When Mustard Becomes A Sex Toy

Posted on July 5, 2018

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Life in the Boomer Lane has a close friend who is so old that she doesn’t even qualify as a Boomer. Her last relationship ended before Facebook began and people needed to show hundreds of others what they ate for breakfast each morning.  But life, in its infinite wisdom and unending need for amusement, has provided her with a new love and an opportunity to once again engage in sexual activity.

We shall call this friend Karen, because this is not her name, and because LBL doesn’t know any actual person named Karen.  On the other hand, because LBL is a horror show with names, if she does, indeed, know a Karen, and if you are the Karen that she knows, please know that this post isn’t about you.

A word about the new love: This, Readers, seems to be the Real Deal. Unexpected, unanticipated, unasked for. It is so much the Real Deal, in fact, that it is the first time in Karen’s life that she has ever felt this way.

A word about the sexual activity. This, Readers, is an untrue statement. If you really believe that LBL would only spend a word about this, you don’t know LBL. Please immediately go back to all of the sex posts she has written in the past. LBL loves to write about sex, especially as it concerns people who the world thinks shouldn’t be having it in the first place.

Karen had very recently (and quite coincidentally) had surgery to repair her interior anatomy. Because LBL’s grasp of the human body is tenuous at best, she will limit herself to the following: Karen had a bunch of female-related stuff sagging and poking out. The surgeon sewed everything back up and stuck a mesh swing inside to hold it all.  The result was fun for the stuff and potential fun for Karen.

Karen, herself, never intending to have sex again, thought the entire thing was interesting but would not apply to her. She was wrong. Along came The Guy, seemingly out of nowhere. Their initial friendship quickly turned into something more. And that Something More quickly turned into a desire on both their parts for sex.  The Guy had missed out on sex for the exact same number of years that Karen had.

Karen was upfront with The Guy. She presented her advanced age, her very recent surgery, her arthritis, her fear, as extenuating circumstances. Because The Guy was such a deeply caring and understanding person, he listened intently and nodded his head as he tore his clothes off. He was, still, after all, a Male.

The good news here was that age, surgery, arthritis, and fear never manifested. The bad news here was that an unexpected issue did.  In the midst of Karen’s re-entry into Sex, she began screaming “Mustard! Quick!”

The Guy, believing that this was a sex toy he had never heard of, happily raced to the refrigerator and brought back the requested condiment. He was prepared to have a part of his own anatomy slathered as part of a “Let’s Go to the Ballgame” sex game.

To his surprise, Karen took a dollop of the mustard and placed it into her own mouth. The Guy waited for an explanation.

“Cramps,” Karen explained. “Really bad cramps. In my thighs. Thanks for the mustard.”

The mustard worked to allow the cramps to subside. Karen and The Guy were able to continue their re-entry into having sex lives with only a minimal number of other concerns.  All in all, the experience was a great success.

LBL is here to report that Karen and The Guy are both happy and crazy in love. They will continue to have sex with the aid of love, patience, accommodation, and the correct condiments.  But not necessarily in that order.

 

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