Well, there’s good news. The spring plowing is going fine, it seems. Blanche is enjoying her time out in the fields. The irrigation system that she feared might not function after many very dry years is also working overtime, if you catch my drift.
But Blanche, like many who have gone through an extended fallow time as they wait for just the right field hand to come along, still has a few worries. You know how it is with farming. There’s a lot to worry about. For example, does the farmer have what it takes to put in long stretches of plowing?
Unfortunately, Blanche did confront a problem. And here we need to let the farming metaphors go for a bit and move to housekeeping. Let us discuss dusting. (Not crop dusting. That is an entirely different subject, and if you want to hear about that, you might wanna read this.)
Blanche had a little issue in her field, and went to her gynecologist, Dr. Crotchmore, to get things checked out. As she suspected, it was a urinary tract infection. The doctor asked Blanche if she was having a lot of sex, and she reported she was. After years of celibacy, Blanche has started having sex left and right and up and down and forward and backward and in and out. (Mostly the latter.) The advice Dr. Crotchmore gave her was so priceless that I’m sharing it here.
“You need to let the dust settle,” Dr. Crotchmore said. “Your partner is introducing bacteria into your body, and your body needs time to adjust to it.”
“Dust?” I asked Blanche as she recounted this doctorly cooch-keeping wisdom. “Maybe you should hit it with lemon furniture polish and a dust cloth. I had no idea you’d been celibate for so long that dust had gathered. Goodness, Blanche. Maybe swipe that thing with a feather duster once in a while.”
“If you want to have sex, use condoms for a while,” Dr. Crotchmore said. (We would add that condoms are a must in non-monogamous relationships and recommended for new relationships. Blanche has other contraception in place and is confident in her fieldhand’s condition so she hadn’t been using them.)
“But then,” Dr. Crotchmore added, “after the dust settles, you need to have a lot of sex to help your body get used to his bacteria.”
Might I note that nothing in the world is hotter than to say to your guy, “Hey, we really need to have sex again, because Dr. Crotchmore says my beaver needs you to introduce more of your bacteria. But first, let me pee.”
(As a professional romance novelist, I must ask you to please hold while I take a note to include that scintillating bit of dialogue into my current work, “The Field Hand’s Hankering.” Or “The Farmer Boy’s Bacteria. Or maybe “Field of Peens.”
It’s serious advice, though. Peeing right before and after sex is important for anybody prone to UTIs. Blanche recalls lying in bed one time, enjoying blissful afterglow, and not running to the bathroom right after one day of plowing. That’s when it happened, she surmises.
And then she asked me what about sluts and sex. “How do sluts avoid getting constant UTIs?”
Now why would she ask me that? (Who told her about my younger years, anyway?)
“Sluts don’t have to worry about UTIs,” I said. “They never let the dust settle down there.”
Sophia Sinclair is Curvicality’s sex and relationships writer and the author of the Small-Town Secrets romance series, available on Amazon. Reach Sophia at email@example.com.
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