So for nearly thirty years I’ve been sporting a brozillian. It’s got a name now, actually its more of racing stripe (if that’s still a common term), well more of a runway as its the same width as my shaft. If anyone’s interested it seems I pass the toilet roll test as I’m far too wide to fit (and a bit longer, for the stats lovers out there).
I must admit it’s been about ten years since I’ve been in a gym changing room and I used to get the odd look and the occasional chat-up, but the brozillian appears to be becoming more commonplace.
For my first date with DW I’d had a back wax, the beautician who was doing it offered to do the sack and crack, but I had to say no. One, I’d already sorted that out, and two while I was lying on the table her dress/gown/uniform thing kept on popping open just in front of her plain white knickers so I was feeling horny anyway and the prospect of me standing to attention just as she would have lathered my balls with hot wax just didn’t appeal.
One thing that DW finds amusing is that she shaves from the neck down, whereas I shave from the top of my head down.