Anyway, I complained to Mom about it. Uncle Bob was sitting there too, at the kitchen table, eating breakfast.“Just yank it,” he suggested, smilin....My mother looked at him like he had just kicked a puppy, and slapped his shoulder.“That’s awful!” she scolded.“I was kidding,” he said. He got up and got his keys from the basket he kept them in. The key ring had some fingernail clippers on it. “C’mere, sweet thing,” he said, motioning towards me.“No way,” I said, backing away.“I’m just going to. I looked down at my own pussy, still covered by its original mound of pubic hair. One of my friends told me that it’s supposed to help with sex. I looked around at the girls showering, each one I saw with a shaved twat I immediately thought of differently, more mature, more of a woman, sexier… it meant she must’ve had sex. I tried imagining what sex must be like. I’d taken a sexual education class, but that’s pretty much just an anatomy lesson that labels the parts. What I wanted to know was. More

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