Click the link if you want to see what I just did. Sadly the Howcast site sucks and doesn’t let you just upload to WordPress, hence the link and not straight to the video. That, ladies and gents, is going into my house when i get back home. My butthole, balls and penis just had some sweet bidet-age. And if that is gay, well call me a nancy boy… because hot damn, that was amazing.
The “pony” just got a fan. And according to Wikipedia.org: “Bidets are primarily used to wash and clean the genitalia, perineum, inner buttocks, and anus. They may also be used to clean any other part of the body such as feet. Despite appearing similar to a toilet, it would be more accurate to compare it to the washbasin or bathtub. Bidets once served as a practical way for couples to prepare themselves before sex, as well as to rinse themselves afterward.”
For the rest of the trip, Searle will be using it as an alarm clock.
I was like those those water gun race games at carnivals or at the Boardwalk — only my butt was the clowns face with the mouth open to blow up and pop the balloon, or the hole for the horse or car to run his/her little race across the top of the screen. Only the water propulsion was warm, oh so very warm.
And rather than stop upon crossing the finish line, my particular horse/car just felt like continuing. For six additional minutes. Oscillating? Why the heck not!
Then I was like, yeah, it’s time to bring this party back around again. And just like that it was like my balls were invited into a rainforest mist. Shot from a Super Soaker 3000. And the party don’t stop ’til 6 in the mornin’…
And when your cock, balls and butthole are the only things being stimulated — well, my friends, you’ll know it when it happens… and if it hasn’t happened to you before — I suggest that you run, don’t walk to the nearest bidet testing facility and get to it.
I was violated, oh so sweetly. I needed some ice cream and a girly movie. And just somebody to snuggle with. But instead, I called the front desk to see if they had any cocoa butter available to slap on my ass. Sadly, no.
Screw butt wipes, Searle needs his very own bidet. But I want a super bidet: a double shooter. One that I can just sit in one position and be caressed from both sides — and in a randomized fashion so that I don’t know when its coming or going.
That’d be my definition of true love. Officially. And if I find it — I’m marrying it.