chapter 4

Dawn crept through the curtains as Emily and Alex lay entwined, her hand idly stroking the smooth skin of his groin. The shaving had been her idea post-circumcision—a fetish that made everything feel fresh, exposed. She nuzzled his neck, her voice a sultry whisper. "Before we crash, one more fetish: groin shaving. It's not just clean—it's erotic art."

Alex murmured, half-asleep but attentive. "Explain."

She smiled, fingers tracing the bare area. "Shaving you bare? It's control and vulnerability. That razor gliding over your skin, no hair hiding anything—makes you so sensitive, every touch electric. For me, it's visual too: smooth like marble, ready for my mouth. Benefits? Hygiene skyrockets—no smegma buildup, less sweat, easier access for pleasure. Turns me on knowing I sculpted you, like Mom taught. Veronica always shaved her father Anthony; said it amps up the intimacy, makes blowjobs feel closer to the core."

He shifted, hardening under her touch. "Love how you own it."

Emily's eyes darkened with memory. "But Mom wasn't always into blowjobs. Back when she started with Dad—Anthony—his father, Gerry, soured her on it first. Gerry was a beta cuck through and through: weak, cheating, embezzling from his firm to fund his pathetic affairs. Veronica found out, framed him quick—planted weed in his car to speed the arrest, watched him go down for possession on top of the fraud. She enjoyed it, said it was justice served hot. In prison, he got raped repeatedly; broke him completely. When he got out, Veronica finished it—brutal castration, no mercy. He bled out and died, but she has zero regrets. Proud of her for doing the right thing; that scum didn't deserve mercy."

Alex tensed slightly, but she soothed him with a kiss. "Her experiences with him? Nightmare fuel. Gerry never cleaned his dick—always caked in yucky smegma, that cheesy buildup reeking worse than fish. And small? Pathetic, barely filled her hand. Every time she sucked him off, she spat—couldn't stomach the grime, the bitterness. No swallowing, no joy; just obligation. It turned her off oral for years until Anthony came along—clean, trusting, worth the ritual."

Emily's pride shone through. "I'm so proud of Mom. She took control, protected her future. No beta cucks in our line; only strong ones like you. That's why I shave and circumcise—keeps it pure, no smegma, just you."

To tease, she slid down, her dark lips brushing his smooth tip. "Watch." Her mouth enveloped him gently, tongue swirling, then—playful bite, teeth grazing just enough to spark without pain. Alex gasped, hips bucking as she worked him expertly, her tongue ring adding friction. She built the rhythm, savoring his clean, fishy scent, until he tensed. This time, she swallowed deep, every drop, the salty tang coating her throat.

Pulling back, breath reeking of him, she grinned wickedly. "Like mother, like daughter."

Alex laughed breathlessly, pulling her up. "You're incredible."

Their talk faded into sleep, legacies and loves intertwined.