Sexcapades (It’s Back!)
Food for thought.
It’s Saturday night. My boyfriend (at the time) and I had a ritual of getting absolutely hammered and ordering out from our local indian takeaways. We always felt invincible after a few wines, so we ordered our usual extra hot Chicken Madras. This Madras packs a fucking punch, and after devouring the whole things, our lips were throbbing, eyes were watering and our arseholes we’re clenched holding on for dear life.
As all Saturday nights should end, Netflix gets halfway through the opening scene and clothes get ripped all the way off. My horniness levels are peaked from the cheeky garlic naan we ordered on the side - who isn’t turned on by garlicky carbs.
Little did we know, as the horniness increased so would the heat. Our bodies collided and his mouth ventured all the way down my body, until eventually, his lips pressed gently against mine. The initial sensation was amazing, my toes curled and I gripped his head pushing him closer.
As we move from the stages of foreplay to fucking, a rather warm tingle graced my lower region. I think nothing of it, we’ve had problems with lube before, and we’d just got tucked into our newest bottle. Finally, our bed was rocking at full force, sex faces whipped out. The tingly sensation I mentioned earlier, turns into a blazing inferno. I’d imagine this is what it feels like to have a fujitsu heat pump full-force on my vagina. I looked at my boyfriend in agony and asked whether he had washed his hands and face after dinner. After a short pause, and a menacing grin, he responded with a slight shake of the head. We turned the lights on and I could see remnants of the dreaded Madras stuck to his moustache.
At this point my fire pussy (my pussy is FIRE, but I mean on-fire) is in real pain. In a panicked frenzy I scream at him to get some water to douse the flames. Like all dudes, he doesn’t listen and brings back a bottle of blue-top milk. Instead of calculating the risk versus reward, I pour the great equaliser all over my body. I’ve been saved by the milk, and I’m lactose intolerant.
Two days later and all seems well. We had tried our best to push this spicy experience to the back of our minds, but my vagina is still in severe pain. I go to the doctors and would you believe it, I’ve got a yeast infection from pouring milk into my vagina.
Safe to say, we are no longer partners, and I will never touch Chicken Madras again.