I often forget about lube.

Which is ironic considering every time I use it, I think, “Oh! This is definitely enhancing my pleasure!”

So why I CONSTANTLY forget about it, I will never know.

I have bottles of it stashed everywhere.

In my Burning Man toiletries tote.

In my purse.

In my bedroom drawer right next to the bed.

The other day, I had a not so subtle reminder of why it’s important to use lube.

I was having fun, getting down, when my partner SPIT on me.


He spit on me.

Not just once, but twice.

Spit will do the job, however it’s filled with enzymes and bacteria that probably don’t belong in a woman’s vagina.

Fast forward 24 hours and I’ve got a RAGING yeast infection.

Maybe some women can handle copious amounts of saliva on their nethers, but NOT ME.

I can absolutely VOUCH for that now, as I sit here in complete and total discomfort, waiting for the moment when I can get home and get to a tube of anti-fungal cream.

Monistat, you have my heart.

One thought on “Lube

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