Spicy food and “sexy time” simply do not mix. Ladies, if a man cooks spicy food for you, be very very cautious. Gentlemen, it’s safer to stick with Italian or something else. Nothing ruins simmering passion like the hellfire of spicy food. That valuable lesson was something I learned very early on in my college love life…
The guy I was seeing at the time, we’ll call him Jeff for the sake of ease, had invited me over for dinner. It was very early on in our relationship and I could tell he was trying to woo me with his ability to cook.
He prepared a mouth-watering meal of steak fajita soft tacos. He dressed it up with sour cream, cheese, grilled onions, and jalapenos…good grief it was tasty. The jalapenos, however, were hotter in flavor than what I was used to.
Dinner passed as well as it could, eating the tacos and both of us trying our best not to make a mess or get caught with a chunk of cheese dangling off of our lips (the sour cream got me).
After dinner, I helped him clean a bit and then we talked for a while before the inevitable occurred. Gentle kisses turned to a make out session and caressing above the waistline slowly migrated southward.
In the midst of being pleasured that’s when it hit…
It wasn’t a sudden pain but rather a gradual sensation that soon became possible to ignore. The rhythmic motion that was supposed to be bringing pleasure began to feel uncomfortable…almost burning-like. Not wanting to let him know anything was amiss, I stayed in the moment trying to pass it off as lack of experience.
The burning sensation in my lower region grew more urgent and throbbing and the pleasurable sensations dissipated completely…and that’s when logic kicked in.
Very calmly but firmly I pulled his hand away from my legs and sat up. I could see the confusion on his face.
“Jeff,” I asked with as much composure as I could muster, “Which hand did you use to pick up the jalapenos?”
He stared at me for a moment, completely dumbfounded, and then he realized what had just happened. With a horrified gasp he bolted up and enfolded me in a giant hug.
“Oh my God I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Is it burning? Oh my God. I am so freaking sorry,” he kept repeating, clearly mortified.
I excused myself to use his restroom and tried without success to wipe away the burning…it only makes it worse, in case anyone was wondering…
I sat back on his bed unsure of what to do as he continued to apologize and ask if there was anything he could do.
“I’ve never had this happen before,” he muttered guiltily, “I am so sorry. I’m trying to think what could help.”
Jeff hugged me, furiously thinking as I tried to man up and take the pain without too much complaint.
He must have been thinking too hard as he stared at me and quietly suggested, “You know, when I eat something spicy I drink milk…I have some milk in the fridge if you want to put some down there?”
…..Bless his heart….. I turned down the offer to splash my lady parts with milk and instead opted to be taken back to my dorm.
On the way back to the complex, I looked at him and laughed to myself. It had been the first time I had ever really done anything with a guy so naturally I had to get burned.
Being the sarcastic butthead that I am I looked at him and said, “You know, if you weren’t interested in seeing me again all you had to do was say so. No need to sabotage my vagina…”
Jeff looked back at me horrified and set off on another apology rant.
Needless to say, the date was eventful and yes, I did in fact see him again… with the condition that no jalapenos were used at dinner…