We're at dinner with your work colleagues in a posh restaurant enjoying the free-flowing conversation and of course, plenty of alcohol.

However, the entire trajectory of the evening changes instantly when you lean into me and delicately caress my jawline.

"You my dear are in need of a shave."

I raise my eyebrow and smile.

You've always disliked the feeling of any facial hair on the inside of your thighs. It's one of your cute and endearing quirks.

I know exactly what you're thinking about at that moment, and what you want me to do.

"Ahem, waiter? Check please!"