Lesbians Use Condoms Too

Thu, 12/15/2011 - 21:55
Submitted by Anonymous

So a lesbian goes into a drugstore to buy a condom…

It sounds like the opening line of a joke.

Now, lesbians use condoms, too. We use them to cover toys to keep them clean, to cover the ones made of porous materials to keep them hygenic, and for quick toy/partner/orifice changes in mid-fuck. No need to get out of bed to wash the fluids of one partner off, just peel off one condom and pull another one on.

But, as a lesbian, I’ve never had need to be picky with condoms. I don’t really care about the kind of lube, or not, that it has. Whether it’s flavored or not (actually I prefer unflavored, but it’s not a requirement). Ribbed or slick, extra thin or just regular thin, magnum or regular, whatever. In fact, most of my condom stash comes from free condom baskets at planned parenthood or booths at health fairs and pride day.

So I never really thought about it. And if you’d pressed me, I think I thought that a guy these days, particularly a guy who was sex positive and aware, would have a condom of his preference with him if he thought (or knew) he was going to be having sex with someone. But LS… didn’t. The first time he and I had sex I kept expecting him to pull out a condom and he never did and then I was too far gone in the haze of arousal that I didn’t notice until he’d come inside me that he’d come inside me. I guess because I am infertile and he’d had a vasectomy, he didn’t really care. And thus we were fluid bonded. And it bothered me some. It indicated, to me, that his main concern around safer sex was to not get a girl pregnant, and not really about disease transmission, and what does that say about how he values the girl and her health? I don’t even recall having the “how recently have you been tested” conversation until afterwards. And we never really had the conversation about what being fluid bonded meant for our relationship and for our relationships with others. But I also take responsibility for not having a condom of my own on hand to slap on his dick. And I certainly could have initiated those conversations we should have had. I am as much to blame for that as he is. After LS and LJ and I were over, I went to my OB and asked to be tested for every STI. Every one. I came back clean and breathed a sigh of relief. And then I was celibate for 5 months.

But if I’m going to fuck a guy again, and I don’t want to make the same mistakes I made before, no matter how different and responsible this guy is, well, then I guess I should be prepared. And maybe the guy in question might have some preferences. Or, lord help me, a specific size need. So I went to the drug store and parked myself in front of the condom display.

Now, you should know, I spend an inordinate amount of time in front of the tampon and sanitary napkin display, too. Normally I use cloth pads and a menstrual cup, so it’s only under special circumstances (like traveling or wanting to do some play when I’m on my period) that I need tampons. And each time I go it seems there are new packages, new options, new colors and new dazzling dazzling tampon abilities. I pick up one box, and then another, and then another, and then back to the first box. I read the pretty promises and do the math to figure out how much a single tampon costs. I’ve been known to sit on the floor in the middle of the aisle just contemplating options. And that’s with me already knowing my needs and preferences.

So you can imagine my consternation when faced with a plethora of prophylactic choices. Sizes, colors, flavors. Lubed and unlubed. Premium lube vs ordinary lube. Extra thin or extra durable. Ribbed or smooth. Latex or non-latex. Jesus, I didn’t even know if he had a latex allergy! And I didn’t feel like I could ask him because we hadn’t even had sex yet, and I didn’t want to seem presumptive even if I wanted to be prepared.

So, after a very, very long time standing (didn’t quite have the nerve to sit on the floor) in front of the condoms – time during which at least 2 other people came by, made their purchases without pondering (and I considered asking them why they’d chosen what they’d chosen) — I finally, tentatively made a choice. But only bought a box of three. More seemed DEFINITELY presumptive. And also, if I’d chosen wrong I’d have a lot of condoms. Not that they’d go unused (see paragraph 1 above) but still.

So, condoms finally in hand, I went to the cashier with my purchases. Condoms, a razor, and a pack of gum. I might as well have been wearing a tee shirt that read in blinking lights “SOMEONE thinks she’s getting laid tonight.”

And, as it turns out, despite all expectations to the contrary, I did. Even if I didn’t do such a good job picking condoms. (He, responsible person that he is, had brought his own.)