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Put yourself in my shoes.

You're having the evening of your life. You are the social belle of the ball. Every conversation is going your way, every joke is hitting the spot, every drink tastes sweeter than the last. You are having one of those rare evenings of nonstop hijinks and merriment.

You're navigating your way through the party and as it so happens, your eye catches that of a beautiful girl. I mean she is as lovely as they come. Sweeter than a juniper blossom, more elegant than a white rose on the first day of spring. The spark is instantaneous, you sense that visceral connection and you make your way over to her; it feels as though you are walking on a dream, floating through space without a care or worry.

As chance would have it... you hit it off.

The two of you are talking, laughing, being gay and jaunty. The liquor is running through you like wildfire and suddenly, out of nowhere, your courage overtakes you and you plant that sweet first kiss upon her welcoming lips. FASTER THAN YOU KNOW IT... the passion overtakes you both, like a flash of lighting you find yourself pants-off in the laundry room with her tongue in your ear and her hand moving towards your crotch.

YOU REALIZE TO YOURSELF: "Holy horsefeathers, I haven't shaved my pubic region in a fortnight!"
 You don't want your newly found tequila filled jezebel to reach down your pants and end up with a fistful of man bush!
You think quickly because you are a true renaissance man... "I must quickly retire to the restroom, m'lady.. I'd like to freshen up for our approaching libations." With a smile you dash to the bathroom.

You didn't bring your own razor of course, but there's only one real option now anyway. Your hand sweeps aside the shower curtain, and your eye catches sight of the party-host's personal shaving utensil. A lesser man would cringe at  the lack of hygiene, and bushel of man sprouts emanating from the device, but you are a polymath, a libertine, a galant gent! You trim your pubes down in the most exquisite manner.. you are an artist working on his masterpiece, each hair floats gently off of your body as if it were a lightning bug whisping through the evening woods on a hot august night... your pubes land gracefully in the beckoning toilet and your evening is saved, you can now retire to your lady.

Although you wake up the next morning to the thundering drolls from your ladies log sawing, snoring nose.. the condom still hanging off your member, and your breath tasting of hot flem, jim beam and dollar pizza... you know that you owned the night, you were a master of your domain, just as I have been... you are man in his truest form.
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