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by Veronica Hallowell

Like a bad case of herpes, the Montreal winter keeps coming back despite my continuous prays to the gods of global warming. Nevertheless, the one and only thing I like about Montreal winters is the money I save on waxing. While I am an avid waxer in the bikini season, I tend to be more of a hippie in the winter. This is not say that I have a Rapunzel for a vagina, but I do wear a bit of a coat. As my winter coat was beginning to grow in, however, something an ex-boyfriend once told me has been stuck in my head. He claimed that going completely hairless would increase my sexual pleasure. Although I used to think he had a strange fetish for little girls, as of late I decided that maybe, just maybe, there was some truth to his claim. Now that he is long out of the picture, I decided to give it a try.

You don't have to look far to find a good waxer in Montreal. One of the perks of living in a vain city is that waxing salons are as plentiful here as Starbucks in L.A; they're virtually drive-thru. The plethora of salons means Montreal girls have many options. We can spend a little or we can spend a lot; we can wax a little or we can wax a lot. As an in-grown hair avoidance tactic, I personally prefer to go to more expensive salons with experienced waxers as opposed to beauty school drop-outs.

Prior to this waxing, I had always kept a little bit of pubic hair, partly out of my fear of pain and partly out of a token of my womanhood. I made an appointment with my regular waxer, Svetlana (I trusted her initially because of her name), and told her that I didn't want her to just weed the garden this time; I wanted to uproot it altogether. She asked me if I was sure I wanted to do it, possibly due to the beads of sweat rolling down my forehead. "Yes," I said, feeling faint, as I pulled off my underwear and lay down on her table.

After what seemed like an eternity, Svetlana informed me that I was all done. I looked down at myself in shock. Despite all swelling, I looked like a 10 year old girl. "You have to exfoliate regularly," Svetlana insisted. "Otherwise, you'll get ingrown hairs." After selling me an exfoliator and a useless topical ointment, I left the salon with over $100 less dollars than I came in with and a hell of a lot less hair.

After a day's recovery from the shock and the swelling, I was ready to experiment with my new do. Although, I looked like a kid below the belt, I certainly refused to act like one. I called up my "research assistant" who is always eager to help me with my dirty work, and we immediately got down to business. While sex with my assistant is always pleasurable, being completely hairless actually did make a difference. I was much more sensitive to the touch, which made everything from foreplay to sex itself all the more exhilarating. On top of this, my assistant was more willing than ever to perform oral sex. Whether it was the aesthetic appeal or just the easy access to the clitoris, he spent a lot more time than usual below my waist.

Although the weather is only going to get colder over the next few months, I suggest that the only winter coat you wear this winter has sleeves and a hood. Even if it is not bikini weather, there are definitely a lot more benefits to getting a complete bikini wax than meet the eye. And, ex-boyfriend, if you're reading this, thanks for the advice. You were right!

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