Bush Confidence
I had no idea what she looked like and I was very intimidated by her. I had always been told that no one should ever touch this sacred place, not even me. Fearing that I would touch myself by accident, I took extra care when I showered or changed my panties. What was this mysterious place that could elicit such tingly sensations? It wasn’t until I was in my late teens that I even took a peek. I laid back on my bed, with a mirror clasped tightly in my hand. I saw her in all her glory. She was just like I imagined. Neat and pretty. But I quickly put away the mirror. I felt shy looking at her. Like I was filthy for doing so. I touch her now (with permission from Mistress, of course). I began going commando so she could get fresh air. Lately, I’ve been letting her bush grow uncontrollably. I’m a huge fan of waxing. Shaving was never my favorite. I have never publicly admitted that it is presently a jungle down there. At first, I thought how very unladylike this was. But I’m actually very
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