Sexcapades: The bloody carrot

When I was about 15 years old, I didn’t know anything about sex. All I knew was it involved dick going into vagina (very traditional, I know). So, when I started to feel horny, I turned to anything that was dick shaped. My hairbrush was a common choice. But every now and then when I wanted something longer –– I would turn to the fridge. A carrot, parsnip, even a cucumber when I was feeling brave and relaxed.  

I tried to use my fingers once, but I hated the feeling. I’m sure my Mum wondered where all her vegetables were going. But she never asked, thank fuck.  

A couple months ago, I was on my longest dry spell since losing my virginity. My boyfriend broke up with me six months before and I started dating my vibrator. I opened up my go to porn video after a depressingly long morning Zoom lecture. I was close to finishing when my vibrator died. Honestly, that’s on me for buying the $20 one and thrashing it.  

I was feeling very desperate that day, so I turned to my old friend –– vegetables. I slipped on my old Cotton On pajama shorts and walked to the kitchen with my legs spread out trying to avoid my wetness down there. I grabbed a carrot and scurried back to my room.  

I started pumping the carrot in and out. It felt nice in a familiar way. Like hooking up with an ex. I was a lot wetter than usual and once I finished, I realised I had started my period midway through. I wrapped the bloody carrot in some tissues and threw it in the kitchen bin.  

I completely forgot about the whole thing ‘til maybe four days later. The kitchen stunk. It smelled like sex and old period blood. My flatmate noticed the smell and took the rubbish bag out. But when he did, my bloody carrot had poked a hole through those weak as fuck sustainable rubbish bags. The bloody carrot was poking out — pointing directly at his clothes.  

I didn’t say a word. I watched him carry the bag away. When he came back to the kitchen, he had a red stain on his knee. He was annoyed about it, not knowing where it had come from. I watched him use his bare hands to scrub it out.  

He chopped up a carrot for dinner the next day and I couldn’t look him in the eye.