Mr. Blue...my husband and I once thought it would be erotic for him to shave my legs. *sigh* "Erotic," it was not. "Stressful," it was. He put so much effort into not cutting me and I put so much effort into being a frozen statue and not moving - because I knew the man would immediately slit his throat if he accidentally cut me - that it didn't end up being the erotic experience we'd hoped for.
I once went through this incredibly stupid phase of cutting my legs just about every time I shaved them and he threatened to take my razor away from me and do it himself if I continued in that manner. Thankfully, whatever curse that had been put upon me wore off and I stopped that.
I'd never in a million years ever shave his face. No way. No how. I've watched him do it, and he whips that razor around in multiple directions while carrying on a conversation but there's no way I'd do it. He's only cut himself shaving maybe a couple of times in all the decades that I've known him, but I know damned well that the second I so much as picked up a razor...he'd begin to spout blood.
Some things just seem more erotic than they actually turn out to be.
(Except for having sex on the fluffy pink rug in his mother's bathroom. That actually did turn out to be the total whiz bang experience we thought it would be. However, we were much younger then....)
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Some days, it's not even worth chewing through the restraints.
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