"You seriously bought a sex blanket?" I teased him, skeptical once again.
He shrugged, grinning sheepishly. "Just thought we could give it another shot."
And so we did.
That night, as we unfolded the LoveBlanket over our bed, I rolled my eyes, still half-expecting another epic disaster. But then, as things heated up, I found myself truly letting go again. This time, I didn’t feel anxious, I felt free.
When the big moment arrived, it was every bit as incredible as the first time. But afterward, instead of panic, there was just us, laughing like idiots, wrapped comfortably together in our perfectly dry bed. Not a drop had leaked through.
It sounds silly, but that blanket genuinely changed everything for us. Without the fear of mess or shame holding me back, intimacy became even more powerful, exciting, and spontaneous. Our connection deepened because suddenly we could focus completely on each other, not on laundry and embarrassment.
I went from being grossed out by squirting to embracing it fully as an amazing part of my sexuality, all thanks to Alex’s persistence, some hilarious trial-and-error, and yes, one surprisingly helpful blanket.
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