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Vaginal Lubrication, How to Live the Lube Life - Slip, Slide & Away We Go

By Anonymous
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I realize I haven’t told you much about the prince, otherwise known as the boyfriend. I’m saving details for later, but I will share this. He’s younger, by almost 20 years, 19 to be exact.

That’s significant because it explains why, when he went running out of the house for a solution to my vaginal dryness/personal lubrication problem, the following went through my mind: I hope he does not bring back, a) hot fudge topping, b) whipped cream, c) ice cream, and d) bananas. I know what that boy will do for a hot fudge sundae.

I stood in the middle of the kitchen and crossed my fingers, hopeful that he’d at least of the presence of mind to ask a fellow shopper for a recommendation. I had my doubts.

A few minutes later, the front door opened with a bang, and the prince came bounding in, startling me. He handed me a plastic grocery bag. I stared at it, frozen in place. It dawned on me that this wasn’t exactly a good sign: going to the grocery store for a personal lubricant was kind of like picking up a bottle of wine at the Circle K en route to a fancy dinner party. Or so it seemed at the time.

“Open it,” he said waving the bag excitedly in front of me.
Cautiously, I looked inside. There was a long rectangular blue and white box, the grocery receipt tangled around it. I stared at him. “You got deodorant?” I said confused.
“Deodorant?” blurted the prince. “What are you talking about?” He reached in for the box and pulled out an elliptical-shaped bottle with a bright blue cap.

“Carra-Gee-Nie?” I said trying to pronounce the name on the label as he held it up to my face.

“No, it’s carra-gee-nan,” the prince sounded out. “It’s from ocean plants. Here, give me your hand.” He flicked off the cap with his thumb and squirted a thick clear liquid into my palm.

“Ohhhh, silky smooth!” I purred rubbing it around. “It feels just like, well, me.”

Suddenly a suspicion exploded in my head. “How do you know about this stuff?” I glared at him.

The prince started laughing. “Relax,” he said. “I was in the can and saw a funny ad for it in one of your women’s magazines.”

“Really?” I said. “What’d it say?”

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We value and respect our HERWriters' experiences, but everyone is different. Many of our writers are speaking from personal experience, and what's worked for them may not work for you. Their articles are not a substitute for medical advice, although we hope you can gain knowledge from their insight.

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