It’s been almost a month since I posted Fucking Butterflies written on my way to spend time with Thumper and to get my dick poked with a really big needle. I went back to read that this morning because tomorrow I will be sitting on a plane again on my way to see the bunny for the better part of two days to remember how I was feeling then versus now.
If you remember, I was nervous about seeing him (a fact he made fun of with me at lunch that day and then later admitted in a post that he was nervous too) and making sure that our more “relaxed” relationship which was quickly morphing into a friendship was going to continue to work on the physical level and then VERY nervous about having my penis forever altered.
It’s funny, one month later my only real worries for this trip to the “Frigid Land of Thumper” are whether he is going to be able to escape his “house of plague” unscathed and how it’s going to feel to be able to use my newly healed accessorized junk, as the expiration date of my hands and anything else off period conveniently expired yesterday.
Actually, that’s pretty fucking cool that those are the only real worries so that’s good and now just part of life.
On the Thumper side, I cannot cancel this trip because this is one of those tickets that if you change the outbound portion the airline reserves the right to take one testicle and ensure that you sit only in a middle seat for six months as penance, so I am going, sniffly bunny or not. If he’s sick, well, I’ll send him soup with all the noodles arranged in some seductive way and take care of myself, however, that’s not going to happen because he’s not getting sick. I simply won’t allow it.
Assuming that all is well, then hopefully you will get to read about the literal hump day written in a way that only he can write. My Dom side has some plans in place that will make for some good reading starting with repercussions for his lack of acknowledgement of one request I had prior to my arrival followed by several surprise tools that I hope pass through TSA inspection without causing me to lose my global clearance. My Friend side is just excited to see him and talk about baseball, planning to see baseball, Marvel characters that I don’t know nearly enough about, and about Belle, Axel, and anything else that pops in our heads.
And, as the ultimate in switchiness, we are going to order my Steelheart because, frankly, when you are naked with the expert and he’s touching your penis anyway, why not take advantage of it (after said penis is tired and thinking of other things)? I think both of our minds are able to go back and forth now and, well, if this is not the actual case, I am sure one of us will surely take 1407 words to tell you about it or the wonderful pasta we had at dinner.
So, all that to tell you those butterflies are officially dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.
On the hole in my penis side of things, I am excited to test it out. As I told you, I am now very excited that I did this and, despite the bloody mess, very excited that I went for the larger gauge from the beginning. He and I are going to go visit my new friends at Saint Sabrina’s to pick out and buy me a new ring which I am super excited about because I have wanted that from the beginning, though I will FINALLY admit that the barbell is starting to grow on me. Since this will be the first time the hole has been opened, I think I am going to let them install it just because I am a tad nervous having seen those pliers that he uses to do his!
Now, having just read that to myself, it just hit me that there will be some stupid commenter from somewhere reading only that last sentence and writing about how despicable it is that he and I are already ring shopping together. Oh, poor Belle. Poor Axel. Ha.
Those tweets are practically writing themselves right now aren’t they?