Pluck, Scoop, and Eat

If someone asked me my favorite past time, I would say picking at my legs.

Hopefully, they wouldn’t not be incredibly disgusted by my answer, but would ask why – so I’d have the luxury of explaining why this is indeed my favorite past time:

There is a satisfaction in plucking hair/ingrown hair that is beyond me. Sometimes I find my self picking and plucking for an hour – seriously Ajna? Every time I pick a hair it is like taking the first scoop of a freshly opened jar of peanut butter. What is it about that first scoop? It feels amazing – the spoon gently pierces the soft flesh of the peanut butter elegantly marking its territory. From then on no other scoop every feels or looks the same. It is all about the virgin scoop.

So, I have an alternative – picking at your legs! Every hair is a virgin! Some are more timid than others (legs crossed, granny panties), some are all talk and no action (prudes in disguise), some are waiting for marriage (that sucks), some love spreading their legs (sluts), some are on the pill (If I were you, I’d leave these ones alone, a little on the emotional side), and some just want to have fun (me!). Regardless of their virgin status, I go for them all – yea, I’m desperate.

I just can’t resist. Once I’ve gotten one and I’m pulling them out and seeing their roots and how deep within my leg they have been hiding – I’m instantaneously satisfied. It’s a plucking hair orgasm.

Someone once told my mom that her food gave them an orgasm in their mouth – I can totally relate. So, I have some unsolicited advice to those orgasm-less people – scoop peanut putter, pluck hair, and go to Indika!