I managed a couple of hours of unconsciousness around dawn, but by eight I was awake and buzzing like a live wire again.
Besides, I had too many errands to run.
A few jaw-dropping minutes of internet searches convinced me that maybe I'd need a few things from the store before we put our plan into action.
The 'experts'—and how you managed to get the title of anal sex expert, I surely couldn't begin to imagine—all said you really didn't need to do more than take a shower, but that you could do more than that.
Given the weirdness of the situation and the fact that we'd be out in the wilderness with no post-experiment clean-up options beyond wet wipes, I preferred to err on the side of caution.
Buying a variety of extremely personal cleaning products, along with a large bottle of lube, didn't rank among my Polaroid moments. But at least I managed to ditch Colin and go alone—by dint of leaving a note on the coffee table and sneaking out the second he got in the shower.
