Steampunk Guy texted that I should wear a butt plug to the class, but I confessed that I still didn’t have a wearable one. I forgot to mention that it wasn’t a hands-on class, but I don’t think he would’ve cared. The class was at a toy shop, I did start to think that if I found the right one, it might be fun to wear it to the party.
I learned a lot in ass-class. My favorite fun fact was that it’s easier to relax your ass if you relax your jaw. That’s a handy one since I know I need more day-today relaxation if this project is going to turn out as well as I want it to.
I think I’m proud that, when the teacher asked if she could skip one section of her lesson, I was the lady who piped up and said “I would like to hear about enemas.”
Take that, shame! I want to make everything nice.
All in all, I was really glad I’d signed up—it helped me to feel much more oriented and also gave me an excuse to buy some more pillows.
Lots of people stayed after to ask more questions, but I went downstairs to shop. “Do you have a butt plug I can walk around with?” is another thing I’m proud to have said, especially when I consider that two years ago when I started this project, I had a pretty strong fear of sex toys.
I ended up going with a little metal one because I’d heard women recommend them so often and because it looked just like a piece of jewelry. A text came through from SG suggesting that I get a glass one and warning me that the ones in the case are superexpensive, and I gleefully texted back:
“My ass deserves the ones in the case! :D”
It was a little expensive, but the very least I could do for a body part that I spent nearly four decades ignoring—it deserves everything. SG is kind of the-ones-in-the-case himself, come to think of it.
Since my life is odd, I got picked up from this happy errand by my ex-wife, who’d brought me supper. She listened as I chattered excitedly on about the class and the toy. Getting to spend that quality time with her made a fantastic day even better, even if I did feel guilty for not having driven myself. I guess I’ll have to soon enough.
I stopped home to change and texted Pretty Slave to ask if there was any reason not to wear my new toy to the party. She said she didn’t think so, so in it went, chilly for a second but not in a bad way.
As has been documented here, my driving is not necessarily awesome enough to support an altered state, but I did just fine. The hum of the car and the gentle pressure of the Little Metal Thing gave me warm spots all over my body—my knees, my shoulder blades, my blushing face. It was an all-over mood lifter, kinda like one little hit of really good pot.
In front of me on the highway, there was a fireworks display going on in a nearby town. Each burst made me feel lucky and loved by the universe. Just as I got to their exit, the grand finale came, bright and insistent. (I’m still talking about literal fireworks.) I wondered if the folks at the party were gathered outside watching (probably not) but it kinda felt like the fireworks were just for me.
Next: I go ahead and tell them to find a sex loophole.