My palm trembled as it went close to my vulva. I was worried that I would cut my tender skin down there. I knew I needed help.I opened the door and looked for my father. He was out on the lawn cutting wooden logs for the fire. He worked hard, and he looked strong as a result. He tied his tunic around his waist, and he was in his vest.It was not new to me. But the conversations about my privates earlier had affected me perhaps. I looked at his muscles and admired him. He had strong arms and a broad chest. I realized that he was handsome too.I wondered how girls would have admired him when he was young. They would have dreamt of him as their partner just as I was doing then. I then suddenly realized my mistake, and I reproved myself. Then I took a minute to gather myself and called him. He entered the cottage.Father – Tell me, dear. What is it?I showed him the razor and looked at him shyly.Me – I don’t know how to use it. Would you teach me?Father – Oh, Hmm… How can I teach you. “Oh, shit,” I mumbled to myself, and reached down to pull my shorts up, smooth my shirt down, and rinse my hand off, all in about five seconds! As I mentioned, I had forgotten that I had a house guest. I could hear the soft padding of her feet as they receded down the hall and I was frantically trying to decide a plan of action. I was panicky, not knowing if she had seen me, or not. I mentally shrugged and decided that, either way, I had no way out. I couldn’t just ask her, so how could I find out? I went downstairs and she was sitting at the table, intently working at a bowl of cereal, still dressed in her overnight sleep tee. Her eyes stayed downcast as I sat down across from her and waited for her to say something. The silence was thick enough to cut with a dull butter knife, and finally I said, “Uh… Honey?” She still didn’t look up, but I could see her face was flushed. I reached over and touched her hand lightly. She didn’t draw back, but I distinctly heard a quick intake of.
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