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Veet man


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I saw this on another site and busted out laughing :rofl-lol::rofl-lol:

After having been told my danglers looked an elderly rastafarian, I decided to take the plunge and buy some of this as previous shaving attempts had only been mildly succeful 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 missus's birthday as a bit of a treat.
I ordered it well in advance and working in the North sea I considered myself a bit above some of the characters writing the previous reviews and them off as soft offoce types..oh my fellow sufferers haw wrong I was. I waited untill the other half was tucked up in bedand 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.
I didn't have long to wait. At first there was a gentle warrmth 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 cieling with my head.
Religion hadn't featured much in my life untill that night but I suddenly became willing to convert to any religion to stop the violent burning around the 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 and only and only succeeded in blocking the plughole 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 wasd not realy possible and I crawled the final yard to the fridge in the hope of some form of cold relief. I yanked the freezer drawer draw out and found a tub of ice cream, tore the lid off and postioned 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 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 sprouts and tore it open trying to be quite as I did so.
I took a handful of them 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 the 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 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 ease the pain
The only solution my pain crazed mind could come up with was to gently ease one of the spouts where no veg had gone before, coming fromthe kitchen the other half chose that moment to come and investigate and was greeted by the sight of me, arse in air, strawberry ice cream dripping from my bell end pushing a a sprout up my arse while muttering, "Ooooh that feels good"
Understanding 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 sprout being ejected at quite some speed in her direction.I can understand that having a sprout farted at 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 status..So to sum up it up, Veet removes hair, dignity and self respect...
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