; lapping at a fold, dipping inside for but a few thrusts, humming, enjoying the tasty delicacy.
He never even needs to use his fingers. As soon as he croaks her name, muffled by her engorged bud between his lips, she comes; turning limp, melting into Cullen's face, pleasure pouring from her, warm and tangy. Groaning along with her, he drinks her up, smacking his lips as he savours the juice he's drawn from her.
Katja is still quivering with aftershocks when he's up and inside her, filling her in one slick stroke. The wicked scratch of coarse hair against bare skin is new, exciting, makes her want more, fast.
Her legs fit snugly around his waist, and she slaps that delicious bottom of his, urging him on, crying out for him to fuck her, oh please.
And has Cullen ever obliged. Hammering into her with insane ferocity, brushing against the spot that makes her clench at him, he's sweating, grunting like an animal.
Neither of them is going to last much longer, but it doesn't matter. They don't need words to know there'll be more.
As Cullen's teeth sink into her shoulder, sweet pain surges through her and she gives up holding back. Katja's index finger draws three, four heated circles around her bundle before she begins to tremble, quiver, quake. Sharp nails leave a flaming red trail on Cullen's back as she roars out her pleasure. Cullen's hips stutter as she takes him with her, and he manages a few more sharp thrusts before his head rolls back and he spills inside her, hot and sticky.
The next thing Katja knows is she's holding onto her commander's neck as he sets her down on their bed.
He plops down beside her, the mattress dipping with his sluggish weight. Their fingers intertwine as they're still catching their breath in between sighs and giddy chuckles.
"So," Katja slurs, "how often will we have to repeat this procedure?"
"I'm afraid, Inquisitor," even under the grave seriousness she hears the smirk in his voice, "this will have to become a rather regular affair."
Her giggles ring shrill as his lips assault her once more, and they spend the evening exploring her new hairlessness in more detail.