The other night before making our way out for drinks and gay dancing I couldn't stop laughing when Jason, Dante's best friend from back home, had us stop at the CVS for some emergency enemas. Really? There's so much more to being a bottom than I thought.
I brought it up again a few days ago while Dante was at work and Jason wanted me to score him some green for the long drive back home. I thanked him for the conversation on the playground the other night and we got into the topic of how the "special" dinner I had with Dante the night before went.
I filled him in. Dinner went great. I let Dante decompress in front of the flat screen while I showered and prepared. I walked out wearing little other than his favorite jock strap and proceeded to rub down every inch of his body. Then came the main attraction. And the let down. I don't know if it's as psychological as I thought anymore. It just hurts. I tried. I failed.
Jason tried to reassure me not to worry about it. It could be stress related as well. I hadn't even thought of that. It takes a good amount of relaxing when it comes to taking it up the butt and I have had a lot on my mind lately with the unemployment and all. Curiosity got the best of me and I had to ask him to explain the dynamics of using the enema. I almost wish I hadn't asked. Almost. This knowledge my prove beneficial in the future.
I may have overstayed my welcome at Dante's but in my defense I was going home days ago but Jason asked me to stick around and hang out, mostly due to his wanting to smoke out. I think that's the main reason for Dante's pissyness. He said it was ok to smoke at his place cause Jason was there and it was a special occasion but I really think he underestimated what a pot head Jason really is, not to mention his new boyfriend, the Leprechaun. Whatever. I'll just give it a few days to get over it.