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Monday, 10 October 2016

Strawberry or Tropical... What's The Flavour of The Night? The Va-Jay-Jay Is Not A Fruit Bowl!

Not so long ago, I’ve made some loud jokes. Bad jokes. About condoms. Those flavoured ones? Yea, those. I used to make my friends laugh so hard they nearly wet themselves. One of the jokes was, “When you’re working up an earth-shattering-mind-scrambling org*sm, the last thing you want to do is fight off the ants and bugs attracted to the strawberry-flavoured rubber.” Yea, I was young, bold and stupid… not thinking that my own joke will come biting me back in the a*s one day.

Here’s the story.

I’m all about having fun, protective s*x. No worries when you’re a day late on the rags or wondering if you got STD because of that slight itch ‘down there’.  Play safe or play by yourself - that’s the motto.

Anyways. I am not promiscuous. Not anymore. Well, not since college anyway. I’ve had my fair share of boyfriends, lovers – plenty of wonderful memories and some that still make me go *facepalm* until today.

Take for instance my recent tumble-under-the-sheet rendezvous with a friend, a very very dear guy, whom right from the first year of our friendship, we’ve established that we were better off as friends, because we may never be this close again if we didn’t work out romantically.

We both lived individual lives with no common friends and had respective relationships. You can say we pretty much behaved with hands by our sides for the first few years before adding some sss-pice into the second half of our friendship. It’s the same story but with a slight twist to the plot. But still, no expectation. No “why haven’t you called me?” or “are we meeting tonight?” Nope. Nada. We've been through months even years (the longest was three years) without seeing each other, only keeping tabs through social media, Whatsapp or the occasional phone calls to ask, “Monkey, are you still alive??”

For the last four years I’ve been monogamous with my friend. We’re so comfortable with each other that no reminder needed about bringing over some 'supply' to the house, except of course when the existing supply had exceeded its expiry date. Regardless, he'll always have a fresh-bought packaged tucked in his pants whenever he comes around.

Such a good boy.

Well, for that bit about being such a gentleman.

The one pet peeve I have with him is – he never checks the damn LABEL!

Whenever he produced a package, I'd always asked, "Oh, what kind did you get?”

And the reply? “I don’t know. I just grabbed one.” Seriously?

Most of the time, it was alright. No biggie.

But what happened last night finally broke the camel’s back.

It was our first meet after being apart for nearly a year and a half. We went to a local bar for drinks. We talked. We listened to good music. We had some laughs. It was fun – something we haven’t done in ageeess.Then we got back to my place. Had more laughs. Then he took out the package.

**Deep sigh**  

The packaging was amazing. The packets neatly tucked into circular-shaped plastic container with taglines ‘Super Studs’ and ‘Extra Large Studs For Maximum Stimulation’ screamed guaranteed satisfaction in the sack. Rrrright.

Here’s the best part. Or should I say, the worst?


Yup, my gorgeous buddy bought DURIAN-FLAVOURED condoms!

 Whoever created this, should be 
shot on sight
When I saw those words, I was speechless. Then pissed off. Of all the flavours available, he gotta buy the ones in the flavour of the smelliest fruit in the world!!!

Now, here’s the thing. I don’t think my friend did it on purpose, to play tricks on me. In fact, I don’t think he realized what he had done. He was straight-faced the entire time. Adamant that the word ‘DURIAN’ printed on the packaging was just an emphasis on the description on the hard studs on the latex. But dude, come on! When he tore open the foil packet, the smell was UNBEARABLE!

"It is not durian". He stood to his ground. 

And I stood to my ground too, "That thing’s not coming near me”.

NO WAY, dude. My va-jay-jay is not a fruit bowl! 

A gentleman as always, he took a taste and once again reaffirmed that he was right. I did the same taste-test and I was right too. Exaggeration aside, it did taste like the fruit. Well, not really. It was rather sweet and not too overpowering like the actual fruit, which was means a lot as I generally do not eat durian. In fact, I fu**king hate it. Can’t stand being even a foot from it. Even with the promises of ‘glow in the dark’ and 'limited edition' were completely lost to me.

Maybe it was the alcohol (I had one beer… such a lightweight) or from not 'gettin' some' for more than a year, I gave in. We went for it. Durian rubber and all. And it was good. Awesome. As always. But after he left, I still had the feeling of being stuffed by the disgusting fruit that I went straight into the showers and scrubbed myself raw. But. The. Smell. Was. Still. THERE!!

Even to the morning, with more shower, more scrubbing, I’d get wafts of that sickening sweet smell on me. So much so that, I was belching for a good part of day before it died down. 

Gawd… what a traumatic experience. No more bloody flavoured condoms for me.

Here some lessons learned:

As much as you trust your partner, trust your gut instinct more. Buy and keep your own stash of protection. Satisfaction DEFINITELY guaranteed.

2. ASK
This is for you and your partner. Please ask what kind or should I say ‘what's the flavour of the night’ would be. Saves a lot of trouble for more org*sm-making time. 

For the love of mind-blowing session, please please PLEASE read the label. Grab and go is not an option. We women are accommodating, but not THAT accommodating. We have our limits too.

While 'flavour designers' (if that's what they're called) are getting more and more creative in their creations of unique tastes for those boring-looking protections, I'm all for it. The thing is, some of us are happy with plain ol' TLC. No flavour needed.
Despite the durian fiasco, I haven’t had that much fun with anyone for the longest time. It felt good to have someone who doesn’t judge you for the way you are, the way you look, what you do and most importantly, paid all the attention to you and no one else when he’s with you.

So thank you, friend, you’re one of a kind. Irreplaceable. Like I’ve said before, you have a special place in my heart. Always. And I look forward to more cringe-worthy moments with you. You awesome, bro!

P/S: Dear Friend, I know you'll probably freaked out reading this blog, but honestly, this is one experience we've just gotta put it down on paper!  

So, what's your condom trouble? Would love to hear your 'flavour of the night' gone bitterly wrong.