Tip #7: Don"t Let The Bed Bugs Bite
Tip #7: Don’t Let the Bed Bugs Bite
by Ramon Johnson
We had a great time on our first date. Sure, we had met online, but everything was on the up and up. We had great conversation over drinks and dancing. The emotional and sexual chemistry was definitely there. We joked about our families. We talked about our jobs and work frustrations. He compared friends. We even compared our lists of celebrities we would like to sleep with.
He was not only attentive, but his eyes undressed and understood me. I loved it. I couldn’t wait to take him home. He was a package and I was about to unwrap him.
We stumbled to my place. I could smell the light scent of his warmed cologne as the taxi pulled away from the bar. We playfully bumped each other, sliding on the plastic taxi seats with every turn of the cab. He was hot and I was ready. We started kissing and groping. Was I really about to score with the perfect guy? He was educated, nice, attentive, emotional and sexy!
We clamored our way to my front door, barely getting inside before ripping off our clothes. We ran to my bedroom almost naked. Kissing, rubbing, hugging, slipping… and then we hit a brick wall (and I’m not talking about his abs). He tried to have sex without a condom.
"Get a condom baby," I said gently.
He ignored my request, kissing me on the neck. "I don’t like condoms. I can't stay erect."
"Well, I don’t like to have sex with strangers without condoms." Needless to say, my perfect man became the perfect loser.
The groove music in my head came to a screeching halt when I pulled away. I helped him find his clothes and showed him the door.
I’ve never been the captain of the prude patrol, but when it comes to my health I have to lead the charge. The sexy man and I got to know each other a little bit at the bar, but not well enough to put my life at risk. H-I-V-S-Y-P-H-W-A-R-T-S-S-T-A-P-H… Sadly, there are too many letters in the STD alphabet to take any chances. Sex happens. And when it does, make sure the bed bugs don’t bite.
by Ramon Johnson
We had a great time on our first date. Sure, we had met online, but everything was on the up and up. We had great conversation over drinks and dancing. The emotional and sexual chemistry was definitely there. We joked about our families. We talked about our jobs and work frustrations. He compared friends. We even compared our lists of celebrities we would like to sleep with.
He was not only attentive, but his eyes undressed and understood me. I loved it. I couldn’t wait to take him home. He was a package and I was about to unwrap him.
We stumbled to my place. I could smell the light scent of his warmed cologne as the taxi pulled away from the bar. We playfully bumped each other, sliding on the plastic taxi seats with every turn of the cab. He was hot and I was ready. We started kissing and groping. Was I really about to score with the perfect guy? He was educated, nice, attentive, emotional and sexy!
We clamored our way to my front door, barely getting inside before ripping off our clothes. We ran to my bedroom almost naked. Kissing, rubbing, hugging, slipping… and then we hit a brick wall (and I’m not talking about his abs). He tried to have sex without a condom.
"Get a condom baby," I said gently.
He ignored my request, kissing me on the neck. "I don’t like condoms. I can't stay erect."
"Well, I don’t like to have sex with strangers without condoms." Needless to say, my perfect man became the perfect loser.
The groove music in my head came to a screeching halt when I pulled away. I helped him find his clothes and showed him the door.
I’ve never been the captain of the prude patrol, but when it comes to my health I have to lead the charge. The sexy man and I got to know each other a little bit at the bar, but not well enough to put my life at risk. H-I-V-S-Y-P-H-W-A-R-T-S-S-T-A-P-H… Sadly, there are too many letters in the STD alphabet to take any chances. Sex happens. And when it does, make sure the bed bugs don’t bite.
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