If These Lips Could Talk #3

If these lips could talk is a new feature with the aim to demystify and talk about all things weird, wonderful and worrisome when it comes to our bodies, focused on the telling of real-life stories from our readers.

Awkward sex stories, empowering sex stories, romantic gestures gone wrong (or so, so right), funny thoughts that pop up at your smear test, eye-opening period stories, confusing boob stories, those little things that you wonder if other women experience, or straight-up bullshit that you’ve heard.

Whether you're used to talking about these things or not, let's share the 'Oh, me too!' moments and spit-out-your-tea-outrageous stories of being a woman together to start a conversation, share our experiences and normalise our bodies and what they get up to.

In the third edition of this feature, we're sharing stories straight from the doctor's office. These are real stories from real women, in their own words.


My boyfriend at the time and I had been together for about two years. We had discussed trying anal sex but never quite had the courage to actually do it. One night we were both out drinking and decided “why not”, as you do when you've had a good few double G&Ts.

We get home and were both VERY dunk, and fooling around. Then we get down to it. I remember him putting a condom on and it being kind of... ok, I guess. Not really for me but I can tick that off the checklist. He finishes and then says “where's the condom?” which I think is the least funny joke ever. Turns out, NOT A JOKE. I freaked out, ran to the bathroom and tried to... find it, with no luck. I'm half-cut, on the verge of tears, with a condom stuck up my bum and running through the mortifying conversations I'm about to have with some medical professionals.

My boyfriend is outside knocking on the door, trying to make sure I'm ok but I just want him to BUGGER OFF RIGHT NOW BECAUSE THIS IS ALL HIS FAULT (drunk me can be a bitch). Eventually the condom comes out in the normal way that things come out of your bum and no visit to the hospital required. Moral of the story... well, not sure really... don't freak out if you have a condom up your bum?

Bubbles and blegh

An – ahem – gentleman companion of mine and I once decided to take a shower together. Of course, the traditional way to take a shower is to get in the shower by yourself, wash yourself, and then leave. The sexy way to take a shower is to get in the shower with someone else, and then do sexy things to each other. It turns out, you have to be careful about the way you combine these two approaches.

We started massaging each other all over with soap – see, both practical and sexy. Then I started giving him head. When he finished, I swallowed – and then, a few seconds afterwards, experienced a powerful wave of nausea. I felt knocked back by the force of it, almost like I’d been smacked around the head.

For a moment I wondered if my paramour had poisonous semen, perhaps due to some rare disease that could get him featured in a Channel 4 documentary. Then everything went blurry and I could barely think at all. I stumbled out of the shower and stuck my head in the toilet, groaning.

The agony was mercifully short, and a few seconds later I felt the blissful contractions of my stomach as my body prepared to vomit. Burning in my throat as it came up, I opened my mouth and out flew….some silvery, glimmering threads of liquid. Gracefully, they dripped into the toilet bowl and floated – really quite prettily – on the surface. Along the threads were tiny bubbles. Soap bubbles.

Yes, in the throes of sexual excitement I’d forgotten that if you soap up a man’s genitals, and then immediately afterwards put them in your mouth, you are effectively eating soap.

Always. Rinse. First.

Bloody hell

In my first year of university, as well as it being my first year of having a boyfriend (and therefore lots of sex), it was also my first and only year of seriously bizarre nosebleeds. They just came out of nowhere and were really, really bad. It could be a hot day or when I was brushing my hair, but they were always extremely bloody.

So one day, me and my boyfriend are going at it without a care. I'm bent over, having a good ol' time as he's hitting it from behind and, all of a sudden, the mother of all nosebleeds strikes. I look confused at my hands and the duvet as drops of blood splatter everywhere. It doesn't take long for me to clock what's going on and pull away, but by this time the floodgates have open and blood is going EVERYWHERE.

I'm panicking, he's both confused and panicking thinking he's somehow hurt me and there's a general sense of chaos in my little dorm room (which is not en suite by the way) as blood ends up on the bed, floor and both of us. I can only imagine how horrifying it would have looked if someone had walked in at the moment! I attempt to cover my modesty with some type of clothing as I prepare to run to my shared bathroom, which I manage to do without scaring any flatmates. 

So there I am, now bent over the sink with blood all over my face, hands, streaming down my arms, legs and, y'know, everywhere. As I try to figure out what to do, my boyfriend runs in from my room (still totally naked) with my underwear and tries to help me into it, which was incredibly adorable but also not my top priority at the time. I'm pretty sure we didn't carry on after that.

Would you like to share a story that your lips would tell if they so happened to talk? Share them with us so that we can open up much-needed conversations and feel an empowering sense of togetherness!

Send entries to: sofaya@brightongirlmag.com. All entries will be anonymous. If you’re story is selected, we’ll contact you to let you know.

Artwork by Julia Misersky. Find her on Instagram @jm.illustrations.