I remember the moment like it was yesterday. I’d gone into my college boyfriend’s parents’ bedroom in search of Kleenex when I noticed something on their night table that shocked and embarrassed me so much it sent me pelting for the exit.
Was it a dismembered arm? A dime-bag of Bolivian White? A shrunken skull on a pike?
No. It was KY Jelly.
The first thing that occurred to me was that my boyfriend’s elderly parents (they were 47) must still be having sex! And maybe even when I was visiting! Ack.
The second thing that occurred to me was that my boyfriend’s mom must not be producing enough of her own – how shall we put it delicately? — moisture in order to enjoy sexual congress.
From that moment forward I couldn’t look at my boyfriend’s mom without imagining the bone-dry, parched, arid, possibly desiccated Mojave Desert residing beneath her Calvin Kleins.
But oh how life has a mischievous way of circling back around to bite us in our own droughty vaginas!
My darlings, the time is here, in my 49th year, for the KY Jelly to come forth and multiply.
At first I was in denial, thinking that perhaps my marital sex life was just in a bit of a rut. But as the months went by and Aunt Flo stayed on vacation I realized my body had entered a new phase and there was no going back.
At first I was a little bit embarrassed to tell my husband that I needed Lubricant Intervention, as if this was just my vagina’s first inevitable step to needing its own walker and one of those electric chair lifts to get it upstairs.
Henry didn’t bat an eyelash, but returned from the store with a wide array of lubricant choices; there was one that heated with friction, another that causes “tingling,” and some that tasted like peaches and cotton candy had a love child.
In fact, Henry seemed positively energized by the notion of taking them all for a test drive.
The first time using a lubricant was kind of like that moment when, suspecting your eyes might be going bad, you put glasses on for the first time and realize how beautiful the world is and kick yourself for not trying them sooner.
All of a sudden things in bed seemed more, well, fluid.
And somehow the addition of KY Jelly opened the door for other additions to revivify and erect – how shall we say – other body parts? That still look fabulous, honey, but need a bit of perking up.
All of this to say, at 49 and 54 Henry and I have nothing left to prove and are embracing anything — short of swinging and polyamory – that will keep our sex life yummy.
And we’re always open to more suggestions. What do you do to keep your midlife sex life hopping?