The bulb seemed like a less intimidating option. I didn’t like the looks of those full-on fucking irrigation systems: I can’t tell whether they belong in a hospital room or an industrial agriculture operation, but they certainly don’t belong up my tender, inexperienced little bum hole.
So I got a bulb instead.
I purchased the bulb online a few weeks ago because I wanted anal sex with Convenient Cock to go smoothly, but it is still safely contained in my dresser drawer, in its packaging, as we speak. I can’t shake the feeling that, as soon as I begin to unwrap it, it’s going to jump out of my hands, poke its plasticky way up my ass, and give me watery, un-aimable diarrhea for several hours.
It’s going to make an appearance at some point, though, because Hawai’i and Rocket Man request that their subs clean the poop chute before scenes.
The Internet tells me I am supposed to fill it with water, shoot it gently up the no-no place while lying on my side, wait for what will I’m sure feel like an eternity, and then expel the evidence in the toilet. I fail to understand how I’m meant to transition from said floorbound position to the toilet, gracefully, with nary a drop of spillage. There is bending involved in that transition. Ab muscles are used. Knees approach chest.
If/when the brave move to the toilet is accomplished, how do I know when my body is finished making its deposit? Will I feel the urge coming on again at various points in the day (during all of which I am inevitably dangerously far from a restroom), like getting the runs?
I’m going to have nightmares. Shitty shit-nightmares.
[Edit: I have updated all mentions of the couple to read ‘Hawai’i’ and ‘Rocket Man’ (she is from Hawai’i, he inspects airplanes). They were previously the single-letter initials J and D, but my posts were becoming riddled with initials. I hope that meaningful names will help distinguish the characters.]