After-Hours Shave

The moment the last customer left, the tension between us crackled like the low hum of the restaurant lights. Sarah’s eyes locked on mine across the empty dining room, her cheeks flushed from the wine we’d shared during cleanup. I’m Alex, her husband of three years, and tonight we’d decided to stay behind after locking the doors. The place was ours until morning—no staff, no interruptions. Just the scent of garlic and fresh linen, the soft clink of glasses we hadn’t cleared yet, and the wild idea that had been building all week.

“You really want to do this here?” I asked, my voice low as I stepped behind her at the bar. My hands settled on her hips, pulling her back against me so she could feel how hard I already was.

Sarah shivered, but her laugh was breathy, excited. “Yes. I’ve been wet thinking about it since lunch. Lock the front door, babe. I don’t want anyone seeing me spread open like this.”

I flipped the sign to CLOSED and killed most of the lights, leaving only the warm glow above our favorite corner booth. When I returned, she had already kicked off her heels and was hiking up her black pencil skirt. The sight of her smooth, freshly shaved pussy—something she’d done just for tonight—made my cock twitch hard against my zipper. No hair, just soft, glistening skin that begged to be touched.

“Fuck, look at you,” I whispered, dropping to one knee right there on the tiled floor. “So smooth… I can see every fold, every little drop.”

She bit her lip, spreading her legs wider on the leather seat. “I used the new razor this morning. Felt so naked afterwards. Touch it, Alex. Tell me how it feels.”

My fingers traced her outer lips first, slow and reverent. The skin was silky, warm, completely bare. Her clit peeked out, swollen and shiny. I circled it gently with my thumb, watching her hips jerk. A soft moan escaped her as I dipped one finger between her folds, feeling how drenched she was.

“It’s perfect,” I murmured, leaning in to kiss the inside of her thigh. “So slick. I can smell how turned on you are.” My breath ghosted over her exposed pussy, making her tremble. I pressed my lips to her clit, sucking lightly, then licked a long, slow stripe from her entrance up to that bare mound. The lack of hair made every sensation sharper—her skin tasted sweeter, cleaner.

Sarah’s hand tangled in my hair. “Oh god… keep going. Lick my shaved pussy like that. It feels so dirty and good at the same time.”

I stood up, my cock straining painfully now. She reached for my belt, freeing me with eager fingers. “I need you inside me. Right here on the table.”

We moved to the sturdy wooden prep table in the back, the one we used for plating. I lifted her onto it, skirt bunched around her waist, blouse half-unbuttoned so her tits spilled out. She lay back, legs hooked over my shoulders, completely open. Her shaved pussy glistened under the dim light, pink and inviting.

I rubbed the head of my cock along her slit, coating myself in her wetness. “You’re dripping everywhere. This bare little cunt is going to take every inch.”

“Yes,” she gasped, eyes half-lidded with lust. “Fill me up slow. I want to feel everything.”

I pushed in inch by inch, groaning at how tight and hot she felt. Without any hair, the view was obscene—my thick cock stretching her smooth lips, disappearing into her slick heat. We moved together unhurriedly, my hands roaming her body, pausing to pinch her nipples, then sliding down to rub her clit in lazy circles. Each thrust made wet sounds echo in the quiet restaurant.

“Harder now,” she begged after a while, her voice breaking. “Fuck my shaved pussy harder, Alex. I’m so close.”

I gripped her hips and picked up the pace, pounding deep. Her tits bounced with every stroke. She reached down to spread herself wider, fingers brushing where we joined, feeling my shaft slide in and out of her bare slit. The sight pushed me closer to the edge.

“Come for me,” I growled softly. “Let me feel this smooth cunt squeeze my cock.”

Sarah arched, crying out as her orgasm hit. Her walls fluttered around me, milking hard. I kept thrusting through it, then pulled out at the last second, stroking myself over her. Thick ropes of cum painted her shaved mound and clit, dripping down her folds in messy streaks. She looked stunning—marked, glistening, utterly satisfied.

We stayed like that for a minute, breathing hard, my forehead pressed to hers. Then she started laughing, light and giddy, wiping a stray bit of cum from her thigh.

“Next time we try this at home with the lights on,” she said, still chuckling. “I want to watch you stare at my shaved pussy even longer.”

I grinned, helping her sit up, kissing her softly. “Deal. But I’m never forgetting how you looked on this table.”

The restaurant felt warmer now, our secret hanging sweetly in the air as we straightened our clothes, already planning the next adventure.