He brought a bag of goodies with him. Yeeeesss indeedy. Somewhere between remote controlled vibrating panties (worn while making food – pretty dangerous) and some handcuffs, I went along with the idea of anal. Which I haven’t been able to do in years, mind you. No no, its cool, let’s try anal again THE DAY BEFORE A CHILLI FESTIVAL. I seriously do not think things through.
Well at the festival the next day I ate a shitload of hot chilli paste, oil and marinades (sadistic because I don’t even like hot foods..). Someone said ‘you’re pretty tough for a girl’ early in the piece which crapped me off – No, I’m a person at a chilli festival. When in rome, you sexist dickhead. Want me to rub chilli in your eyes and see how ‘manly’ you are? 😀
Meanwhile back at the ranch again, there was a ribbed cock sleeve in the bag which ended up turning from awesome to paaaaaain. Plus a lot of clittention (see what I did there, totes making up words). And there you have it kids, 547 sex injuries is good for once – the whole region hurt by the time I went to the toilet, covering up the specific anal/chilli poo pain. Huzzah!
And I’ve come to the realisation that I’m not destined to love anal. Even when I could handle it in the past, it just felt like I was shitting backwards. Over and over. So sorry guys, that ship has sailed. Unless you have a tiny dick 🙂
In conclusion, small dicks are good for something and DO NOT rip your butthole the day before a chilli festival, unless you’re planning on damaging everything around it too.
Wow, my life advice is getting intense..