Every couple who has sex without using condoms is familiar with a nasty phenomenon that occurs post-boning. It’s so commonplace that most people can make jokes about it without many quizzical looks or questions unless, of course, you shout it out in a kids museum, in which case it probably takes on a whole new perverted meaning. But THAT is neither here nor there.

That’s right, The Internet, I’m talking about The Dreaded Wet Spot.

This occurs so frequently to me that I have tried to position myself while having sex on The Daver’s side of the bed. This way, when I make my frantic run of shame to the bathroom immediately post-ejaculation, the residual is left for my loving fiance to sleep atop of.

Because I am a very, very nice person.

I’m not really sure what it is that makes the Wet Spot so damn gross to sleep on. I mean, semen itself isn’t exactly awesome, but it’s also not that sick either. It reminds me a lot of pennies and dishwasher detergent, neither of which are all that grody, and plus, if I’m covered in The Spooge, it means I just got laid, which is always full of The Awesome.

But there is something so fundamentally disgusting about the wet spot that kind of astounds me, who is grossed out by so very little. I’m training to be a nurse, for God’s sake, and it’s not poo or anything. I guess it’s cold, and slimy, and sticky and if you fall asleep on it, you’re kinda stuck to that particular stretch of sheet/mattress, trapped on the sheets until your bedmate chooses to pull you off of it.

IF your bed mate is kind enough to pull you off of that, I suppose I should say.

Well, the moral of the story is that last night, I lost the battle with the Wet Spot to totally destroy all Wet Spots. It was truly a sight to behold. And un-luckily, and the reason I’m writing this post, is because it was centered directly on my side of the bed. My back has the strangest crick in it because I spent most of the night arranging myself into positions that didn’t allow too much of my skin contact with the disgusting puddle I nicknamed Lake Spoogekins.

Normally, when I nickname things, even gross things, like Stinky The Skunk, it’s because I love it so very much and I want to keep it forever and ever in a jar under my bed because I am so full of The Love for it.

Not this time, tho. I would punch that Wet Spot in the fucking face if I could.


Comments = full of the awesome. Like gravy. I can haz an RSS RSS feed .

8 Responses to The Wet Spot

  • tonya says:

    have you tried putting down a towel either before or after. before, no wet spot. after, at least you don’t have to feel it. it works.

  • Sasha Macdonald says:

    I suggest plastic sheets and a bottle of baby oil, you’ll never notice the wet spot again.

  • Emma says:


  • Ok, this was hysterical. And I liked the very first post: we were born in the same year and we have the same blog-reading habits… Uncanny, huh?

    Anyhoo, made Hubs read this and he snorted beer through his nose. Nice. It was full of The Awesome to watch.

    (PS. He also laughed cause I do the same thing and make him sleep in the wet spot. Except very rarely when I forget. Which is full of The Bullshit.)

  • Pingback: Finally. A Happy Period. | | Mommy Wants VodkaMommy Wants Vodka

  • Scrappy Moose says:

    I’ve made a practice of doing “clean up on aisle one!” We make sure to have a towel or t-shirt right by us for when we’re finished, and just grab it and clean up when I pull out. It leaves no wet spot, and doesn’t require her to “make [a] frantic run of shame to the bathroom.”

  • yah! says:

    You bettah smell that butt!

  • Emily says:

    I know exactly what you mean! My BF refuses to use a condom, and so he either pulls out and finishes all over my breasts or face, or climaxes inside me. Problem is, he ejaculates like a hose / horse. I am amazed at how much semen spurts out of his penis. So this means I am left lying in literally a puddle of slimy cum, while he just rolls over and goes to sleep. I am dripping for the next day no matter how much I squat over the toilet to let the stuff drain out. I guess its all part of the fun of being female. Ho hum.

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