I like lube. It’s like a drink of water for one’s exciting parts: slick and inviting, and I don’t hesitate to give it a big ol’ thumbs up. I wrote a comic about it, even.
That being said, I haven’t used a damn drop of the stuff with my husband since we met about a year and a half ago.
This confuses and delights me, because I used to run through it like crazy with my ex – we had a big bottle of maximus (the one with the pump top) on our headboard out of necessity. If sex was in the works, I’d get haphazardly slathered with the purell-looking stuff before he’d attempt to get down to business, which usually happened while the stuff was still cold on my ladyparts. I hadn’t realized how complacent I’d gotten over the course of seven years, putting up with not only infrequent sex that I had to all but beg for, routine and unloving when it did happen. Lube got him inside my completely-not-warmed-up self, much the way it assists a speculum during a pap smear. Sex was a matter of getting through it, and I don’t know when I became okay with that but it turns my stomach that I did.
From the very first time I was with my husband, I remember being completely surprised that we were in the act with no outside assistance. He was looking at me, not straight ahead, and I was looking at him instead of squeezing my eyes shut and trying to shift my hips to alleviate that awful dragging feeling of unready penetration. It felt gloriously right, like the sort of things that join together so readily you can’t even see the seams. My brain wasn’t busy compensating for my lack of arousal and wandering into parts unknown, it was focused on the amazing things happening to and around me. This wasn’t mechanical, it was warm and pliant, organic and wonderful. My beloved throe, once relegated merely to protecting the sheets during my girltime, was pressed into service to shield them from my enthusiasm instead.
The small rail-shelf above the bed holds my coveted Inttimo Oils (can you tell which ones we like?) and a massager, but that’s it for the moment.
So, refreshingly, I look at lubes with new eyes now – like exciting new sex toys to be incorporated into an already-fantastic sex life. I look at warming and cooling formulas and flavored offerings with a giddy little excitement I haven’t seen around much since age 18. I’m looking forward to getting to know my lube all over again, in the very best of ways.