Jimbo finished rinsing the shave cream off. He placed his razor in the cup, pulled out the bottle of Bay Rum, splashed some on his hands and then on his face.
The burn is nice; as is the cool that follows immediately. The smell is pleasant and he loves, that she loves, the smooth feel of his skin when he’s done.
Just returned from a triumphant tour of Scandinavia and the Continent please welcome to the Schenectady Playhouse; Crystal Mann and her Smooth Jazz Quartet.
Lafleur skated between the defending players took the soft pass from Robinson, and tucked it smoothly past Rogie, on the stick side. GOOOAAALLL, the announcer yelled over the PA.
Marie lifted the bottle from the shelf and glanced furtively up and down the aisle. Twisting the top she squeezed a generous dollop of lotion into the palm of her hand, closed the bottle and placed it back on the shelf. She knew it was wrong but her hands felt like sandpaper – coarse and dry. This brand promised smooth skin.
She whistled as she rubbed her hands together and walked out the door, back to the street.
He couldn’t keep his hands off her. She delighted him. Her skin was smooth and perfect in every way.
Dennis lifted the oversized TV and headed for the stairs to carry it down. As he neared the bottom step the heel of his shoe caught and he tripped. The old fashioned TV hit the ground first and the picture tube imploded. A cloud of phosphor hovered around the rubble. Less than a second later Dennis landed on the case that had surrounded the tube and circuitry. There was a loud WHUFF as it knocked the air out of him.
Ed came running from the kitchen to see what the commotion was and found Dennis dusting himself off, catching his breath, and kicking broken pieces, of what had once been a television set, to the side.
“You OK?” Ed asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. With smooth moves like that, I prob’ly shoulda been a dancer.”