Love Puff.

Ladies, I want to talk about something that we probably aren’t meant to talk about. I want to talk about the Love Puff. The Queef. The Fanny Fart. Whatever it is that you want to call it – the expulsion of air from the vagina after or during intercourse. You know what I’m talking about.

Va-ChinaWell, I did my first love puff in front of Jock. And it was mortifying. He had happily been pumping away while I was on all fours and once he was done, he stepped back. There it went – the love puff. And I’m not talking about a little noise. Oh no. I’m talking about the Queen of all Love Puffs. Queen Love Puff.

We both tried to ignore it but it was so loud, there was no way. It was one of the most horrible moments of my life. It was that moment that the romance of the situation – the innocence of our new relationship, went out the window.

He now knows that I love puff. Before he didn’t know that I love puff. Now he knows. I know it’s a normal body reaction that happens sometimes during sex. He knows this too. Christ, he’s in his mid-thirties. He should know how this shit works by now.

Isn’t it still the most mortifying thing on the planet though, ladies? Honestly, I’ve not even farted in front of him yet and my vagina has gone all trumpet-playing on his ass. What the fuck? Why did this have to happen?

What are you supposed to do when you love puff? Are you meant to ignore it and hope that he does too? But then what happens if you ignore it and he laughs? Or even worse than that – recoils in disgust? Do you laugh it off and show you have a sense of humor about the whole thing? What if you laugh and he doesn’t?

Do you have a love puff survival guide? What do you do? As much as you don’t want to talk about it, come on; admit it happens and tell me how you deal with it. Thankfully, we got over it and despite the fact the noise repeats in my head and I get all embarrassed from time to time, I don’t think it has affected our relationship. Luckily, he hasn’t even made it into a joke which I think shows true restraint on his side. I am impressed by this.

I know that I keep going back to this whole “small penis” thing, which to be fair is a little on the harsh side. He is hardly smaller than average – just smaller than I’m used to. I think I’ve mentioned before that I’ve been pretty spoilt in the penis department. However, I think the fact that he is smaller than I’m used to has a lot to do with the problems that we have come across so far in the bedroom. Or out of it. If he had been anyone else, I wouldn’t still be hanging around. Would I? I’m pretty shallow. Sex is very important to me. I would have imagined our problems would have put me off. But they haven’t – we have just worked on solutions.

But anyway. There you have it. The love puff. Ugh, cringe!

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