That Empty Colon Feeling

The anal sex was indeed nice! One's asshole is an amazingly erotic spot as I had noticed while cleaning myself up after using the toilet. I was a bit of a cleanliness freak and had wet wipes at the ready, as if I were a mother cleaning up a baby's bottom, except in this case the bottom was my own. Having discovered the pleasure in anal contact, I began to have sympathy for the men of ancient Sodom. Maybe God would have been more merciful if the sodomy had been heterosexual.

These were my thoughts as my ass was up, my head was down, and Jim-Bob was fucking away, pumping his delightful cock inside me as if God had made it just for that purpose. It surely did fit perfectly inside me back there, and Jim-Bob thought so too, if his happy grunts were any indication. I had to admit it: It was nice.

I figured this anal sex was the perfect climax of my celebration of my empty colon feeling. Having your colon filled with cock is so much nicer -- so very much nicer -- than having it filled with, well, shit. When I climaxed from the anal fucking -- to my great surprise and delight -- I was gobsmacked that one could even have a climax from anal sex. I was thrilled as I enjoyed the endorphin storm engulfing my brain.

But ultimately I preferred to be fucked the old-fashioned way -- in my vagina. Anal sex was fine, I decided, as long as it was with Jim-Bob and his perfectly designed cock -- for the occasional need for variety. If I ever marry or live with a guy, and if he's desperate to fuck me but it's the wrong time of month, I'll keep this in mind.

My affection for Jim-Bob was in grave danger of becoming love.

Jim-Bob collapsed on the bed next to me. I rolled over onto my back and just stared at the handsome man who had brought me such pleasure. I felt thoroughly ravished and thoroughly desired.

I also realized I was stranded at Jim-Bob's isolated farmhouse in rural Indiana. I needed to go home; I needed to feed Frenchie and let her out of my apartment to do her business.

Jim-Bob was too drunk to drive me; he shouldn't have driven me to his house from The Office in the first place. Uber was going to cost a pretty penny since it was late on Friday night and we were in the middle of nowhere. These thoughts bounced around in my head as Jim-Bob's cell phone rang. It was Cal. I assume he wanted to know if Jim-Bob had scored with me. I could hear Jim-Bob tell him that indeed he had. What he actually said was, "Yeah. Joanie is fantastic. ... Yes, she'll be in my book on the coffee table. I'll tell you all about it at poker on Sunday night.... yeah, I've got some nice pictures. No worries."

"Are you sober enough to drive?" Jim-Bob asked Cal.

A few minutes later he was off the phone, and he announced Cal was coming over to give me a ride home. I finished getting dressed as the doorbell rang. I thanked Cal vigorously and climbed up into his SUV. Off we went, and this time I verified it was to my home and not to Cal's.

I live in an apartment in town. Cal acted the part of the gentleman and walked me to my door. When I turned to thank him, he took me into his arms and kissed me. We had another spectacular kiss. He began to take off my sweater, but I managed to speak.

"Not here, Cal. Neighbors could see. Thanks for the ride. Good-night."

Cal looked so disappointed that I made yet another mistake and invited him in for a nightcap. He smiled, entered my apartment, kissed me magnificently again, and during the kiss removed my sweater.

Suddenly I was topless and kissing this wonderful, handsome, Black man as he played with my boobs. Had I not just had enormously satisfying sex with Jim-Bob, I would have been tempted. Indeed, I would have let Cal have his way with me. I had never had interracial sex before, except for that one time with my Asian-American friend Bowen Zhang back in high school. But I had never fucked a Black man.

Cal and I kissed some more and once again my skirt hit the floor. Jim-Bob had saved my panties as a souvenir -- he had a collection of panties of women he had laid -- so I was once again naked before a man.

"No, Cal. Jim-Bob and I may have something special, and as tempting as you are, I don't want to spoil it."

"I should have offered you a ride home before Jim-Bob had a chance to do it."

"That would have been a smart move. You know how attracted I am to you. Sorry, Cal. You do know, though, that romance between two Caterpillar employees is forbidden, right?"

Cal smiled. I guess he believed I was now Jim-Bob's girl.

"Sure, Babe. See you at The Office next week?"

"I'll be there." Still naked, I walked Cal to my front door. Cal kissed me goodnight again, his fingers boldly going where Jim-Bob's cock had gone before. I had to admit it felt wonderful, but I managed to get him out the door before my knees buckled. I collapsed in sexual arousal overload just as the front door closed. Thank goodness I was alone and inside my apartment.

Frenchie came to me with her leash in her mouth. She sniffed my vagina and seemed pleased with the smell. I quickly got dressed (including a fresh, clean pair of panties), and took her out for a walk. I could feed her after the walk. Her scatological needs were paramount just then. It was a good day all around for that empty colon feeling.

**

I guess I'll never forget that night. I'm almost looking forward to getting constipated again. No, not really: I hate being constipated. It's nevertheless nice to remember that at least for this one time, it had a delightful upside.

Now I have to learn if I'd started anything with Jim-Bob. I was doomed to wait by the phone, in the time-honored tradition of many, many women before me. Would he call? Would I simply be remembered via a topless picture in his book of conquests?

I would hope he'd take me more seriously than some of the bimbos he had already laid. Would Jim-Bob realize that I was the woman he'd been waiting for? That I was the woman to make him question his commitment to being a bachelor?

He called on Tuesday inviting me over for pizza. My thrill quickly dissipated, however, when Cal was already there, too. Suddenly his book of conquests made sense: There had been pictures of two women in it where Cal had his arm around each of them, indicating they were Cal's conquests, too. Did Jim-Bob want that for me?

I turned around and left. I sat in my car in Jim-Bob's semi-circular driveway. I cried for my lost love. As I was about to drive away the car door opened and Cal got into the back seat. Was he going to invite me to join him back there? No way, no how.

Suddenly Jim-Bob got in next to me. "Sal's pizza won't deliver to my farmhouse tonight -- they're short-staffed. Joanie, can you drive us to The Office? Hey ... have you been crying?"

I wondered what would happen after our time at The Office. Was Jim-Bob thinking he would get me drunk again and then share me with Cal? Or was he just a tad clueless? Well, I'd find out soon enough. In the meantime, I'd be at The Office with two of my favorite guys. I'd have a great time if I didn't overthink it. Bring on the Guggman Haus IPAs, and keep them coming! Que sera sera.