Sometime last year, some of you may recall that Nana and I took an excursion to look for sex toys while she was here in Atlanta. In that time, she made it clear that she did not care for ‘coital enhancing’ lotions and creams…she was more interested in battery operated hardware. Previous to that moment, I had not given much thought to what a woman’s possible aversion to body smears could be. A few nights ago, I found out what one of those causes may be.
I’ll come right out and say. For the past couple of weeks I’ve been a little parched in the panties. No magic tricks my husband has pulled out of his hat have managed to get me moist enough to permit painless entry. So, KY has become our constant friend. No big deal. Well, my dear hubby thought he might help me along by plunking down $25 and purchasing some KY Intense – For Female Satisfaction. Have you seen the ads? The product promises mind blowing, pyrotechnic orgasms for women.
“Rub it on!” I commanded. He hesitated for a moment.
“But I think you need to get a little…”
I interrupted him mid-sentence.
“Rub it on now, I say! I want to see if this thing really works!”
He did as he was told.
“Now stick it in!”
He obliged. Less than 20 seconds into it, I cried for him to take it out.
“Take it out! It burns! It burrns!!”
My dear spouse looked perplexed.
“What burns babe??”
The KY! Ajeish!!”
I was twitching uncomfortably by this time and rubbing myself vigorously with a wet wipe. In the meanwhile, he hovered above me, not certain whether to move out of the way, attempt to continue the encounter or just abandon any thoughts at all. He ended up laughing. I was not so amused.
Let me tell you what KY Intense is like. It’s like putting ROBB directly into, on and around your vagina. It’s not pleasant. Period. As I lay there fanning my nether regions, I thought of Nana’s sage words. I was also taken back to adolescent days when one of my boyfriend’s thought we were in an R. Kelly video or a Silk song. He wanted to lick me “up and down” and poured honey all over my body (we didn’t have any chocolate syrup handy, sadly). By the end of the encounter, my legs were sticky, my clothes were sticky…I was a gooey Ghanaian mess riding home in a taxi.
Body smears. Bah! Who needs ’em?
What say you? Are you a fan of juices and berries in a bottle? I’m sure we’d all love to know. Heh, heh, heh…