I agree with HMC!
But to add a touch of "reality"
Imagine the situation. You are both alone in that potting shed. A gentle sprinkling of snow the night before means that the garden looks like a winter wonderland. The sky is blue and the sun is shining, the snow is sparkling. You are leaning over his desk, looking at some seeds when suddenly he stands up, grasps you to his manly chest and stuffs his tongue down your throat. The moment of your dreams has arrived. Unfortunately, he spent last night on the couch, so his mouth is not alpine fresh, but you are prepared to overlook this as he starts to fondle your breasts. Your nipples are standing up like chapel hat pegs and you moan as he unbuttons your top and puts his hands inside. You groan and head south, unzipping his flies and thrusting your hand into a veritable unpruned bush of pubic hair. You have never seen so much of the stuff and groping desperately through it, finally locate what appears to be a very hard...walnut.
In the meantime, he has unhooked your Wonderbra and is gazing in silence at those perky nipples - seductively framed by a ring of wiry black hairs (after so long with your husband, and not anticipating passion in the potting shed you have been a bit laxing in your, ahem, personal grooming).
You suddenly remember your Bristly Brazilian (waxed by a trainee, it looked more like a Mexican hairless when you had it done) and thank heaven that he hasn't discovered this.
There is also an odd odour to the room - sweat and stale wee, which you realise is emanating from his shreddies. Passion has fled. All you are feeling now is embarrassment and a slight touch of nausea.
"I don't know what came over me," he says as he hastily stuffs your breasts back into your bra, catching a bit of loose (post breatfeeding!) skin in the clasp. "Me neither," you mumble. The walnut has since taken refuge in the preponderance of pubes and is nowhere to be seen (or felt).
He goes back to his seeds. You go back to your compost. Being a man, he is quite unaware of his inadequacy on the penis front - no woman has ever said to him that there was nothing she could usefully do with something so small. All he can think about is those hairy nips. And after wondering if you should write to the Guinness Book of records, this is all you can think about as well...
Sorry! I am sure you are a perfectly groomed and toned size 10! But if not, replace hairs with stretchmarks!
And get started on that novel