At the side of a huge oak tree, a figure crouched low, half-hidden by the thick roots that coiled like ancient serpents through the earth. Tessa was in the middle of a battle—one she never imagined she would be fighting in her lifetime and it was with her bushy pussy, which wasn't responding to shaving.
Armed with nothing but a crude shaving stick, she worked furiously, her movements quick and impatient. The process was slow—painfully slow—and no matter how much effort she put into it, nothing seemed to change.
"No progress… seriously?" she muttered under her breath, her brows knitting together in frustration.
The stubborn strands refused to yield, clinging fiercely as though they had taken an oath to remain forever. The stick snagged repeatedly, catching on the coarse texture, and each tug only made her more irritated.
At this point, she was convinced that if she left it alone long enough, she could probably braid it into something impressive.
