“What I really like is being shaved…”
I assumed he didn’t mean he enjoyed help with his chin stubble. I haven’t done an interactive photo shoot, and I haven’t done anything that was exceedingly explicit. But hey, what the fuck. I was 9 days away from 43 years old and adding another skeleton to my jammed-like-Mecca-during-Hajj closet o’skeletons seemed the right thing to do.
“OK, but I can’t kneel in front of you, My knees will not tolerate it. How’s about you get on that stool and I sit on this chair?”
Stool, chair, towel, shaving cream, disposable razor…check check checkity check yo self before you wreck yo self and we were off. As was his hair.
It was less weird than I thought it would be.
“I’m gonna leave in the spookly monster vampirewolfcreature lenses though. Mostly because I like them but also because Its a pain to take them out.”
“They look great, leave ‘em in!”
True to his prediction, shaving foam and well-placed tugs generated tumescence, and I managed to get most of the hair off of his balls fairly easily.
Ever have those moments where you wonder how the you of 25 years ago would react to an excerpt from your future life? And know You’d just be all…”Well, how the fuck does THAT happen?!?”