Slippery When Wet: My Love Letter to Lube

Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet

Roger Miller


I know this post will (hopefully) be preaching to many of you who are already singing ferociously from the front row of the choir. And before I get started, I’d like to state I’m writing from a personal perspective, of a cis female. If you have any further ideas, perspectives or opinions, feel free to get in touch through commenting below. I’d love to hear from all of you!

My first confession I am going to share isn’t especially filthy, or unnngh that’s so hot. However, it enables me to do a fair amount of the stuff I write about which is especially filthy and unnngh that’s so hot. Are you ready?


It’s actually more than love. It is a relationship in which I could absolutely not live without it (maybe that is how some of you would define love…). I love the way it feels as I part my legs, am told to hold still, and I’m slowly and deliberately slicked up from my clit, across my labia as a finger or two is inserted inside me. I don’t want you to be neat about it, I want it everywhere. Or the sensation of lube applied a matter of millimetres from my arse, feeling it slowly slide downwards until, again, it is thoroughly applied as I wriggle in anticipation of what’s going in there. I love knowing I will feel if it I press my legs together, and that this might mean they are planning to be fuck me for a long time, hopefully not gently. I love the sound it can sometimes make, the squelch, as they fuck me from above.

Now, I know we are forever told that lubricant is essential to a healthy sex life, especially penetrative activity. I love anal sex, and this would absolutely not be possible without it, and it can enhance the comfort of vaginal penetration. But, there is another reason that lube is always part of my sexual toolkit. I very, very rarely ‘get wet’. This isn’t always a huge physical issue, as lubricant always does the job, and I’ve become less and less anxious about asking for it. But mentally it can take its toll.

When I read pieces which describe scenarios such as discovering how wet someone’s cunt is and being subsequently thrilled, or being told how wet someone is expected to be, I get a little sad inside. I’ve rarely been told that- and of course the (not so) fabulous thing about brains is that the more I want to, the less likely it’ll happen. This has been particularly bad over the last 8-9 months, when I have been trying different antidepressants and having a difficult time with my anxiety.

This also extends to non-penetrative sex. I get anxious when someone wants to know how I taste as a way to suggest they want to go down on me, because I know it’s not going to be the ‘delicious wet cunt’ they ask for and expect. I worry they will take that as a sign of reluctance, or a lack of enjoyment or engagement. This couldn’t be farther from the truth. It’s likely if I’ve chosen to be with a partner, and we are at the stage where you are asking to taste my ‘delicious wet cunt’, I’m definitely engaged and enjoying myself.

I’ve found ways to get around this. Mostly this has involved communication, and ensuring I feel comfortable to ask for lube when I need it. I now always bring lube to any situation, get it out and put it within reach at the very beginning of any play commencing. This also means I can use the brands and type of lube which I am most comfortable with, and won’t irritate me. I like to use a variety depending on the pay I’m engaging with (mostly a toss-up between silicone and water based brands). Some flavoured lubes are fine, some (readily available in the shops, ‘mainstream’) brands are sticky and sweet and I don’t want to smell candyfloss around my cunt when I’m being used like a filthy whore. Anything ‘warming’ or ‘tingling’ is a definitive no for me. I’ll let you know when I want deep heat or vapour rub anywhere near my genitals, and I’ll give you a clue: it’s never. But of course, everyone is entitled to their preferences.

I have also developed a different safeword with partners with whom I engage in play where this is appropriated. I have one word which means ‘I’ll need more lube n the not so distant future’ and another meaning ‘I will have to stop fairly soon if we don’t apply more because it will start to be very uncomfortable, so get a move on’. I have been lucky enough to have wonderful, understanding partners who would be genuinely upset if I didn’t tell them I was reaching a stage where it could be uncomfortable. I’ve also had partners who took offence if I even suggested lube, to which I walked out of the door and never went back (three so far, your loss fuckers). Which is sadly more than many of my more vanilla friends have done when they’ve asked for advice on similar situations (my only advice is: if the want is communicated and they won’t accept it, LEAVE).

Lube, I love you completely. 

So I think I’m going to try and include this more in my writing. I want to normalise the use of lubricant in tales of dirty, filthy fucking (which I know many of you are so good at and I may have failed at in the past- maybe through embarrassment, or because being told that I’m so very wet feels like an unobtainable goal to be which makes it hotter in my head?). And finally, I’m not going to beat myself up when I need to use a lot of lube (whether with myself or a partner). I’ll find someone to (very consensually) do that for me….

One Comment

  1. Odysseusrex

    Lube is associated with anal or toys in my mind, so it’s always getting me more aroused when it’s mentioned or put close to hand.
    Anyone who recoils from the idea of lube is very suspect!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *