Now that the holiday season is well under way, many of us are finding that we need to tighten our belts in terms of spending. So what happens to our sexual appetite? Do we stop having sex because we can’t afford to buy our sexual amenities? How can we get the biggest “bang” for our buck sexually when we are virtually broke? Here are a few stories about some friends who didn’t let their lack of funds rain on their sex parade. Rather, they found household remedies to cure their appetites.
One friend had been dating her boyfriend for a couple months and sex was fairly new with them. Anyone who remembers this stage of their relationship knows about the burning sexual desire felt during that “honeymoon period”. One night, when things started to get hot and heavy, this young teen quickly realized they had no protection and no money to buy any. I’m sure many couples would have made the risky decision to just “raw dog” it, but this safe and creative couple had another last resort. They searched the house for any “tools” that could assist them in safe sex. They were in the kitchen when her boyfriend had a sexual epiphany (It’s a wonder what men can do when they have sex on the brain). He grabbed a Gladd trash bag, wrapped it around his Willy (…talk about a magnum condom) and claimed he was ready for action! His girlfriend was open minded (or maybe just horny) enough to give this trash bag sex a shot. So they got it on with some help from (what I used to consider) one of the least sexy items in my house. The next time you find yourself horny and without protection don’t get mad… get Gladd!
A male interviewee was once in desperate need of some masturbation aid. It seemed the planets had aligned and fate frowned upon this poor guy as he found himself at home alone with no lube, no lotion and was fresh out of soap. Hmmm… if only he had an apple pie… Anyways, everyone knows that nothing gets between a man and his masturbation. So he began to search the house. Olive Oil was one of his first choices… but he worried it would be too messy and could stain his Egyptian Cotton sheets if he wasn’t careful. So he moved on to the bathroom. Opening the medicine cabinet, he noticed the baby powder. For years it had given him relief, taken away his foot odor and just given him peace of mind. He would now find another use for it. He poured some on himself and then went to town. Initially, it was just soothing and felt good. But after about a few minutes, the powder combining with his crotch sweat turned the texture of the powder into doughy substance. He reapplied fresh powder and kept at it. Repeating the process a few times, he was actually able to finish. But coming out of the moment, he realized he had a giant wad of dough in his hands. He jumped up, ran to the sink (pants around his ankles) and washed the dough down the garbage disposal, careful to get rid of it all. That was one recipe for dough he hoped was never baked.
I want to close by saying that I don’t actually recommend any of the procedures that were used in these stories. These are last resorts for the broke and the brave. And while I admire these resourceful warriors of sexual desire, don’t complain to me if baby powder masturbation gives you a UTI… or if trash bag sex gives you a yeast infection. That’s the last thing you need this holiday season.