In the month or so since I chose Steampunk Guy to be my first ass-guy, I’ve been gradually getting myself ready. He doesn’t have very much time, so I’m doing the gentle parts on my own. This appeals to my sense of independence but also makes me feel (like the Steampunks almost always make me feel) like he’s rooting for me and there are many treats to look forward to.
So, every Saturday afternoon, Sweetie makes herself scarce and I climb into bed naked with a library book until the stress of the week leaves my body enough and I settle all the way back into my own skin. Once my mind starts to wander, I put the book away, feel the warms sheets on me and let myself daydream—about whatever I’m hoping will happen at the night’s party, about past adventures, about the end goal of being covered and filled up by him, crying grateful tears.
Then I’ll start to feel myself up for a while, pulling the blankets down for the feeling of showing off my breasts, loving them wholeheartedly just as I’ve done since they first began to grow. If only all the parts had been so consistently and emphatically celebrated.
Then I’ll let my fingers wander to my ass. For a while I was shy and only touched it with toys, but I’m getting less so. There’s still the psychological barrier of the ick factor—probably more handwashing than the average self-adventure. Should get around to ordering some pretty pink gloves. Also there are some other steps I need to learn, but mostly I just want to teach myself away from the shame.
Anyway, I don’t appreciate that the stress of my Friday is directly expressed inside my asshole. The harder my week has been, the trickier it is to enter, and the more pain there is once inside. I try to massage it away, but still. I must be getting my life slightly more in order though, because on this particular Saturday, everything was open and easy.
Once I’m all soft and ready, it’s time for toys. As you may know, the only butt plug I had up until then is far too big for its intended purpose (I learned that this is a common mistake. And, I think, an optimistic one.) but excellent for wiggling around on. By now, my hoo-ha was opened up and emphatically wet, like a library book that’s been left out in a rainstorm. Every fold was swollen, alert, and perfectly slick.
I usually have the Big Purple Thing out, for sucking or for using in front, but this time, I tried an experiment: I lubed it up and crouched down onto it. Whereas the butt plug, which is about the same width, kept refusing to go all the way in, the BPT went all the way in on the second try, easy and natural as if I’d been doing it my whole life. (I’m realizing it’s not the best tool for this purpose, since it doesn’t have a base, so I guess it’s back to the toy store I go.)
Nonetheless, vibrating and filled up with the BPT, I felt washed with a sense of perspective and realized that absolutely NONE of this, really, is a very big deal. I can do it just like anybody.
I went as long as I could without touching my clit—I didn’t want all of the sensations to culminate just yet. I lay back and thrust against the BPT, squeezing my nipples and moaning my head off.
As soon as I got off and washed up, I texted Steampunk Guy (still on the other side of the country) a high five and told him I’d be ready for him when he gets home. He asked some follow up questions and told me I probably wasn’t ready just yet, gave me some more tasks which I happily agreed to. It was one of my favorite conversations with him. I chose him partly for his roughness, for the catharsis, but these texts felt gentle, insightful and humane, like we really are in this particular project together. Some of my pals make fun of me for waiting for him, but it turns out I knew what I was doing. We may not have known each other long, but we’ve been through a lot of paragraphs:
“It helps not to push yourself too hard or try to prove something.”
Who, me? It surprised me that my I-have-to-catch-up-to-the-other-girls urgency was gone and had been replaced, at least in that afterglow moment, with something like faith.
I had a snack and read some more, daydreamed and texted, almost forgot that it was time to get ready to go to Intro to Anal class and then to Cute Master and Pretty Slave’s clothing optional party. I was running so late that I’d missed the window for taking the bus and parking is from the devil, so I had to ask Sweetie for a ride. My life is just a little strange right now.
Next: A pretty new toy and some literal fireworks.