My mom always says that you should never count the chapatis you eat, and the blessings you receive. I took the liberty of adding orgasms to that list. Being in an all-girls boarding school always made me inquisitive about men. What they might be doing in their free time, what they might smell like after […]
My mom always says that you should never count the chapatis you eat, and the blessings you receive. I took the liberty of adding orgasms to that list. Being in an all-girls boarding school always made me inquisitive about men. What they might be doing in their free time, what they might smell like after the PE period, what they discuss in the locker room, and who I was going to lose my virginity to in the upcoming holidays. Straight out of a Judy Blume book, right? Just when fantasising about the men-next-door (literally) wasn’t enough, Abhay Deol, Jason Momoa and Hugh Jackman waltzed into my life, making me crave my hairy Prince Charming. Now, my ‘ideal’ guy had to have a great jawline (so defined he could open a beer with it), a heavy stubble, or a long wizard-like beard (yes, I would accept either) and some chest hair. Basically, Mutt from Schitt’s Creek. Just the thought of a guy with a prickly stubble and a man rug, gave me the chills. Rub some glitter on to that, and viola! I’m sold. Now the question remained — Will I like hair down there, as much as I like it up here?
And the answer is, hell yes. There’s no better feeling than a man giving his raw, unapologetic self to me, looking like a real man who has more important ball bag. He is proud of what he’s been given. How sexy is that? Also, it gives me the much-needed assurance that I don’t need to try too hard and get a bikini wax every 20 days, to ‘get ready’ to sleep with someone. It’s painful, costly, makes my skin weird, and let’s not forget about the pressure to impress that it puts on me. Yass girl, he’s a real man, and not a plastic doll. BRB, booking tickets to Hairyland. I once matched with a ‘Mutt of Andheri West’ and boy oh boy, did we have the best sex of our lives. I can still recall brushing my hands up and down his au naturel stubble, pecks, and his pubic bush. The sex felt so real, so connected. While many men shave down there just to feel, let’s say, bigger, it’s really the hair that turns most women on. Give me a rug over a satin chest any day.
My best friend, on the other hand, thinks hair is gross. She says, “Body hair is fine, but pubes are best shaven.” It’s somewhat akin to getting a piercing that you think looks terrible, but your best friend thinks looks gorgeous on you. While she thinks of hair down there as embarrassing or disgusting, I believe it makes me more confident. I’d rather be Queen B in the bedroom (or anywhere else *wink*) than worry about his ongoing thoughts.
Adding to this, pubic hair prevents vaginal infections, and your skin from chafing during sex. You have more chances of getting an STI when you’re shaved. All you have to do is find a partner who will appreciate a full bush, and find it sexy. Easy, no? Not really. Many men judged me for my preferences but then again, if they’re not happy with your Amazon, they can dine elsewhere. I am now 100 per cent convinced that hairy men can keep you toasty from foreplay to climax, and are scientifically proven to last like a Duracell battery. Also, they are smoking hot. So, if you’re a part of the anti-body hair clan, consider moving to the other side, and maybe you’ll change your mind? A hairless torso may look great on Instagram but ask any girl, it’s the furry chests that we like to put our heads on after a rough Monday, or after rounds of hot, wild sex. After all, I’m just a girl, waiting for a scruffy face to wake me up with a warm hug and a sloppy kiss, and ask me, “Do you want your pancakes before or after sex?”