Sex After Pregnancy, Lube + Not Asking
WHY YOU SHOULD CARE
Because people will talk. Oh, will they talk.
By Eugene S. Robinson
You have sexy questions? Eugene has sexy answers. Write. Now: Eugene@ozy.com
Postpartum Sex Parameters
EUGENE, SIR: We’re pregnant, and while we’re not so much worried about sex after we have a baby, we are worried because of the type of sex we like. From friends in the lifestyle, we’ve heard stories about toddlers wandering in holding their parents’ handcuffs and strap-ons, complete with visits from child protective services thereafter. We all start out vanilla, and we could go back to that. But we’d prefer not to. Is there any way at all for us to have our cake and eat it too? —Mom & Pop
Dear Nuclear Leather-Bound Family: Handcuffs and strap-ons? Hahaha … . Look, I know this is a serious issue for you, but you also have to know that the imagery you’ve given birth to — in light of a parental failure to keep the house picked up — is absolutely high comedy. How could it be so? Well, the toddler is oblivious, the parents embarrassed … and the forces of our superego? Predictably overreacting. From which you should glean the first of our tips at Having Your Cake + Eating It Too: You two no longer live alone. You now live with the world’s most dangerous spy. Which is to say, nothing is safe. Not your weed, not your homemade videos, not your love letters, leather goods or rubber apparel.
Part of kids learning about the world is learning about their part of it, and you are very much part of it. So put those plastic blockers in all the electrical outlets and cabinet locks on all the cabinets, hide your drug paraphernalia and try to work on a reasonable plan for when the kids can walk and talk and listen at all of the doors they can’t open. If your scenes go beyond light bondage, your plans need to as well, at least if you want to keep having the kind of sex you want to have.
And that’s where the real punch line lies: The idea that you seem to have that you’re going to have the time, energy and/or interest in having sex anymore once that kid is born. Nose meet coffee … now wake up and smell it. You will not.
EUGENE, SIR: Do many people use lube for a blow job like you all just said in that article about sex lube? I never have. Eww, I’m gagging a little … —Too Many Cooks in the Kitchen
Dear Dinah: You ever read the small print on some packages of pasta? Let’s assume for a second that you have not. I’m hear to tell you that what the small print on pasta packages sometimes says is “No pasta should be placed in the ear canal. Severe damage to the ear drum may occur.” Do you know what had to happen for them to print that on a package of pasta? Someone had to have sued because they jammed uncooked pasta into their ear, damaged their eardrum and had a lawyer say, “We could make this work!” Now, why they stuck the offending pasta in the ear? Still a mystery to me.
But the point here is this: People will try anything and everything. I know people who have masturbated with Bengay. Or had sex with vacuum cleaners. Or converted flashlights. In full light and consideration of the aforementioned, does it seem that outlandish to think that some would want to add a little lubrication to the existing in-mouth, saliva-based lubricant while orally pleasuring their partners? Even given that the reason sex works even a little bit at all is because of friction? It shouldn’t.
You see, there are more things in heaven and on earth than you’ll find in your books of science, Dinah. Like being fellated by someone with a mouthful of nonsemen-based goo. That they had to pay for.
Asking: Should I Be Telling?
EUGENE, SIR: I just, as in minutes ago, saw a friend’s husband’s profile on some dating site. They’ve been married less than a year. She’s been deliriously happy and I hate the idea of being the bearer of bad news, but I think she should know. Should I just send her a link to his profile? Please advise. Quickly. — Knowing Too Much
Dear Bad News Bear: And to think all you had to do to get to this point was have eyes. My condolences. But your use of the word “should” makes me nervous. It may be that “should” is a jail. We should eat vegetables and exercise. We should tell the truth. We should be the best we can be. And, if everything goes right, maybe we will. But more often than not, buffeted about by both shoulds and should-nots, we fall short. We crash our cars. We drink too much. We lie on our tax returns and, yes, we cheat on our spouses. Sometimes the partners are passive participants. Sometimes, if our letters are to be believed, they are aggressive participants. Here, it sounds like the correct descriptor is “unwitting.”
So you think. And I agree. But it’s a whole other ball of wax to intentionally bring this fairy tale to an end. You can hint, you can lead, even insinuate. But the heavy lifting I’d leave to fate. I mean, look: This profile could be old, from before they were married. A friend could have set it up for him. Someone could have just used his picture. They could have “an agreement,” or it could really be just none of your business. Who knows?
Not you, that’s who. Now, you might not be able to stop yourself and you might end up telling anyway. However, if you do that, you’ll own lots of what comes after, at which point you’ll be asking yourself, “Is my friend happier?” and “Is my friend better off?” And she might be, so how about this, then: Why not send her an anonymous link? She gets the information, but feels no obligation to save any sort of public face, leaving her free to deal with it in her own way on her own time. Just an idea. A really, really good one, but still. Anyway, good luck.