On one of Husband's many travels for work, he stayed at an uber posh hotel which offered some line of Hermes shampoo, body gel, and bar soap. Of course he put the fancy stuff in his bag for the future and used less nice soaps he hoarded from another hotel. The Hermes goods wound up in his bag for use at the house we rented for a week in upstate New York. When I saw the dark greenish blue bottles and plastic soap case, I was excited. "Ooooh," I thought, "This is going to be so lux!". I could not wait to try them.
My first shower at the house, though, was by the pool in a little wooden bath house. For some reason, the landlords stocked it with body washes, shampoo, and conditioner that smelled like various flowers and other dainty scents. It was nice.
The next day, I used the regular shower. My hands practically trembled with anticipation as I unscrewed the lid of the shampoo bottle. I lifted it to my nostril and took a deep breath. Then I nearly passed out.
It was the strongest cologne I have smelled outside the section of department stores in which sales people assault shoppers with test sprays of cologne. I smeared the shampoo on my head and immediately felt my balls tingle. Except I don't have balls. That's how manly this cologne shampoo smelled.
When I washed my body, I was certain that the soap bubbles cleansed my thick mat of chest hair extra thoroughly even though my chest is one of the few places that I don't seem to have hair. My voice deepened. I wondered why I didn't have a pair of silk boxers and a matching smoking jacket.
In short, I'll not miss the Hermes body cologne cleaning products after my last shower here tomorrow morning. I only hope that it will not have a long lasting effect on my testosterone levels, as my chin hairs don't need any more encouragement.