Extremely nude - pubic hair gone

In my 49th year I had my pubic hair go forever. Laser. I had been in two minds before. I was a pioneer to shave consistently, I think, over twenty years ago. Then came a decade and a half when I consistently did not shave. Could not bother. Just trimmed the bikini-line. After I started writing and immersing myself in the sharp end of sexuality, I started again, off and on. On, I wanted to be nude down there, to emphasise, to show availability, to invite, entice. Off, because it is all the rage, why would I look like a little girl and I am never one to follow popular trends. Quite the contrary. So why did I decide to burn my bridges and go nude forever, short of the occasional maintenance that may be required? The essential reasons are named under 'on' before. Added to that was the arousing idea it would be permanent. Nude forever. In the changing rooms of pools and gyms all would see mine as I could not longer hide. Finally, there was the once-off experience of having it done, to have to expose myself intimately to that beauty parlour assistant.
It have me a thrill, as well as it embarrassed me. Two minds, as always. Undressed at the bottom, gynecologist chair, stirrups --- she will have seen it all before, I know, and she was very efficient, as they say. At times I felt her breath as she inspected her work. Would she have smelt me? I felt she must have, or seen the swelling or even seen my wetness. The latter is likely, as she did handle me down there in her justified desire to perform perfectly. Her conversation was vivid, but 'official.' She did not say, ' Madam, I like your labia minor, I do think your juices are excessive, your smell is as different from that of the others as your face is...' Nor did I invite any comments along those lines, the chicken I was, Vanna Vechian, the erotic writer, or not! I was relatively silent, but when I did talk it was about the record benign November weather, the elections, my hairstyle and clothes, holidays etc. The pain is acceptable, but gets to one at some point. The number of hairs is so high! Even if I am not the densest I have ever seen.
Then I was done. When home, I undressed at the mirror and felt like crying. I had lost the capacity to grow hair, mine since 12, 13. I needed my mind to put me straight. The smoothness and all the 'on' reasons were now satisfied. At 49.