We had sex with Justin Bieber in the room last night.
You probably need more background to that story.
Hi. My name is Angie, and it’s been 6 months since my last urinary tract infection.
I had hit rock bottom. The 10 years prior had been spent avoiding The Sex because I was afraid of getting a UTI. I did anything I could to prevent having my peepee hurt. After doing everything this side of hooking up a cranberry juice IV, I figured maybe bringing it up to my gay biker gynecologist would be the answer to my ouchie pee. You would, too, if you were so horned up by your nearly-non-stop smut book reading that you got the shakes from lack of *ahem* release.
And now you know more about me than pretty much anyone ever. You’re welcome, family who still happen to be reading this and is probably feeling nauseous by now.
My gay biker gynecologist told me something shocking: I was not alone. I thought I kind of already knew that because I’m not normally alone during Sexy Time, but you know, sometimes it happens. But that’s not what he meant. He meant that a large percentage of women have the same hurty peepee issues I have; we just don’t talk about it because we’re embarrassed. Yeah. Been there, hurt there, done (or didn’t) do that.
He prescribed me an antibiotic that I take after The Deed that prevents bacteria from building.
Because it’s totally sexy to think about bacteria growing in your naughtiest of naughty places.
But talking about my ouchie pee hole with my gay biker gyno got me what I needed, and for the past 6 months, I’ve been not-so-slowly making up for lost Sexy Time without a single UTI.
When I went to bed last night wearing my men’s size XL Justin Bieber t-shirt, I didn’t take it off when The Sex happened.
And that’s how my husband had sex with
me wearing my Justin Bieber t-shirt.