You’ve got a new flame, and with flame comes burning. You know what I’m talking about—“honeymoon cystitis.” First you spend hours in sexual congress, then you sit down on the toilet in a haze of bliss and realize your urethra is trying to piss out a knife.
Fear not. Take it from someone whose twenties passed in a blur of angst and urinary tract infections. Not only can you survive those bladder bugs, you can rock ’em.
Lesson 1: Be prepared.
When headed to your lover’s house or away for the weekend, prepare a first-aid kit stocked with cleansing wipes, antibiotics, urinary analgesic, cranberry powder, and probiotic capsules. Then own it. Nurses are hot—pretend you’re a naughty Clara Barton about to engage in illicit activities with a young Billy Yank or Johnny Reb. Pop a preemptive cranberry pill. Now push out your chest and make a duck face. That’s it. You’re ready for great Civil War photographer Mathew Brady to take your pornographic daguerreotype. If your man asks about your first aid kit, prove you’re with the Red Cross by reciting their motto: Together, we can save a life. And fuck a lot.
Lesson 2: Prepare your lover.
Nothing’s more awkward than bringing up the subject of urinary health in a new relationship—except hours of postcoital weeping on the toilet. (Or having to utter the phrase “there’s blood in my urine.”) Be proactive. As things heat up in bed, whisper to him, “I cannot wait for your penis to thrust some rogue, drug-resistant e coli into my urethral opening.” Be advised, he’s likely to hear nothing beyond the word “thrust.” If he looks confused, take your breasts out and whisper “drug-resistant e coli” again. If he still doesn’t get the message, that’s his fault for not listening. He’s been warned.
Lesson 3: Hygiene, hygiene, hygiene.
It’s best to shower beforehand, and a soapy hand job is the least obvious way to get your man’s penis germ-free. However, if a shower isn’t in the cards, you can distract him with one hand while using your other hand to retrieve a baby wipe from your portable first-aid station and perform a cursory perineal cleanse. If he notices, and asks why you’re holding a baby wipe, push him onto the bed and kiss him hard. Then say, “If you’re good, I’ll show you my diapers.” He’ll be so turned on by your apparent kinkiness that he won’t realize you’re talking about the actual adult diapers you had to purchase when you got a UTI and thought you were going to piss yourself on a road trip.
Lesson 4: Drink LOTS of water.
While you’re drinking, let several drops run down your chin and into your cleavage. You’ll look like a Sports Illustrated model on the beach. The more water you drink, the better you’ll be able to flush out your urinary tract after the deed is done. Just refrain from yelping when he presses down on your extremely full bladder, and resist the knee-jerk reaction to strike out at him with one of your limbs. If this should happen, go full BDSM and tell him he’s a worthless little worm that needs a big spanking. The shock value of such a statement will prevent him from noticing any pee dribbles you may have loosed upon his bed.
Lesson 5: If symptoms strike, be mysterious.
Savvy urinators will have the Azo urinary tract analgesic pill ready to go. Be mindful of the dye in those pills. We’ve all been caught unawares by those bright orange stains in our underpants. I would advise keeping this side effect on the down low, but if your lover does catch a glimpse and asks questions, you can ratchet up the kink level by saying in a throaty voice: “I was just having a special time with some Cheetos.” He’ll be too embarrassed to ask what this means, but he’ll be thinking about it for days on end. Congratulations on cultivating a sense of mystery! And whatever you decide to do, avoid sudden alarming statements like, “Jesus! It looks like an Oompa Loompa pissed in here!” Then hope that you’re either married or broken up by the time he notices the orange stains under his toilet seat.
Now go get ’em, sex kitten. I have confidence in you!