Well, not stupid drunk, but definitely high on both wine and pot. My dear friend Myrtis was in town and we hadn’t indulged ourselves in a seven hour gab fest for far too many years. She has traveled the world and I’ve stayed with her and her darling husband when I’m in San Francisco.
We started with a bottle of Chardonnay. Following a bite to eat, a pipeful of smoke and another bottle of wine, we covered our favorite memories since we met in 1972 in Aspen Colorado. We got kicked off the local TV channel for filming me ritually shaving a woman’s head with several nude women in attendance.
This was in my no-hair phase to heal myself from vanity. I’d lived the early part of my life constantly worried that I was not beautiful enough. Finally I was liberated form all bad hair days (which were too often with my straight hair that is now in fashion). We capped off the evening with a bottle of Champagne going over more delicious memories. Then at midnight I pulled down the Murphy bed and Myrtis slumbered in the living room.
Meanwhile I’m still wide awake. I go back to my bedroom/office and watch a bit of TV. (The food channel has become my favorite porn). Finally I get into bed and during my nightly ritual of a friendly hug for my vulva and Clitty Anne before sleep; I must have suddenly felt sexy because I reached for my Obsidian dildo, the Almond oil and Madam Hitachi. When I first woke up, I had that nice feeling of having been well-fucked.
Suddenly it came back to me. I don’t remember the fantasy or any details but I’d had a nice big orgasm for sure. I was reminded of the sex I used to have back in my twenties when I had to be a little drunk to overcome my inhibitions. I dashed into the living room to tell my girlfriend but she’d already left. Yes, I was hung over, but another pipe fixed that.
Then I broke up laughing when I realized I’d had drunk sex with myself. Couldn’t be all that bad— you think?