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In a private, dimly lit room, a seasoned, naked man stands before the mirror, his reflection a study in mature masculinity. He picks up his razor, the weight of it in his hand a familiar, comforting sensation. With a deep breath, he begins, the sharp edge of the blade meeting his skin, cleaving through coarse hair, revealing the smooth, vulnerable flesh beneath. He works methodically, his strokes steady and sure, until his ass is a picture of clean, unblemished skin, ready for whatever touch, whatever pleasure, it might encounter next.