Author's note: While this story is entirely fictitious and no characters bear any relationship to any real person, its setting is factual. Queenstown, New Zealand, is recognized as the party capital of New Zealand on New Year's eve; fireworks are let off at midnight on a barge on the lake, and the skirts worn by the girls are the shortest that I have had the good fortune to observe, although I am uncertain of what is worn beneath. While I cannot guarantee that you'll experience the type of action there which I have described in the story, I'm sure it could be fun trying. Enjoy.
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December 31st; the end of another year, beginning of a new year. New Year, new life, well, let's hope so. The past year had been pretty shitty. My long-term boyfriend left me a couple of months ago for some blonde bimbo who crooked her little finger at him; I got fired from my job a few weeks ago and was living on my meager savings, sharing a room in a hostel with Kirsty for a few nights in the party capital of New Zealand -- Queenstown. It's a place of amazing scenery, happy people, high cost of living and short, short skirts. Then there was me: staid, unfashionable, miserable, alone.
I'd met Kirsty on the flight from LAX to Auckland, one of those fateful meetings in the random game of air travel, then we sat together again from there to Queenstown. We hit it off right from the start despite, or maybe because of, our differences. She was a street-wise solo-by-choice playgirl from LA while I was a naive, hard-working small town girl from the mid-west. She was sexually experienced with many men while I had only the experiences with my one and only ex to call upon. The differences were obvious when we changed out of our northern hemisphere winter outfits into our summer clothes in Auckland airport. I wore a simple cotton dress reaching from neck to knee while she wore a very low cut top over a pair of shorts that seemed to be painted on.
Kirsty was about my size so on New Year's eve she loaned me one of her short dresses and suggested we go to the lakefront and hang out, pick up some guys, watch the fireworks and try to get laid, not necessarily in that order. I tried on the dress and paraded in front of Kirsty.
"I can't wear this!" I announced in no uncertain manner, "It hardly covers my butt. Look," I pointed to the hemline which ended a fraction of an inch below my ass cheeks, "It's only about a quarter of an inch decent. If I bend over even the slightest everyone will see my panties. "
"Well, the best way to prevent that is to not wear any," replied Kirsty with a laugh.
"Yeah, so then they'd see my hairy pussy and ass," I replied sarcastically.
"And?"
"And then they'd think I was a slut."
"Well, what's wrong with that It's new year, party time, so let them think that then when they proposition you you'll be able to prove it, one way or the other, your choice. Time to live a little, girl. You're only 20 once."
"You mean you'd let a guy pick you up just because he thought you were an easy lay because your hemline is too high to be decent?" I asked incredulously.
"Why not?"
I didn't have a ready answer.
"Anyway," continued Kirsty after noting my silence, "We can always fix the hairy part. Do you want me to shave your pussy like mine?"
As she said that she flipped her short skirt up then pulled her thong down to reveal her naked, shaved pussy, with a small patch of trimmed hair over her pubic bone.
"Like it?" she asked.
I did. My pussy flooded at the thought of parading my almost bare naked pussy around town 'hidden' only by the ultra-short dress. Suddenly I felt horny, a feeling which overcame all scruples. Whatever else happened tonight, I wanted to be fucked.
"Yes, very much. Can you please shave mine like that now?"
"Of course. Take your dress off and I'll do it now. I'll just collect my hair trimming gear and be in your room in a minute."
I went to my room and removed my borrowed dress, then lay on the bed. Kirsty arrived a couple of minutes later with her shaving gear and a sheet of plastic.
"Lift up," she ordered.
I lifted my hips and she slipped the plastic under my ass.
"Right, so how much do you want left?"
"Just a little, like yours. Can you make it into a heart shape please?"
"Yeah, no probs. I'll use the clippers first then shave the short hair. Just lie there and relax; you'll have a beautiful looking pussy in almost no time."
I lay there and relaxed, hearing and feeling the warm buzz of the clippers as they removed the fleece from my mound. I spread my legs on request and Kirsty carefully trimmed the hair on my pussy lips, the vibrations and warmth, and the whole sexiness of this operation, making my juices flow copiously.
"Oh wow, are you ever wet!" commented Kirsty as she wiped away the excess lubrication.
It seemed to be only a few minutes until she fitted a new blade to her razor, then started shaving me closely, pulling the skin to cause the hairs to stand up as she expertly removed them. The feeling of her fingers and the gentle friction of the blade soon had me feeling soooo sexy.