Covering Up!

A.K.A. Where on earth has it been?

You’ve just watched the latest show of Jerry Springer and discovered that perhaps sex could have an unpleasant side to it. After all, how long have you known this superlover of yours. And, let’s face it, to become a superlover requires practice, lots of practice. Just how many disease-ridden trollops did he learn his craft with, hmm? Okay, so a year and a half after you first took him to bed seems a little late to think about safe sex but, hell, who says you can’t make up for lost time.

The difficult part is presenting your case and having your beau agree. Should you surreptitiously just slip a Trojan on him when he’s not looking? Should you have the latex surgically attached to his nether regions for worry-free sex? Or perhaps you need to seriously reconsider your relationship because you just know his dipstick is checking out every sump in town. Never fear, Agent Double D.3 has risked life, limb and a million dollars of shares in the local prophylactic factory to bring you this special report -- Where on Earth has it been?

Agent Double D.3 reports:

1. Vampires: These fellas have been around for years. Before you were even born he’s had his share of roman orgies, naked druid sex orgies, er, religious rites. Not to mention he probably knew every whore in regency London by name and pubic hair type. Being dead kinda makes you immune to worring about things like AIDS, herpes and all those other little problems that score better on a scrabble board than on a date. But hang on for a bit and don’t immediately go for the emasculation/surgically-implanted-latex-condom solution. Being dead also means those little bugs and viral things can’t live in him either, though they can live a few short days on his skin. So, just as long as you scour his genitals with bleach and scouring powder every time before sex you’ll get along fine. If he starts to complain, well, that’s why you do it pantiless, of course…

2. Werewolves: The one thing you’ve got going for you here is that wolves mate until death. Unfortunately werewolves also tend to live a trifle longer than humans. Regardless, it means he will have had far fewer sexual encounters than his cousin the vampire. All you need to do is keep a handy thirty pack of condoms ready (that should last a couple of days) and insist on him using them. At least make him use them until the werewolf doctor has done the necessary tests and pronounced him clear. After that toss the icky things into the local recycling bin (remember colored condoms in the pink bin, plain in the white and bumpy ones in the red.) Does he feel unhappy with this state of affairs? Console him a little by tossing him a few pounds of prime rib and then artfully present yourself, pantiless and whipped cream at the ready, for dessert.

3. Ghosts: I don’t care how many condoms you buy, or how small you get them. There ain’t no way you’re going to get one to stick on this guy no matter how hard you try. Not that it matters much since physical contact isn’t your lover’s forte and even if he had a dozen lovers most bacterium will either freeze to death on contact or beat a hasty retreat to the other side of the hosts body. Be tactful, though. Your research may have determined his probable cause of death as a hefty dose of syphilis but it’s wise not to bring it up. After all, wouldn’t you rather experience the soft chills of lustful fingers than a dead man’s cold shoulder?

4. Invisible men: Don’t listen to him. Yes, we all know he is a brilliant, nay, genius of a scientist. In this instance, though, he is wrong. Just be cause he is invisible doesn’t mean the STD bugs can’t see him to infect him. Don’t be fooled by his elongated explanation of invisible condoms either. If he doesn’t wear his cover provided by you, he’s not getting under your cover either. Of course, once he’s been given the all clear by the doc, no problem. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to spray a little disinfectant over his bits when you start each lust filled session. A girl has to look after herself, you know.

5. Mermen: For some obscure reason merfolk appear to be immune to almost all of the regular STD’s. Your main problem lass, you guessed it, is crabs. And we’re talking huge suckers here not your regular run-of-the-mill guys. And watch out for those barnacles too. The best thing is to keep your legs clammed shut until you’ve performed the only known cure. Have him sit his naked butt in a pot of boiling water until you’ve cooked those suckers good. A year or two later, after he’s fully recovered, reward him with a special wine, dinner and pantiless evening. Crabcakes always go down well…

6. Incubus: Safe sex? Trust me hon, there ain’t enough condoms in the world to deal with this guy’s needs. Best if you stick with your friend Rosy Palmer on this one and let the rest of the world succumb to his disease-ridden blaze of glory. Who knows, maybe you’ll find a nice stable werewolf next time around.

7. Djinn: Mention AIDS to a djinn and you’ll find your living room suddenly full of half a dozen highly competent assistants. Let’s face it. You get a nasty illness, one flick of his tawny braid and boom, you’re in perfect health. As for catching an STD from him, come on. Have you ever seen a sick genie? (And yeah, we know all about those Persian dancing girls.) So trust him a little, or not. Either way he’ll be magicking those panties away from you in a moment's notice so why not go along with things and just enjoy. Do you really need condoms anyway?

Agent Double D.3 report ends.