I, too, had considered this over-hyped little stocking filler, but had rejected it on the grounds (practical, I know) that if I couldn't get muddy paw-prints out of my Egyptian cotton sheets, what the hell was I going to do with chocolate?
However, there it was now, nestling in the toe of my stocking along with the satsuma.
It was all terribly titillating at first - hee hee hee. But the chocolate emerged from the tube with the rapidity of year-old toothpaste, and in exceptionally unappealing thin strands reminiscent of Primula or Polyfilla. It took some squeezing before any coverage at all could be achieved - he was blue in the face. He said he wished he hadn't been such a skinflint, and had bought the tub instead. Charming.
Things did seem to look up when the paint-brush came out, and the chocolate was spread and moulded in caressing strokes over my body. However, instead of moans of pleasure, he was gleefully breathing, "Hah - rag-rolling! And look! tortoise-shelling!"
Any hint of eroticism I might have hoped for died as I looked down at this DIY freak having his way with me in a Paint Technique Frenzy.
Suddenly his mind moved on to other things and he claimed to have reproduced a silhouette of Brian Lara executing a perfect off-drive, then asked me to wiggle from left to right to see if we could produce a moving image of the shot.
"Lick!" I ordered, which didn't seem to release him from the field.
"Look! The least you could do is lick this off."
This did attract his attention for a moment, and his tongue tentatively explored an area of chocolate, but then just stopped.
"What?" I said, "What's wrong?"
"It's too sweet," he said, "I only like dark chocolate, love."
I hate stocking fillers.
Spencer & Fleetwood Chocolate Body Paint, 150g tube with brush, pounds 3.99, from Knutz, 1 Russell Street, Covent Garden, London WC2 (0171-836 3117)Reuse content