Page 22 of The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles
“Rosie? You in there?” Delaney called out, knocking this time.
“Don’t come in here,” I yelled back.
“Rosie, I have some cream for you to put on your vagina; it should help with the pain.”
I put my shorts on quickly and then went to the door. I whipped it open and gave Delaney my best death glare.
“You have cream to help with the pain?” Anger seeped out of me, turning me into a hysterical heroine. I motioned jaggedly at my nether regions, “Do you happen to have any cream to help with my newly paved red brick road that leads to the wizard of bleached white assholes?”
Delaney’s mouth dropped open as she glanced at my crotch.
“You bleached your asshole?”
“Yeah, and it looks like fucking Saturn in the middle of a red-colored meteor shower. What the hell, Delaney?”
A small smile tried to peek past her lips but she was wise enough to tamp it down before I slapped it right off her face.
“I never told you to bleach your asshole.”
“You got your asshole bleached?” Henry asked as he walked by, stopping mid-stride when he heard bleach and asshole in the same sentence.
“I didn’t want to. Marta made me.”
“Who’s Marta?”
“The she-devil who did this to me,” I stated while pulling my shorts down just enough to show some of the red bumps.
“Oh my God,” Delaney said while Henry cringed in the background and took off for his room, clearly knowing when he wasn’t needed. “You must have had an allergic reaction to the wax.”
“You think?” It felt like lava was erupting out of my belly button and burning my skin on its way down. “What do I do?”
“Sit on ice?” Delaney shrugged.Actually, that might help, but I wouldn’t give her credit for that answer.
I pointed at her before closing my door and said, “I don’t like you right now.”
“Fair enough,” she said through the wood. “You’ll thank me in a couple of days . . .”
“That’s if I don’t murder you in your sleep.”
I walked to my bed and plugged in my phone. Thank her.Was she serious?I nearly lost every sexual organ from my body today and I was supposed to thank her? Pretty sure Marta almost ripped out my uterus at one point, so there was no way I would be thanking Delaney.
I grabbed my journal and started writing.
June 3, 2018
Don’t trust anyone named Marta, especially if they wear knee-high stockings and spread your legs as if it’s second nature. If only she accidently got a little wax on that unibrow of hers that seemed to have a mind of its own.
Brazilian wax. More likefuck you in the asswax because that’s what it felt like. Not that I would know, but I assumed that’s what it felt like. There was no way what happened to me was legal, and there’s a reason they keep those rooms dark and full of music, because they don’t want you to really get a good look at the technicians or hear what they’re saying. It’s all a conspiracy. There’s probably some lab in the back where they turn pubic hair into some kind of black market drug. It’s the only explanation I can come up with as to why these ladies take pride in ripping sensitive hair off a woman.Where’s the solidarity?
I understand you’re supposed to present a pretty muffin to your man, but is a Brazilian really necessary? Why isn’t a trim sufficient?
Note to self: see what it takes to become a wax technician. Payback is a bitch, Marta, and I’m coming after you.
Iset my notebook to the side and got under my covers just as I received a text.
Henry.
Henry:Sorry about your red brick road, love. At least you have the great and powerful asshole sitting between your two cheeks, so that’s something to be proud of. There’s no place like between your legs. There’s no place like between your legs, said while clicking your pussy lips together.
