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Interlude 2 – Fetishes – Shaving Cream
Interlude 2 – Fetishes – Shaving Cream

For someone who has used a non-electric razor maybe a handful of times in his (long) life, I sure have gone through a lot of cans of shaving cream!

I don’t know which came first, my smoking fetish or shaving cream fetish. (For smoking fetish, see Interludes 1 post.) They are similar, in that they both involve large quantities of white fluids being ejected from a small opening. Of course, there are more differences than similarities, but you know the ad men knew of the similarities as well. Who can forget the sexy blonde icon Farrah “sitting” on the seemingly beanbag-chair-sized dollop of Noxema shaving cream, while she sang in an equally sexy bedroom voice, “You get … great balls of comfort … you get … great balls of comfort … you get … great balls of comfort with Noxema!” And in another scene she lovingly applies a whole handful (much more than would actually be needed) to her (husband’s? boyfriend’s? lover’s?) face. And who didn’t have a crush on Farrah? And/or want to BE Farrah? Yes to both, for me, in the young years of my questioning and cross-dressing.

My father did use a handheld bladed razor with refill cartridges to shave, so shaving cream was around the house since I was young. His shaving cream of choice was Barbasol, since it was affordable and effective. Thus, that is the brand I had handy to experiment with, before having any money of my own, or any way to get places on my own (before I had a bicycle), and so forth. Even pre-puberty, there was something fascinating about shaving cream. It was so much bigger OUTSIDE of the can that it was inside of the can. If you pressed the button with nothing near the nozzle, it came out in a long skinny snake, and that snake kind of just piled up like spaghetti, and dried up rather quickly. But if you squirted it right onto the palm of your hand, from close by, it blossomed into a big white BALL of creamy goodness! Almost like a BASEBALL of thick, heavy, gloppy … STUFF, like nothing else it the world, really. It wasn’t exactly soap, since you couldn’t really wash your hands with it. It wasn’t really shampoo, since you couldn’t really wash your hair with it (and when you TRIED to wash your hair with it, and you finally got it all rinsed out, it left you hair feeling “weird” afterwards … I didn’t know what the term stripped” meant back then.) And the sound it made coming out, a “whooshing” sound, then when the can was just about empty, a sad “sputtering” bahis siteleri sound, and air bubbles in the wad of goop you were trying to build. All in all it was magical stuff, but I had to be careful not to use too much, because I knew my father used it to shave, and it wasn’t for playing around with.

Fast forward ten or more years to my later teens. Puberty was a thing of the past, lusts were in full force. I was reading nudie mags, wishing for dates with girls, had bought my first wig out of a catalog received from writing off to an address found in the back of one of my mother’s “ladies’ magazines” (and paid with it with a check from my own checking account, funded by my allowance from doing chores, birthday money, Christmas money, etc.) I had it well-hidden and rarely got to wear it (or cross-dress – in my mother’s dirty clothes from the hamper, since I had no female clothes of my own, so as to not raise any concerns). But I had a hand-me-down car, and summer jobs, and pocket money. Some of the pocket money went for the nudie mags, some went for other things – but some went for shaving cream.

Shaving cream was the perfect friend for “temporary” cross-dressing. Alone when I got home after school, before the folks got home from their 9-to-5 jobs, I could take long showers. Or even some evenings, when they were glued in front of the television, I could take a long shower. The beauty of a long shower (and having multiple bathrooms) is that you don’t have to have the water running all the time you are in the bathroom. You could ostensibly be using the toilet before you took your shower. Or you could aim the shower head at the wall, so the water wouldn’t hit you, and turn on just enough cold water (cold so you wouldn’t run out of hot water later) to make some water noise… and go to town with your can… or eventually two or more cans… of shaving cream!

I know the first thing I liked to do was give myself big shaving cream “breasts”. Big boobs HAD to have been my first fetish. It’s hard to argue that at some point probably every baby had an impulse to suck at his mother’s bosom for nourishment. It’s a wonder every c***d didn’t keep a breast fetish, and certainly Hugh Hefner did his part to try to keep males fixated on them! Anyway, I tried to divide the output from a fresh can (always a fresh can, I was quite firm about that) evenly between my left side and right side of my chest, but usually just made a sort of oval mess, which I formed into a sort of mountain-ridge-like bahis şirketleri shape when the can sputtered out. Sometimes I would try to fashion a cleavage, but the cream being so heavy, I had to hold up my huge white heavy breasts with both hands, or they would start to ooze down my chest onto my belly, and that wasn’t attractive to me. Besides, holding my big “breasts” up, as if offering them to an enchanted, aroused male lover, got ME aroused, and it wasn’t long before I’d cradle underneath both of the boobs with one forearm as I masturbated quickly with the other shaving-cream-coated hand to a wonderful orgasm! Later on, some years later, when I had sex toys, “titfucking” my creamy boobs with a big dildo was fun, as was “sucking off” that well-creamed dong! (Foreshadowing!)

Big breasts are great, and were very satisfying for a long time, and still are, but you know what else is satisfying? A big, tall, huge, towering, white “beehive hairdo”, made out of shaving cream, that’s what! One time, on a whim, when my hair fetish was particularly strong, I started scooping up the “breasts” and carefully building up the cream on my (dry) hair and head. I could not build out horizontally to any degree at all – the cream would slop down immediately, so it was quite the trick to hold my head still and not look down at my diminishing “boobs”, and to build my “hairdo” equally on all sides, front, back, left, right. I think by this time, I had probably moved out into my own apartment, because I wasn’t in a shower stall, I was in a tub with a shower curtain. Normally I kept the curtain drawn for privacy (a habit – from whom, I lived alone), but this time, when my masterpiece was done, I really wanted to see what it looked like. I carefully pulled the shower curtain aside and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, which ran the full length of the bathroom wall. The “boobs” were indeed gone, but the white patch on my chest showed plainly where they had been. But rising from my head, almost as high as my hands could reach, higher than the shower curtain bar, stood a glistening, quivering, striated, massive cone of white perfection, so like a beehive hairdo that my hard cock started ejaculating without me even touching it! I was cumming to sight of myself in a snow-white beehive hairdo, because it looked so much to me like a hairdo of HOT WHITE SPERM! Holy crap, that was one of the strongest orgasms I have ever had, before or since, and one of probably only canlı bahis three I have ever had without being touched by hand or other body part. Needless to say, shaving cream beehive hairdos were a regular part of my masturbation regimen after that!

Naturally the more shaving cream you use, the more effort it takes to wash away down a shower drain afterwards, especially with a handheld nozzle, especially with a low-flow shower head! Oh well, the sacrifices we make!

Another aspect that can creep in with shaving cream was slightly touched on before, if you were paying very close attention. To this day, as a middle aged person, I don’t know if I am using the term right, but it’s my blog and I am a lazy writer. But it’s breath control. As in having a big dong in your mouth (or throat even), with shaving cream on it, it’s easier to choke or gag than without shaving cream, but if that exxxcites you, well, then, be safe, lovers! But another way to do this, for you hair fetishists who also know it is easier to destroy than to create, and who want to tempt fate a smidge, here’s what I sometimes do. As glorious as that big, towering, shaky, sexy, beehive of shaving cream is, like you had a real jet-black beehive hairdo of your own hair (or a wig) then you had a bukkake party and 100 guys covered your sexxxy tresses CUMpletely with their hot steamy sticky yummy cummy spermy loads of gluey WHITE COME, leaving no strand uncoated, and you’re the biggest bimbo this side of a Bill Ward drawing, and you’re just about to blast a huge load out of your cum-clitty, you take both hands and starting at the back of your neck, you pull that entire huge full can of shaving cream beehive hairdo DOWN ONTO YOUR FACE, BLOCKING OUT THE LIGHT TO YOUR EYES AND THE AIR TO YOUR NOSE AND THE SOUND TO YOUR EARS AND YOU’RE SUCH A SLUT THAT YOU EVEN OPEN YOUR MOUTH WIDE AND STUFF AS MUCH CREAM IN AS YOU CAN WITH ONE HAND INTO YOUR MOUTH AS YOU JERK YOURSELF OFF WITH THE OTHER HAND AND TRY NOT TO BREATHE BECAUSE YOUR NOSE IS FULL AND YOUR MOUTH AND THROAT ARE FULL AND YOU COME SO FUCKING HARD AND AS SOON AS YOU QUIT CUMMING you have to spit the cream out of your mouth and wipe the cream off your nostrils, and then you can breathe, and your heart is hammering in your chest, and the cream is dripping down onto your chest and your legs, and your legs are weak because you came so hard, and you have to use the shower to wash the whole can of cream off of your whole body, all your crevices, even out of your ears, which is a hassle, but totally worth it, because it’s such a rush, chasing that orgasm, knowing your head’s encased by that sexy shaving cream that you love so fucking much.

So I’ve got a dozen cans of Barbasol under my bathroom sink, so what?

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