This time it's front AND back. You'd think i had learned with the shaving my ass shit. But alas, i didn't. And I'm here to make sure you don't repeat my ghastly mistake.
After having been told my danglies looked like an elderly rastafarian, I decided to take the plunge and buy some of this stuff, as previous shaving attempts had only been mildly succesful and I nearly put my back out trying to reach the more difficult bits. Being a bit of a romantic I thought I would do the deed on the wife's birthday, just as a bit of a treat.
I ordered it well in advance, and working in the medical field, I read anpit and considered myself a bit above some of the sissies writing the product reviews. and wrote them off as soft office types...oh, my fellow sufferers, how wrong I was.
I waited until my better half was tucked in bed, and after giving some vague hints about a "special surprise", I went down to the bathroom. Initially all went well and I applied the gel and stood waiting for something to happen. And boy...I didn't have long to wait.
At first there was a gentle warmth, which in a matter of seconds, was replaced by an intense burning and a feeling I can only describe as like being given a barbed wire wedgie by two people intent on hitting the ceiling with my head. Religion hadn't featured much in my life until that point, but I suddenly became willing to convert to any religion, just to stop the violent burning around my turd tunnel, and what seemed like the destruction of the meat and two veg.
Struggling to not bite through my bottom lip I tried to wash the gel off in the sink, but only succeeded in blocking the drain hole with a mat of hair. Through the haze of tears I struggled out of the bathroom, across the hall into the kitchen. By this time walking was not really possible, and I crawled the final yard to the fridge in hope of finding some form of cold relief. I yanked the freezer drawer out and found a tub of ice cream, tore the lid of and positioned it under me. The relief was fantastic, but only temporary as it melted fairly quickly and the fiery stabbing soon returned .
Due to the shape of the ice cream tub I hadn't managed to give the starfish any treatment and I groped around in the drawer for something else, as I was sure my vision was going to fail fairly soon. I grabbed a bag of what I later found out was frozen broccoli, and tore it open, trying to be quiet as I did so.I took a handful of the broccoli and tried in vain to clench some between the cheeks of my arse. This was not doing the trick as some of the gel had found it's way up my chutney channel, and it felt like the space shuttle was running it's engines behind me.
This was probably and hopefully the only time in my life I was going to wish there was a gay snowman in the kitchen, which should give you some idea of the depths I was willing to sink to in order to ease the pain. The only solution my pain-crazed mind could come up with was to gently ease one of the broccoli florets where no veg had gone before.
Unfortunately, alerted by the strange grunts coming from the kitchen the other half chose that moment to come and investigate and was greeted by the sight of me, ass in the air, strawberry ice cream dripping from my bell end, pushing a broccoli floret up my ass, all while muttering..." Ooooh that feels good ". Understandably this was a shock to her and she let out a scream and as I hadn't heard her come in, it caused an involutary spasm of shock in myself, which resulted in the floret being ejected at quite some speed in her direction. I can understand that having a broccoli floret farted against your leg at 11 at night in the kitchen probably wasn't the special surprise she was expecting and having to explain to the kids the next day what the strange hollow in the ice cream was didn't improve my demeanor. ...So to sum it up, nair removes hair, dignity and self respect...
After having been told my danglies looked like an elderly rastafarian, I decided to take the plunge and buy some of this stuff, as previous shaving attempts had only been mildly succesful and I nearly put my back out trying to reach the more difficult bits. Being a bit of a romantic I thought I would do the deed on the wife's birthday, just as a bit of a treat.
I ordered it well in advance, and working in the medical field, I read anpit and considered myself a bit above some of the sissies writing the product reviews. and wrote them off as soft office types...oh, my fellow sufferers, how wrong I was.
I waited until my better half was tucked in bed, and after giving some vague hints about a "special surprise", I went down to the bathroom. Initially all went well and I applied the gel and stood waiting for something to happen. And boy...I didn't have long to wait.
At first there was a gentle warmth, which in a matter of seconds, was replaced by an intense burning and a feeling I can only describe as like being given a barbed wire wedgie by two people intent on hitting the ceiling with my head. Religion hadn't featured much in my life until that point, but I suddenly became willing to convert to any religion, just to stop the violent burning around my turd tunnel, and what seemed like the destruction of the meat and two veg.
Struggling to not bite through my bottom lip I tried to wash the gel off in the sink, but only succeeded in blocking the drain hole with a mat of hair. Through the haze of tears I struggled out of the bathroom, across the hall into the kitchen. By this time walking was not really possible, and I crawled the final yard to the fridge in hope of finding some form of cold relief. I yanked the freezer drawer out and found a tub of ice cream, tore the lid of and positioned it under me. The relief was fantastic, but only temporary as it melted fairly quickly and the fiery stabbing soon returned .
Due to the shape of the ice cream tub I hadn't managed to give the starfish any treatment and I groped around in the drawer for something else, as I was sure my vision was going to fail fairly soon. I grabbed a bag of what I later found out was frozen broccoli, and tore it open, trying to be quiet as I did so.I took a handful of the broccoli and tried in vain to clench some between the cheeks of my arse. This was not doing the trick as some of the gel had found it's way up my chutney channel, and it felt like the space shuttle was running it's engines behind me.
This was probably and hopefully the only time in my life I was going to wish there was a gay snowman in the kitchen, which should give you some idea of the depths I was willing to sink to in order to ease the pain. The only solution my pain-crazed mind could come up with was to gently ease one of the broccoli florets where no veg had gone before.
Unfortunately, alerted by the strange grunts coming from the kitchen the other half chose that moment to come and investigate and was greeted by the sight of me, ass in the air, strawberry ice cream dripping from my bell end, pushing a broccoli floret up my ass, all while muttering..." Ooooh that feels good ". Understandably this was a shock to her and she let out a scream and as I hadn't heard her come in, it caused an involutary spasm of shock in myself, which resulted in the floret being ejected at quite some speed in her direction. I can understand that having a broccoli floret farted against your leg at 11 at night in the kitchen probably wasn't the special surprise she was expecting and having to explain to the kids the next day what the strange hollow in the ice cream was didn't improve my demeanor. ...So to sum it up, nair removes hair, dignity and self respect...
