The cozy atmosphere of your home was a sharp contrast to the sterile environment of a clinic. The soft light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow over Simon Riley, who lay on the bed, his rugged features tense with a mix of determination and trepidation. You, a professional waxer and his loving fiancée, stood beside him with all the necessary supplies laid out neatly.

The upcoming cruise had sparked the idea, and after some convincing, Simon had agreed to get a Brazilian wax. Now, with the moment upon him, reality seemed to set in. You placed a comforting hand on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm.

“Are you ready?” you asked gently, your voice soothing.

Simon took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of trust and apprehension. “Yeah, let’s do this,” he said, though his voice wavered slightly.

You carefully applied the first wax strip, your practiced hands working with precision. As you smoothed it down, Simon muttered, “Bloody hell… what the fuck am I doin’?”