7.16.09

by Dan Savage

You were recommended to me by an acquaintance familiar with your column and podcast. Lacking other resources at this particular moment, I have decided to write to you. I am a 20-year-old male, and as such have certain desires that almost all 20-year-old males have (desires of a sexual nature). However, I am deeply religious. Religion has been for me a source of strength in my times of weakness, a rock in the times of storm, and above all a home to return to when I have lost my path. In the teachings of my particular religion, to indulge the particular desires I am experiencing will condemn me to fates too grotesque to mention. I am rational enough to realize that there is no way that I can “pray away” these desires. My question is this: How does one prepare for a life of celibacy and solitude (as that is what is required of me to remain a member of this particular faith)? Based off of what my friend has told me, I know you have little respect for religious practices and beliefs. However, these desires are not exactly something I can talk about with other members of my spiritual community. And while I am currently seeking counseling related to other issues, I was wondering what a so-called expert on sex and sexuality would have to say.

Clever Acronyms Escape Me

Get over yourself, faggot.

If it’s possible for you to act on your unnamed-but-easily-identified desires in an ethical manner - if you desire to do whatever it is you desire to do with consenting adults who desire to take their turn doing it to you - this so-called expert on sexuality thinks you should crawl down off that cross and find yourself a boyfriend already. (“Pray away” the gay? I’m guessing you’re Christian, probably Catholic.) And if you experience a moment’s anxiety the first time you stick your ass in the air - pull the Jesus stick out first! - just remind yourself that things have been crawling on top of each other and madly humping away for 850 million years. Sex came first, then humanity (200,000ish years ago), then religion came along tens of thousands of years after that. Which may explain why religion, when pitted against sex (really old) and human nature (pretty old), always loses. Always.

If you’re on the cross, CAEM, it’s because you put yourself up there. Which means you’re not some poor mortal trapped between a cosmic rock and an existential hard place; you’re just another closeted cocksucker with a martyr complex.

Look, kiddo, you get one life, one chance at happiness. If it gives you a spiritual semi to fantasize about a God who created you gay but forbids you to act on your emotional and sexual attraction to men, knock your damn self out. But you can have a boyfriend and Jesus, too - look at the pope - you just have to do what people have been doing since the first terrified idiot invented the first bullshit religion: improvise. Find yourself a brand-new religion or sect, or jettison the bits of your current faith that don’t work for you. If you know anything about the history of Christianity - and it sounds like you don’t - then you know that the revisions began before the body was cold. No reason to stop now.

And finally, CAEM, there is no God - you do realize that, right? No hell below us, above us only sky, etc.

I’m an only child, male, born to a single mom. I’m about to turn 21, and I’ve been with a great guy for over a year. I may be in love. We both have steady jobs, and we want to move in together. He came out to his parents after we started dating, and now I think it’s my turn. Problem is, I don’t know how to break it to my mother. She’s a tiny Mexican woman who isn’t afraid of smacking me. I’m afraid to tell her. She always talks bad about the gay lifestyle because she considers herself Christian, although not the churchgoing kind. When and how do I break the news that she’s not getting grandkids from me?

Her Only Male Offspring

Your mom is my favorite kind of “Christian.” She’s not the “churchgoing kind,” as that would require some personal sacrifice on her part (of her Sunday mornings, at least). And she certainly didn’t let her faith interfere with her sex life (I’m assuming your conception was something short of immaculate*). But when it comes to other people’s lives, when it comes to your sexuality and mine, HOMO, then her Christian values kick into high gear.

How convenient.

Okay, HOMO, lots of us have come out to hostile moms and dads and watched in awe as they morphed into the loving, supportive parents we didn’t know they were capable of being. For some parents the process is quick, for others it’s slow, but it can’t start until you come out.

Now here’s when you come out: The sooner the better - but don’t come out to your mother while she has the power to harm you, i.e., if you’re dependent on her for a place to live or if she’s paying for your education. And here’s how: by U.S. mail. Don’t give your mother the chance to smack you. Write her a letter, include the contact info for the PFLAG chapter in your area, and tell her you’ll discuss this with her after she attends a meeting, not before.

Finally, when I came out to my mother, the first thing out of her mouth was, “I don’t ever want to meet any boyfriends.” She said the word “boyfriend” like it had been dipped in shit. On her deathbed, my mother told me to tell my boyfriend that she loved him (“like a daughter”). My mom came around, HOMO, and so can yours.

But not until you tell her.

My husband and I got married recently. His first pick for best man was his older brother, “St. Paul,” a seminary student studying to become a priest. When my husband asked, he started crying and said he had hoped my husband would return to the church. We are both liberal ex-Catholics. For a wedding gift, Paul gave us a book called Man and Woman He Created Them: A Theology of the Body, 700 pages of dogma by JP2. In the five years I’ve known him, he has rarely said more than one sentence to me, yet he speaks boldly in favor of the church’s most conservative doctrines at family gatherings. How much of his bullshit do I have to deal with? I’m a huge fan of yours, and I know that you’ve had some issues reconciling your own life with loved ones within the Catholic Church. Your advice would be appreciated.

The Schismatic

Man… so intolerant.

I’m talking about you, TS, not your brother-in-law. Don’t get me wrong: Your brother-in-law sounds like total douchedrizzle. But he has a right to his opinions and a right to express them. You have a right to your opinions, too, of course, and just as much a right to express them. When St. Paul goes off on premarital sex or the ordination of women or the gays and their Prada loafers, smile and tell him he’s full of shit. But unless you live with him - and I can’t imagine you would’ve omitted that detail - you don’t see him too often, right? Tolerate his bullshit - that’s what family does - and count your blessings.

And don’t complain about every word that comes out of his mouth and then gripe about how little he has to say to you.

* Note to Bill Donohue: Yes, I’ve confused the virgin birth with the Immaculate Conception. So sue me, motherfucker.

Download the Savage Lovecast (my weekly podcast) every Tuesday at www.thestranger.com/savage. mail@savagelove.net.

7.09.09

by Dan Savage

Here’s a hypothetical for you: You’ve been corresponding with a handsome young man who lives in Paris. You know him through a friend in France, and your friend has vetted him. He has offered to pay more than half of your airfare so that you can visit him in Paris. You’ve spoken to him on the phone, and hearing him speak to you in French makes your knees weak.

On the one hand, you can’t really afford it - and although he’s agreed to help you pay, you feel guilty for accepting his help. You’re also not working, and once you get a job you won’t be able to go. You live with your parents, and you don’t know how you’d explain taking a trip when you’re not working and technically broke. But if your parents disappeared into thin air, you wouldn’t hesitate to go. The trip also might turn out to be a crushing disappointment and a huge mistake. On the other hand, you might be passing up the romantic adventure of a lifetime. And he’s just… so… pretty.

Do you go?

Anxious Straight Girl

P.S. I am attaching his photo so you can see why I’m considering this. I trust you will not publish it?

You can trust me not to publish the picture, ASG, but anyone who wants an idea of what this boy looks like is invited to quickly Google “Gaspard Ulliel,” turn those blue eyes brown, take a moment to masturbate, and then come back and finish reading this week’s column.

Okay, ASG, hypothetically… I go.

I lie to my parents. I tell them a friend - someone they know, someone who’ll lie for me - lent me the money and I’m going to go spend a few days in France with my friend (the same one who vetted this boy) before I land a job.

But…

I wouldn’t be going at all if a friend hadn’t vetted this guy. And I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have somewhere to stay besides this boy’s place. And I would treat our first meeting like any first meeting with a stranger I’d met online: That first meeting would be in a public place; I would let someone know where I was going and who I was with; and it wouldn’t be an open-ended date, i.e., I would see him for lunch and have ironclad plans to hang out with other friends later that same afternoon.

I would also go to France with my bullshit detector fully charged. This guy is damn good-looking, for sure, but it’s not like there’s a shortage of good-looking French girls. So why is he pining away for an American girl he might never meet - I’m a girl in this hypothetical, right? - with so much French pussy at his disposal? Maybe he’s so smitten with me that French pussy won’t do… or… maybe he’s a socially maladapted leotard who can’t get laid despite his looks. I would be tempted to conclude that it’s the former, of course, but I would remind myself not to overestimate my awesomeness and to be on the lookout for signs of social leotardation once I met the dude.

And finally, ASG, if I went to France and didn’t hit it off with this boy, I would thank my lucky stars that my Internet crush lived in Paris, France, and not Paris, Texas, and enjoy the trip - and any other French boys - regardless.

I’m a 28-year-old heterosexual male with a politics question and a sex question. I’ve seen you on television talking about the shitty job President Obama has done on gay rights so far. My question is this: Obama said he was against gay marriage during the campaign. How could you support a candidate who sees your love as worth less than heterosexual love? I’m surprised that you were such an ardent supporter of someone who doesn’t believe that gay and lesbian couples deserve to marry. If I were gay, I’d automatically dismiss any candidate who didn’t support full equality for gay people. Hell, I’m straight and I’m pretty close to doing that.

Also: I recently slept with a women who squirted when she came. She demanded that I pull out when she began to come. Is there some reason women who squirt don’t want a dick inside them when they do? Curious if you had any insight on this.

Love the column,

Pro Equality And Chicks Ejaculating

P.S. Here’s a pic. Thought it might persuade you to answer my questions. Feel free to share it with your readers.

Thanks for allowing me to share that picture of your ass with my readers, PEACE, because if any backside deserves a worldwide audience, it’s yours. To see the photo, dear readers, go to www.thestranger.com/savage/peacebutt.

Now…

During the Democratic primary, I was fond of saying that I was “for Clinton or Obama or both.” So I wouldn’t describe myself as an ardent Obama supporter. But I was pretty in the tank by the time of the election. And like most gays and lesbians, I’ve been severely disappointed by President Obama’s refusal to move on the promises that candidate Obama made to the gay and lesbian community. I was willing to be patient, though - until the Obama administration compared gay marriage to incest and child rape when arguing for the constitutionality of the Defense of Marriage Act. That’s when I blew my big gay stack.

But that doesn’t answer your question: Why would I support a candidate who views my love for my partner as somehow inferior to his love for his wife? Because I’m not an idiot. Because I’m not a single-issue voter and Obama was better on other issues - on gay issues and every other issue - than his Republican opponent. Because politics is about the art of the possible and, I’m sorry, Dennis Kucinich just wasn’t possible.

As for the squirtin’ ladies: I talked to three, and all three said that the contractions they experience as they ejaculate are so intense - and so “outward directed” in the words of one - that they want everything out at once: their come and anything else that should happen to be in ’em when they blow their loads. Added one of my friends: “He had a squirter right there in front of him - why didn’t he ask her? She has some insight on it, no doubt.”

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY: The police in Fort Worth, Texas, marked the 40th anniversary of the Stonewall rebellion - three nights of rioting sparked by a “routine” police raid on a gay bar in New York City - by raiding a gay bar called the Rainbow Lounge. One of the men arrested, Chad Gibson, was so brutally assaulted by the police that, as of this writing, he remains hospitalized with a life-threatening brain injury.

Police Chief Jeff Halstead claims that the men at the Rainbow Lounge made lewd advances toward his officers and specifically accused Gibson, a slight 26-year-old, of groping one of his cops. This preposterous claim is contradicted by eyewitness accounts and photographic evidence.

We can’t let the police in Fort Worth use the Gay Panic Defense (“That fag touched me, so of course I beat him nearly to death!”) to excuse this brutal violation of the civil rights of Fort Worth’s gay community. If you’re on Facebook, please show your support by joining the Rainbow Lounge Raid group (www.tinyurl.com/lavecu). And please e-mail or call the mayor of Fort Worth - Mike Moncrief, 817.392.6118, mike.moncrief@fortworthgov.org - and demand a full investigation into the raid on the Rainbow Lounge and that charges be brought against the officers who assaulted Chad Gibson.

Download the Savage Lovecast (my weekly podcast) every Tuesday at www.thestranger.com/savage. mail@savagelove.net

07.02.09

I’m a 25-year-old straight female. I’ve been dating my boyfriend for only a few months, but we fell in love fast. He is a caring person, and I want to make this last. However, he doesn’t turn me on. It has nothing to do with looks - he’s GORGEOUS - but rather with the fact that I am submissive and like things rough (rape fantasies, being tied up, etc.). He is GGG and tries, but he is just too timid. The last guy I dated used to toss me around like a rag doll, and I miss being dominated.

I talked to my wonderful GGG boyfriend, and he agreed right away to have a threesome with my previous guy. I haven’t talked to the previous guy yet, but I’m sure he’d be into it. This threesome would allow my ex to do something really kinky, which I know he would love, and I would get the abuse I need and my boyfriend would get a “lesson” in the art of sub/dom sex. But…

1. Am I being a selfish bitch?

2. Is it a bad sign that he’s not satisfying me sexually at three months?

3. Thank you!

Needs Some Abuse

1. You have needs, NSA, and you’re articulating them clearly and thoughtfully; you’re being considerate and deliberate. And, yeah, you’re also being a selfish bitch.

Good for you.

You have a right to be a little selfish - we all have a right to be a little selfish - when it comes to sex. You have needs and you want them met and you want your gorgeous boyfriend to meet them. Why? Because you’re a selfish bitch, no question, but that’s not the only reason. You also want him to meet your needs - ably, skillfully - because you want to stay with him, NSA. Showing him how to meet your needs - even if that requires bringing in the kinky ex for a tutorial - is one way to make that happen. The current boyfriend agreed to the threesome idea quickly because he can see that. Take yes for an answer, NSA!

2. Some couples click right away, and some couples take some time to find their groove. My boyfriend doesn’t allow me to write about our sex life in any detail - privacy is his kink - but he will allow me to say this: The sex we’re having at 15 years is a lot better than the sex we were having at 15 weeks. So don’t despair that your boyfriend isn’t totally satisfying you at three months. We got there (within a year), NSA, and you can too (with some effort).

3. No, NSA, thank you. It’s not often that a letter from a straight reader forces me to go lie down in a dark room for half the day with a warm washcloth over my eyes. The threesome you describe is beyond hot; you’d be a fool not to go for it, and I’d be drummed out of the Brotherhood of Amalgamated Male Sex Advice Columnists Who Are Men (Local 609) if I didn’t urge you to go for it. This threesome will help your current boyfriend up his game, thereby saving this relationship, or it will provide you with memories that you’ll cherish for the rest of your life. (And by “cherish for the rest of your life,” I mean “masturbate about for decades to come.”) Either way, you win. Go for it, NSA, and please send a full report after it’s all over.

I’m dating a woman who happens to be another chap’s wife. He knows. In fact, he sometimes joins in. The problem is that he had cancer some years back. It’s in remission, but his immune system was hit hard. How his body would deal with various sexually transmitted infections is in question. Would a “treatable” strain of syphilis mess him up?

I love my lady friend - but since I’m dating around, we’ve started looking up info on the Internet about “safe sex” and have found a lot of contradictory info. You can get hepatitis B from kissing? HPV can sneak around condoms? Gonorrhea is starting to become antibiotic resistant? All this is making her feel like I might unintentionally expose her other beloved to something nasty.

My question: Does “100 percent safe sex” even exist? Is there any way to protect my lover’s husband?

Daunted By Threesome Reality

There’s no such thing as “100 percent safe sex,” just as there’s no such thing as “100 percent safe chicken salad,” DBTR. (Sorry - just saw Food, Inc.) There is only safer sex: use condoms when appropriate, have more sex with fewer partners, get regular STI screenings. That said, DBTR, hepatitis B is almost never transmitted by kissing, and there’s a 100 percent effective vaccine for it. And while HPV can sneak around condoms, there’s a highly effective HPV vaccine, too. And there are effective treatment options for those drug-resistant strains of gonorrhea you’re reading up on. As for your lady’s man’s immune system…

“If his cancer has been in remission for years, his immune system would be considered completely healthy,” says Dr. Barak Gaster, my medical consultant at the University of Washington. “Even when an immune system is decimated by heavy chemo, it’s amazingly able to reconstitute itself.”

But the only way to ensure that you’re not introducing an STI into your triad - one that you’re not already carrying - is to commit, for the time being, to having sex with only these two people.

A new euphemism: When someone cheats on a spouse, that should be known as “hiking the Appalachian Trail” in honor of South Carolina governor Mark Sanford.

But I have to say that this Adultery Confessional Theater is getting tired. Can our culture start to deflate the drama on extramarital affairs a little? Bill Clinton, Eliot Spitzer, Larry Craig, Jon and Kate, John Ensign, Mark Sanford: Yes, it sucks if kids are involved and it often leads to divorce. But I wonder if setting the panic bar a bit lower wouldn’t save more marriages. Maybe we should embrace the fact that few of us will remain monogamous over the long life of a marriage and remove sex from the pressured center of domestic life.

Anne In NJ

My reaction when the Sanford scandal broke could be summed up in six words: Dying* is easy; monogamy is hard.

I’m with you, AINJ, and I have hammered away at those points for years: At the bottom of all these sex scandals - Sanford, Ensign, Spitzer, et al. - is our unnatural fixation on monogamy. Human beings - male or female - aren’t wired to be sexually monogamous, and the feigned shock with which we’re required to greet each new revelation of infidelity on the part of an elected official, a reality-show star, or a sports figure would be comical if the costs weren’t so great. Elevating monogamy over all else - insisting that it, and it alone, is the sole measure of love and devotion - destroys countless marriages, families, and careers.

Which is not to say that people shouldn’t honor their commitments or that there aren’t folks out there capable of remaining monogamous over the five-decade course of a marriage or that the hypocrisy of assholes like Sanford - who called on President Clinton to resign during Monicagate - isn’t worthy of censure. But think of all the people who’ve cheated and gotten caught. Now think about all the people who’ve cheated and gotten away with it. Our idealized notions about sex - within marriage and without - are at war with who and what we are. Sex is powerful; relationships are fragile. Why on earth do we insist on pitting them against each other?

* Physically, politically.

Download the Savage Lovecast (my weekly podcast) every Tuesday at thestranger.com/savage. mail@savagelove.net.

06.25.09

I am a fairly successful man. I don’t make bank like Wall Streeters back in the day, but I haven’t been hungry since college. My girlfriend is younger. We met when she was in grad school. Like many recent grads, she’s not steadily employed, in debt, and driving an unsafe car. So I support her, house her, feed her, and pay her bills (medical, etc.). She needed to pay off her credit-card debt - 28 percent interest rate! - so she took work stripping and later as an escort. Through escorting she was able to pay off her credit-card debt in a month.

Now some guys would find this distressing, but I found it kind of hot. Here’s the thing: After she paid off her credit-card debt, she stopped escorting. I’d like her to continue part-time until she finds a career. She’s mixed on this. We would like to buy a house and make things more permanent, but our income isn’t enough to do that if she’s making waitress wages. I guess it boils down to this: I would prefer to be with a sex worker than a waitress. I’d rather she make $200/hour on her back than $10/hour on her feet. She says she has issues with sex work. What do you think?

Perhaps I’m Mildly Perverted

I don’t think it’s up to me, PIMP, or you. And I would hope that your girlfriend, who’s financially dependent on you at the moment, doesn’t return to sex work because she feels coerced.

But I can certainly appreciate your point of view. There are men out there who’re turned on by the idea of their girlfriends/wives having sex with other men; some men are turned on by the idea of their girlfriends/wives being paid for sex. You’re clearly one of those guys. And you’re within your rights to share this information with your girlfriend and to try to convince her to return to sex work. Because your fantasies of sex work - of her doing sex work - turn you on. And, again, that’s fine. But you could make a more convincing case, PIMP, if you were better acquainted with the realities of sex work.

You should start sucking off strange men for money.  
You’ll have to service men, I’m afraid, as there’s not much of a market for male prostitutes who service female clients. While lots of men fantasize about being paid to have sex with women, there’s a fatal supply-and-demand problem. Simply put: There are just too many men out there willing to give it away for free. That created a glut on the supply side, which has distorted the market, as there’s more than enough free straight cock out there to meet the needs of straight women.

So you’ll be giving head to dudes, PIMP. And after you’ve choked down a few hundred loads, you can go back to the girlfriend and say, “Sex work isn’t so bad!” with some credibility. And if you keep doing sex work after you’ve sucked off scores of men you’re not attracted to - men who may or may not have treated you with respect, men who may have very different standards of personal hygiene than you do - that might convince your girlfriend to continue to pursue sex work for your amusement.

Good luck.

Hello! I have been in a relationship with my boyfriend for about a year and a half. It is amazing! We are both very GGG, and it is by far the best sexual relationship that I have ever had. But there is one thing that has been bugging me, and it’s the only thing I feel like I can’t share with him. My boyfriend really enjoys tossing my salad. I enjoy it! We love it! Here’s the problem: He kisses me when he is done.

Now I am not one of these people who is grossed out about sex-related things. I love it messy and sloppy. If he kisses me after eating my pussy, I’m fine with that. But kissing me after he eats my ass? I hate it! It tastes awful! It ruins the rest of the sex for me! I’ve heard the old “Well, imagine what it tastes like for him” adage, but he really does enjoy it, and I do, too… just not the kissing after. I’m not sure what to do about this. I am afraid that telling him would offend him and that he will stop doing it. (I do like having my salad tossed!) Am I being selfish? Should I tell him? Suck it up?

Bad Taste In My Mouth

One never permits one’s boyfriend - or one’s youth pastor or one’s president - to place his tongue in one’s butt if it isn’t clean and fresh. Because when one allows one’s boyfriend to stick his tongue in one’s butt, BTIMM, one is vouching for the edibility of one’s ass. When one consents to having one’s salad tossed - are people referring to anilingus in that way again? - one is saying to one’s partner, “My ass is clean enough for your mouth. Have at it.”

It is entirely reasonable for one’s boyfriend - or one’s youth pastor or one’s president - to assume that if one’s butt is clean enough to receive his tongue, his tongue is clean enough, post-salad-tossing, to be received in the mouth of the person whose salad he has just tossed.

So are you are being selfish? Perhaps you are. But we are, each of us, allowed a hang-up or two. You should inform the boyfriend that you’re not into kissing after anal-oral contact. But you must present this news to him as your problem, not his, as a hang-up of yours. If he likes you well enough, and enjoys eating your ass as much as he seems to, he may be willing to take a few extra steps - mouthwash on the nightstand? A quick swipe with a warm washcloth? - to accommodate your squeamishness.

What is the proper condom etiquette for threesomes?

In my case, I’m a guy and it would be with two girls. Do I change condoms when I go from one girl to the other? It seems like that would be a hassle. It’d kill the spontaneity.

No Clever Acronym

First, a general point: Spontaneity is overrated. The best sex often requires advance planning; the more people involved, or props involved, the more planning required. Although threesomes, for example, can sometimes “just happen” (often when three young people “just happen” to get drunk), most threesomes require some advance planning (particularly when adults want to have them). Finding the third, vetting the third, establishing the ground rules, talking about safety, etc. - all of that requires advance planning.

On to your specific question, NCA: You are going to have to change condoms when you hop from one girl to the other. Unless, of course, you’re a total asshole and you only care about protecting your own health and you don’t give a shit about exposing Girl A to any sexually transmitted infections that Girl B might have, or vice versa. Neither girl should sleep with you if you refuse to swap out condoms, and you should remind yourself that, just as Paris was worth the hassle of a mass, realizing the number-one straight-male fantasy of all time is worth the hassle of swapping out condoms.

But you do have another option: the female condom. It’s a condom that she wears. I’ve used them - with dudes - and once you get past the slightly creepy trash-can-liner aspect of using them, they work fine. Stuff one in each girl, and you’ll be able hop back and forth to your heart’s content without pausing to change condoms. There’s more info about the female condom at www.femalehealth.com.

  Download the Savage Lovecast (my weekly podcast) every Tuesday at thestranger.com/savage.mail@savagelove.net

06.18.09

I’m going to say up front that I know I am a complete and total asshole.

I have been with my current boyfriend for about three years and we are living together. About a year ago, our relationship started to go bad when I found out I was pregnant and ended up having an abortion. Every time I look at him, all I see is this baby I didn’t have and I feel horrible to the point where now I don’t like him to even touch me anymore. I don’t want to hurt him. I just don’t see how I can carry on in this relationship anymore.

Compounding all of that, an old flame from Europe is back in my life, and I am still in love with him and I know he still loves me. This guy was my knight in shining armor in college but he had to return to the UK, so we couldn’t really have anything. But now the possibility is there because our lives are at a stage where we could move and make it work. I have no idea how to deal with any of this. The old flame looks better and better all the time and I am doing so badly here, but I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t see any route at this point that won’t end with at least one person in tears. Please help!

Definitely Out Of My Depth

Presumably there was a good reason why you decided against having a child with the boyfriend. Perhaps you told yourselves that it wasn’t the right time, DOOMD, but it seems more than likely you realized, consciously or subconsciously, that he wasn’t the right person: He wasn’t the man with whom you wanted to have children. Or perhaps the boyfriend was so strongly opposed to becoming a father that you decided to have an abortion - an abortion you instantly regretted and resent him for.

Either way, DOOMD, I don’t see how your current relationship survives.

And we haven’t even addressed the existence of the Euro. You still have strong feelings for your old college flame - clearly - and if you stay with the boyfriend for the rest of your life just to spare his feelings, DOOMD, your resentments will metastasize.

Again, I don’t see how this relationship survives.

But none of that answers your question, does it? You’ve asked me to identify a way out - a route out - that spares everyone’s feelings. Sorry, DOOMD, but I can’t help you. If you pass on the Euro because you can’t stand the thought of hurting the boyfriend, you’ll be miserable. And if you stay with the boyfriend, you’re only postponing his misery. Your resentments will grow and spread, like so many tumors, until they ultimately kill this relationship. If the Euro has moved on by that point, then all three of you will wind up miserable and alone.

I’ve been married for 12 years. Six months ago, I separated from my wife, and during that time I had an affair. Ultimately, I figured out that I couldn’t make a long-term relationship work with this “other woman,” and I am now working to reconcile with my wife. But the sex with the affair partner was incredible - not just because she was new, but because we were highly compatible sexually. The sex was energetic and adventurous in ways that it never was with my wife.

So now I’m worried that though I think my wife and I can rebuild all the other parts of our marriage, I’ll always unfavorably be comparing my wife to this other partner. (I should say that I fantasize often about the affair partner.) Sex for my wife and me was okay but not great before our separation, but I know we both want it to be a rewarding part of our marriage going forward. Any thoughts? Will the memories of my affair partner fade with time? Can I somehow use my affair experience to build a better sex life with my wife?

Can’t Shake The Other Woman

Maybe you and the wife just aren’t as sexually compatible as you and this other woman, and never will be. Maybe the only thing you can do, CSTOW, is focus on the other things the wife brings to the table, the emotional if not sexual satisfactions.

Or…

Sometimes we feel freer sexually when we’re with people we care about less. When we’re with someone we’re never going to see again (a one-night stand) or someone we probably shouldn’t see again (another woman), we’re not as concerned about scaring that person off. When we’re with someone who has “potential” - someone with long-term prospects - we tend to be a little more cautious. The stakes feel higher, and that can be inhibiting. We’re less willing to take risks, we’re less open, we’re less likely to act on our fantasies.

So it’s possible that your problem with the wife isn’t sexual incompatibility, CSTOW, but sexual inhibition. Have you tried fucking the wife like you fucked the other woman? Have you ever risked fucking the wife like you’ve fucked women who you’re never going to see again?

Sixteen months is way too soon to be discussing marriage? Really. Really?? How long are we supposed to drag out the courtship, Dan? While I agree with you that three months is much too soon, I’d argue my own personal case: My wife and I married almost a year to the day of our first date, and that was 26 years ago. So while your advice to Lady In A Relationship was sound, your blanket assessment of the relationship landscape overlooks those of us who have a brain. Jussayin’…

Mr. Right

Good thing I give advice for a living, MR, and don’t do binding arbitration. People are free to disregard my rants if they think I got it wrong and make up their own minds. And maybe I went a little overboard: Depending on the couple, 16 months could be the right time, or a right time, to start discussing marriage. Still, a long engagement is always a good idea, regardless of how long you’ve been dating. If you’re positive he or she is “the one” at three months - or eight months, or sixteen months - he or she will still be the one at three years.

My fiancé and I - we’re a straight couple - are getting married in July. We’ve lived together for four years, and as such we don’t need any more then we already have. We’re asking friends and family to make donations to nonprofits that are dear to us in lieu of traditional gifts. We’re both grade-school teachers, so the bulk of our requests are related to the needs of our students. (Shameless plug: Refugee Women’s Alliance and New Futures are two amazing programs that specifically serve students where we live.) We’re including Planned Parenthood on our list, and we would like to include a nonprofit that advocates for marriage equality. Which one would you suggest?

Soon To Be Married

Thanks for thinking of us, STBM, which is more than President Obama is willing to do: I would recommend that you put Lambda Legal (they’re lawyers, they sue) and Freedom to Marry (they’re advocates, they woo) on your list. Unlike most national gay organizations, Lambda Legal and Freedom to Marry do good work and get results. Thanks and congratulations!

Download the Savage Lovecast (my weekly podcast) every Tuesday at www.thestranger.com/savage. mail@savagelove.net

06.11.09

I am a 28-year-old straight woman who has been dating a 24-year-old straight male for two months. Recently, I gave him oral sex while he was seated naked on my couch. The next day, as I went to sit on the couch, I noticed a brown stain on the cushion that looked highly suspicious. I have come to the conclusion that it was, in fact, poo. The stain had a streakish quality and was located where his buttcrack region was placed during the encounter. And furthermore, I smelled it. And I know what shit smells like!

Okay, so the question: WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?! Is this normal for men? Can I talk to him about this? Should I? I would like to be open and honest with him, but how do I even broach the subject?

I suspect that he knows that shit stains are an issue for him, because we were recently packing for a weekend trip and he got upset when I went to fold/pack his underwear. He wouldn’t let me handle the undies because he didn’t want me to “see any stains.” I didn’t think anything of it, assuming that he left occasional skid marks as some guys do, and I just made a joke about my period panties and moved on. But now I am annoyed. He should have realized what had happened when I blew him and at least tried to clean it up while I was sleeping or otherwise occupied.

Is pooping on the couch a deal breaker? Or can we be “cleaner” in the future and protect my bedding and furniture somehow?

Shit On Furniture Annoys Girl A Lot

Seeing as he’s aware that he has a problem - he acknowledged as much when he kept his underwear out of your hands - this straight boy, at the very least, should’ve thought to spot-check your sofa after grinding his ass into it for the duration of that blowjob. But you have to take some responsibility, too, SOFAGAL. You encouraged this young man to plop his naked ass down on your sofa and proceeded to engage in the kinds of behaviors that would cause any man to (1) open his legs and (2) grind his ass into whatever he happened to be sitting on. And where bare asses are set, shit stains are always a possibility.

So I’d say you’re both at fault, SOFAGAL. Knowing what he knows about his own ass, the boy should’ve eyeballed your sofa and discreetly cleaned up after himself. But, again, shit stains can happen when you allow a nude man to sit his bare ass on your sofa, SOFAGAL, and commence blowing him. If I may invoke/resurrect a Rumsfeldism: Prior to this incident, blowjob-related shit stains on the sofa were, for you, an unknown unknown - something you didn’t know you didn’t know - but in the wake of this incident, shit stains are now a known known. And knowing what you now know, SOFAGAL, you might consider placing a towel - might I suggest a beige one? - on any sofa that you invite this man, or any other man, to set his bare bottom on prior to blowing him.

Finally, SOFAGAL, how to broach the subject? With a sense of humor. Sex can be messy, and shit happens quite literally sometimes - and not just to men. Women have assholes, too, and shit-stained panties are a documented phenomenon. Let him know that he tagged your sofa - try to smile when you say it - and then head to the nearest gay neighborhood to pick up some brown or beige bath towels. And, come on, how bad can it really have been if you didn’t notice when your nose was down there?

My wife and I got into S&M about two years ago, and it’s done a wonderful job of spicing up an otherwise very vanilla marriage. It was the odd happy ending to the usual doomed story of “husband who knows he’s submissive finally gets courage to tell vanilla wife.” We’re constantly upping our game - we went from pegging and D/s to flogging to hardcore beatings pretty swiftly, and we want to continue to push our boundaries.

Now we’re looking into electrical play. And our question is about cattle prods. Are they safe? We’ve seen a couple of BDSM porn movies where a cattle prod gets used, but we have no idea if these are prop cattle prods or the real deal. And are there any books out there on safe electro-stim play?

Sub Needs Some Shocks

“Electric play is a great addition to BDSM, but cattle prods are a bad choice as they’re not designed for use on humans,” says David X, an electrical engineer who used to work in tech but today designs e-stim products for Eros Tek. “There are several reports of muscle injuries and even a few broken bones from prod-induced involuntary muscle contractions,” David continues. “Burns and nerve damage are also possible. There really isn’t any way to make a cattle prod safe, but if you must, use it only below the waist and make each shock as brief as possible. Make sure the submissive does not have weight or tension on their limbs and has room for safe movement.”

And if you’re attached to your balls, SNSS, and would like to remain attached to them, make sure they’re not tied to anything. But, again, neither David nor I think you should use a cattle prod at all. David has a bias, of course, and would prefer to see you purchase something designed for use on humans - preferably something designed by him - but your bias-free advice professional strongly agrees with David: Invest in a product designed for use on humans.

“The best devices for BDSM electric play are made for that purpose,” says David. “They can deliver very intense sensations while being much safer than a cattle prod. As for books, you’re best off following the instructions that come with whatever device you purchase. This is another advantage of the BDSM products - they come with instructions for using them on humans instead of cattle.”

You can see David’s products at www.erostek.com.

I’m a 23-year-old straight female. I have been friends with this guy for the past two and a half years and would like to continue. Problem is he gets jealous (because he has the hots for me, but I’m not interested) and a bit distant whenever there is a boyfriend/date in the picture. I’m not sure if I should approach him about this or not.

Just Friends Jealousy

Maintaining a friendship with a man who has the “hots” for you when you’re not interested isn’t kind, JFJ, it’s emotionally sadistic. Maybe it’s thoughtless sadism on your part, but it’s sadism nonetheless. Because for as long as you’re hanging out with him, JFJ, he’s going to delude himself into thinking that he has a chance with you. And every time a potential boyfriend appears on the horizon - someone for whom you do have the hots - he’s going to realize, once again, that he’s a fool and, perhaps, being played for one. (How many times has he helped you move?)

Your friendship, while a marvelous treasure under most circumstances, is not a consolation prize for this guy. It’s a torment. He doesn’t have the strength to cut you out of his life - something that, if he’s reading, I would strongly advise him to do - so you’re going to have to do it for him, JFJ. If you don’t, well, you can’t claim that your sadism is thoughtless anymore. It’s overt, conscious cruelty - “mean girl” bullshit. And if you’re not careful, Garfunkel & Oates will write a song about you.

Download the Savage Lovecast (my weekly podcast) every Tuesday at www.thestranger.com/savage. mail@savagelove.net

06.04.09

My boyfriend and I have been together over eight months. We really love each other, and I see us spending our lives together. At least I did, until something he said a few days ago.

Long story short, for the last five months or so, he’s brought up marriage. Then a few days ago he informed me that he actually doesn’t want a wedding. When I offered a small ceremony with just immediate family and friends, he balked and said he’s not even interested in a courthouse wedding. I asked if everything he’d said before was empty pillow talk, and he said yes. He won’t give me any better explanation than that. Oh, and this was two days after we decided I’d be moving in with him, and he still wants me to live with him even after dropping this bomb! Everyone I’ve talked to, including my therapist, said the equivalent of WTF?!?

Dan, can you decipher this male-ese for me?

Lady In A Relationship

You were discussing marriage at three months?

The fact that he would bring up marriage so early, and the fact that you didn’t laugh in his face, disqualifies you both from obtaining a marriage license. (Okay, it doesn’t - but it should.) Three months - eight months, sixteen months - is way too soon to be discussing marriage. Sure, you can allow yourself to be swept away by new love, you can crush out on each other, you can sheepishly admit that you’ve allowed yourself to daydream about marriage - so long as that admission is immediately followed by this statement: “But I realize it’s way too soon to even think about it seriously…” But you absolutely, positively should NOT be making plans to marry, small ceremonies or large, courthouse or St. Paul’s Cathedral, at eight fucking months; nor should you attempt to hold him - or anyone else - to a premature “commitment” to wed.

Your boyfriend doesn’t have a bad case of “male-ese,” LIAR, he has a good case of came-to-his-senses-ese. If you’re lucky, the strain is contagious, perhaps sexually transmitted, and you’ll soon be showing symptoms yourself.

And a bit of bonus advice: Get a therapist who doesn’t believe that cashing your checks obligates him to tell you whatever idiot thing you want to hear.

In a recent column you wrote, “If you’re not having sex with your boyfriend, or anyone else, and there’s no sex in your foreseeable future, ANB, that’s not monogamy - that’s celibacy.” I have been with my girlfriend for almost nine years, living together for seven. We have never had sex. At the beginning we fooled around a lot, but for various reasons never went too far. Now, like many couples who have been together for a while, the frequency has decreased.

But for us this means we go beyond kissing a few times a year, and never all that far. I am mostly okay with this: I take care of myself as necessary. We never talk about sex at all. We’ve moved back and forth across the country together and are otherwise very committed. Is it ridiculous to leave sex out of the relationship?

Sexless And Seemingly Content

If you’re happy and your girlfriend’s happy, SASC, then I’m happy. Two people in a bad relationship can have plenty of great sex; two people in a great relationship can have little sex or no sex. Sex is a metric for assessing the health of a relationship, but it’s not the only one. When two people come together who love each other and are compatible sexually - which can mean a shared interest in sex or a shared disinterest in sex - the angels sing, SASC. All that matters, again, is that you’re both happy.

But are you happy, SASC? You say that you are, and I’ll take your word for it, but there’s a lot of wiggle room in the “mostly” in this sentence: “I am mostly okay with this.” You owe it to yourself to determine if you are really and truly okay with living without sex - and if the girlfriend is too.

I’ll add this to the debate over the threat that gay people pose to marriage: A fag saved my “opposite marriage.”

My wife and I had a huge argument about sex after she rebuffed me one night. She was shouting that she couldn’t stand the idea of me inside her because she felt like I was just masturbating in her. I shouted that we could stop having vaginal intercourse altogether for all I care because it was boring me, too, and besides, there was lots of other stuff we could do. She screamed, “Like what?!?” And I screamed, “Like oral! Masturbation! Role-playing! Whatever kinky shit you want!” There was a pause, and we both started laughing.

We took vaginal intercourse “off the menu” that night. After three weeks of amazing, mind-blowing sex, she called me at work and asked if I missed vaginal intercourse. I told her that I did but that putting it back on the menu was entirely her call. She got in the car and drove to my office, and we fucked in the stairwell. Sometimes you help people you don’t even realize you’ve helped. Wanted to say thanks.

Married O And Newly Surging

You’re welcome, MOANS, and thanks for sharing.

And speaking of marriage: Last week’s decision by the California Supreme Court upholding Proposition 8 was expected but, in the wake of so many recent victories, still saddening, and I’m getting mail from lots of unhappy people. I’m unhappy about it, too. But we have to remember that this is a long game, folks, and despite this setback, we are winning. We’ve heard a lot about Prop 8 over the last week, and we’re going to hear a lot about the fight to overturn it over the coming months, but let’s not forget about Proposition 22.

In 2000, California voters approved a law banning same-sex marriage. It was a ballot initiative, like Prop 8, but just a law, not a constitutional amendment. And it was that law, Prop 22, that the California Supremes struck down in 2008, in their historic ruling legalizing same-sex marriage. And voters in 2000 approved Prop 22 by a 22-point margin. Eight years later the same voters approved Prop 8 by just four points. That’s an 18-point shift in favor of marriage equality in just eight years. That’s extraordinary progress. A loss is still a loss, and a loss sucks, but the trend is so strongly in our favor that we cannot lose hope. The anti-gay bigots know that they’re losing this debate, and it’s why they’re so hot to amend state constitutions now, while they still can, while they can still count on the votes of the old, the bigoted, and the easily manipulated.

But they are losing and they know it.

Gay marriage will be back to the ballot box in California in 2010 or 2012, and voters are going to repeal Prop 8. Fundamental civil rights should not be subject to a popular vote, of course, and the California Supremes had an opportunity to reaffirm that ideal. They chose not to, they buckled, and so gays and lesbians, unlike other minority groups, face the challenge of securing our rights at the ballot box. That seems like a daunting prospect until you recall Prop 22 and compare its margin of victory to that of Prop 8. Again, we witnessed an 18-point shift in favor of gay marriage in California in just eight years. We can gain another two points in two. We just have to stay in the fight and constantly remind ourselves and each other - and Maggie Gallagher - that we are winning.

Download the Savage Lovecast (my weekly podcast) every Tuesday at www.thestranger.com/savage. mail@savagelove.net

05.28.09

I have a problem with my happiness; he is a wonderful man who has a beauty that overwhelms me; we have a beautiful home; I am monogamous for the first time in a decade. But I just learned that I am the spitting image of a man who is in jail for raping my boyfriend.

He says he is not in a place to dig up his emotions about the subject and wants to hold off on sex - fine by me. I admire him and his courage to be with me despite my appearance. I still love him, but I feel like there is something I could do to help him, to help us. So I guess I am asking for suggestions.

Asking Not Begging

First suggestion: Verify his story.

If you have a stunt double out there rotting in jail somewhere for raping your Wonder Boyfriend, ANB, then there are police reports and trial transcripts and a mug shot that looks just like you. Go find ’em.

I’m an asshole, of course, for casting doubt on your beautiful boyfriend’s dramatic explanation for why his wonderfulness can’t have sex with you right now - or ever, potentially, since he’s “not in a place to dig up his emotions” and wants to “hold off” on sex. But cast I must, ANB, because one of two things is going on. Either your boyfriend is making this rape story up or he failed to share hugely pertinent info with you before moving in. Whichever it is, ANB, your boyfriend is at fault.

Why would he make it up? Well, it could be that he’s not attracted to you, ANB, and manipulating you with a victim story allows him to reap the rewards of being with you while earning him a “Get Out of Fucking You Free” card.

If the story checks out - if you find that mug shot - then your boyfriend has my sympathies. But if he wasn’t ready to resume his romantic and sexual life, ANB, he had no right to be out there dating anyone, least of all a man who looks exactly like his rapist. When we date, ANB, we’re telling people that we’re in a place where we’re ready for love, romance, and sex. If we’re not, we have no business dating anyone seriously. Period. At the very least, the onus was on him to disclose this information - his rape, your resemblance to his rapist - before moving in, not after.

And finally: If you’re not having sex with your boyfriend, or anyone else, and there’s no sex in your foreseeable future, ANB, that’s not monogamy - that’s celibacy.

I am a high-functioning regular heroin user (not quite an addict), and I feel constantly compelled to hide my drug use. I feel that there are similarities between being a drug user and having an alternate sexual orientation in the sense that both users and gays are constantly confronting judgmental opposition from an ill-informed and puritanical American public. I wonder whether you have any thoughts on this matter. Do you believe that drug users are deserving of the same kind of empowerment and liberation as gays, or do you view drug use as a “disease” that needs to be “cured” the same way that the Carrie Prejeans of the world believe gays need to be “cured?”

I realize that one significant difference between heroin use and sexual tastes is that heroin use is illegal, but of course gay relationships were illegal until relatively recently. Am I just rationalizing? Or could drug use be the next civil-rights frontier?

Dude Requests Understanding Gay Sensibility

Uh… gee.

I don’t believe that all drug use is abuse, and I believe that recreational drugs can be used responsibly. And I believe a person should be able to use a drug regularly without being labeled - by himself, by others, by court order - an “addict.” I also wish that more people were open about their drug use - but, in the hypocritical fashion of most Americans, only when we’re talking about drugs that I like and have used myself, e.g., caffeine, sugar, pot, and my boyfriend’s pheromones.

Recreational heroin? Heroin seems kind of extreme, DRUGS, as recreational drugs go. I’ve known a few people who’ve self-medicated with heroin and functioned well enough to get by - just - and I think that all drugs should be legal, your drug of choice included. We need to end the war on drugs, a failure and a waste of money and lives. And the quickest way to end it is for successful drug users - people like you, me, Michael Phelps, and the president of the United States of America - to be open about our past, present, and future drug use. But I don’t think “drug user” is an identity that’s really comparable to sexual orientation. Using drugs is something you do, DRUGS, it’s not something you are.

Look at it this way: If you stopped doing drugs today, DRUGS, you’d no longer be a drug user. If I stopped inhaling my boyfriend’s pheromones - and cock - today, DRUGS, I’d still be a big homo. Because gay is like Cats (“now and forever”), while heroin is like Twitter (fun at first, sure, but you’ll regret it one day). See the difference?

But, yeah, the freedom to use drugs can certainly be viewed as a civil-rights issue: It’s about the right to control what you do with your own body, and that argument resonates with others advanced by gay-rights advocates and advocates of reproductive choice. But different drugs carry different risks - risks of harm, risks of overdose, risks of death - and, legal or not, heroin is a highly dangerous drug. It’s a drug that’s made more dangerous by its prohibition, sure, but it’s dangerous even when it’s pure. But I think you have a right to use it, if you want to use it, and that you should have access to safe, medical-grade heroin and clean needles. But I don’t think you should use it, not when there are other, better, safer drugs available.

Like my boyfriend’s pheromones.

I like that you told PILL, the teenage girl who didn’t like the pill and whose boyfriend “doesn’t like” condoms, to “enjoy outercourse, oral, masturbation, and sex toys - and tell your boyfriend that these aren’t consolation prizes for teenagers, but honest-to-God sex acts that adults enjoy.” But I wish that you had mentioned all the other kinds of birth control out there. There’s the Depo-Provera shot, the patch, the implant, the ring (which is very low dose and which many women prefer to the pill), IUDs (both with and without hormones), and cervical caps that can be used with spermicide. Also, there are many kinds of pills (from low to high dose, mini-pills, various hormone combos, etc.), and PILL should talk to a professional about which pills she was on and the specific things she didn’t like about them.

Some are much more effective than others, there are serious cost barriers to some of these if they’re not covered by insurance, and there can be side effects to any sort of hormonal birth control, but it’s good to be aware that they exist.

I also had awful experiences with hormonal pills, and it took years until I finally got a great doctor who took the time to explain all my options - and there are so many! I now have a nonhormonal IUD; it is fantastic, and I am grateful for my doctor’s advice. There’s a great “birth control effectiveness chart” at Planned Parenthood’s website (www.plannedparenthood.org).

Been There, Done That

Thanks for sharing, BTDT.

Download the Savage Lovecast (my weekly podcast) every Tuesday at www.thestranger.com/savage or www.outlookcolumbus.com. mail@savagelove.net.

5.21.09

Dear Readers: I regard this column as a sacred tryst. Your faith in my counsel and willingness to take me into your confidence moves and humbles me on a daily basis, and the seriousness with which I approach my chosen profession would normally prevent me from turning your letters over to a bunch of unruly drunks in a bar. But word somehow got around the bar where I retired to write this week’s column, and the assembled drunks insisted that they be allowed to share their hard-earned wisdom with you. So I printed out a few of your letters on the bar’s office printer - with names, e-mail addresses, and identifying details removed - and passed them around with pens and legal pads.

The American Heritage Dictionary defines “advice” as “an opinion about what could or should be done,” and opinions, as Saint Paul famously observed, are like assholes: Everyone’s got one (Esophagans 14:20). Please note that I don’t endorse all of the asshole opinions below - particularly when murder is recommended - and rest assured that I will be drinking/writing/drinking elsewhere from now on.

My wife and I have been married for eight months, and I love her very much. However, we don’t have sex much, maybe three times a month. We’ve seen a therapist a few times, and it hasn’t changed anything. I still love her, but my needs haven’t been met and I’m frustrated. Due to my frustration, I posted an ad on Craigslist - not to cheat but to just get some erotic interaction via the web. I only sent a few pictures back and forth. However, my wife found the e-mails. I apologized and said I never wanted to be with anyone but her, but that I just wanted to feel like I was desired. My wife has asked me to move out for a while, which I did.

Are we effed? I know what I did was horrible, but I want to make this marriage work. I love her, and I don’t want this to end it.

Confused In Salt Lake

• “Since you live in Salt Lake, I’m going to assume that you didn’t have sex with your wife before you got marriaged [hic], and so it turns out that you and your wife are incompatible. Next time, try the milk before you buy the cow.”

• “A lot of men make the mistake of initiating sex by just being like, ‘Hey, let’s fuck.’ Try this: Rub her shoulders, offer to make her a bath, give her a foot massage. Then eat her out, but don’t ask for anything. Do this for two weeks. Show her that you want her to enjoy sex. If it doesn’t work, sorry, you’re fucked.”

• “You have four separate problems that are now, through the magic of synergy, combined into one big one: Your wife’s not into sex, you live in Utah, your wife made you move out, and you’re using Craigslist (what the fuck?). Time for some radical honesty: Tell her exactly how you feel and what you want. Insist she do the same. Don’t censor. This will either finish burning your marriage to the ground or maybe - MAYBE - allow you to start dealing with each other like adults.”

• “Hey, Mormon Dumbfuck: She asked you to move out. It’s already over! HELLO?!?”

I have a submissive side. My first dominant girlfriend would face-sit me for an hour; after she climaxed, she would ride me until she climaxed multiple times, and only then would she let me climax. Eventually we were doing cunnilingus after intercourse, but when she suggested it might be fun to add “more sauce” to the mix - bring another man into our play, and this other man’s ejaculate - I dumped her. A similar thing happened in my next relationship. Do all dominant women think all male submissives are interested in bisexual behavior and being a cuckold?

There is a BDSM group in Washington, D.C., but the cohort for under-35s is tiny (I am under 30), and it’s nothing but fat women. I don’t want to pay, I work out, I have a salary, and I eat my lunch every day. I don’t need to be looked after. I am totally self-reliant, but I nevertheless want to be completely dominated by a woman. If the right woman came along now, I would marry her and make her very happy.

Should I be more patient and let her find me, or should I find ways to put out more openly that I am a submissive?

Where Are The Monogamous Dominant Women?

• “Where are your social skills, douchebag?”

• “You sound like a dick. Only sex your way or you dump them? WTF? Try meeting someone you like and slowly introduce the Dom/sub stuff. Right now you are SO demanding with your fantasies but unwilling to fulfill someone else’s. That’s a dick move.”

• “When I got to ‘I have a salary and I eat my lunch,’ I stopped reading.”

• “There is nothing less attractive than a ‘sub’ screaming, ‘Top me, Mistress - but not if you’re too fat or too poly or too old or if you actually have fantasies of your own or if you’re going to order me to do something I don’t want to do.’ That’s why you’re not getting any action, dummy.”

• “You suck. The end.”

My partner and I are in our mid-20s and have been together since our teens. We have similar interests and compatible lifestyles. We make an awesome pair. Unfortunately, we are not sexually compatible. Over time we’ve grown closer regarding most things, except for sex. I’ve come to realize that I’m kinky and nonmonogamous. My partner is decidedly not kinky, though she has said that if I slept with others she would NEVER want to know. That leaves a door slightly open.

I love her and am committed to the relationship, but I need some kink to be happy, and my outing myself as kinky has led to a steady deterioration in our vanilla sex life. Is it fair to put her on notice that I’ll be kinking out as opportunities arise and deal with the fallout as we go?

Seeking Orderly Solution

• “She said she would ‘never want to know.’ That is NOT an open door. That’s a double-shielded blast door with padlocks and a sign on it that says, ‘Don’t even think about it, motherfucker.’”

• “Putting her ‘on notice’ sounds kind of assholish. Have the big, awful, stomach-clenching talk about your future. It’s not fair to either of you for you to have to stay monogamous and be unhappy. You need to figure this out.”

• “Let her know that you are going to do it if the opportunity arises, but assure her that you’re just looking to satisfy your kink. Be sure to respect her desire not to know, but always be ready to divulge if she changes her mind. If you want the relationship to work, you need to be ‘allowing.’”

• “You’ll be unhappy for a few years if you leave her, but you’ll be unhappy for the REST OF YOUR LIFE if you stay.”

• “WTF? Get rid of the shit. I’m not talking about ‘leaving’ her. She’s likely to have some of your secrets. KILL HER. Everything you need is at a convenience store: shovel, lime, rope, large garbage bags, sympathy card for the family.”

Thanks for the input and insight, assembled drunks. And for the record: Murder is wrong. Dump her, SOS, don’t kill her.

Download the Savage Lovecast (my weekly podcast) every Tuesday at thestranger.com/savage. mail@savagelove.net

05.14.09

Over the past few years, my husband and I have realized that he has needs that I cannot meet. I do not begrudge him these needs, and I would fill them if I could. I want him to be a happy and satisfied person, not just for him, but for myself as well. We discussed opening our relationship, but our therapist recoiled at the idea. If I can’t help him and we can’t have someone else help him, what can we do? We can’t imagine breaking up, but if we’re both unhappy, then I can only assume that we will split eventually or one of us will act out in resentment. We have been together for over a decade and love each other deeply. I am physically sick over this situation, and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know that I fully trust our therapist, and I would like to hear an informed second opinion. I value your advice.

Life Decisions

Here’s an informed second opinion: Fuck your asshole therapist. And here’s a better-informed bonus third opinion:

“It’s incredibly unfortunate that some therapists either aren’t educated about open relationships or buy into common myths about them,” says Tristan Taormino, activist, author, pornographer, and author of Opening Up: A Guide to Creating and Sustaining Open Relationships. Way too many therapists, she says, “pathologize people who want to open their relationships and try to convince them that they have intimacy or commitment issues. The truth is you can be both intimate with and fully committed to more than one partner, or be committed to one partner and have sex with others.”

Tristan interviewed scores of couples in successful open relationships, and she found that many initially opened their relationships because of an issue of sexual incompatibility.

“The scenario you present is not uncommon,” she continues. “If both of you really are committed to giving it a go, I’d advise you to find a new therapist, one who has experience with—and not a prejudice against—nonmonogamous clients. The right therapist can help you figure out your limits, set boundaries, and make an agreement about this new type of relationship that works for both of you.”

You can also check out the stories, advice, and references at Tristan’s website www.openingup.net. Good luck, LD.

I’ve read and enjoyed your column for years and always found you to be well reasoned and kind. That’s why your agreement with Perez Hilton (and your reiteration of his comments) on Miss California was so shocking. I’m a straight guy with a lifelong gay best friend. I’m totally for gay rights in all respects. Still, it’s beneath you to call someone who disagrees with your position a “dumb bitch.” You’re better then that, Dan! Though Christian conservatives are either too scared or too puritanical to accept gay marriage at this time, it doesn’t mean these millions of people are dumb. Change takes time. Don’t you see that what you and Mr. Hilton are promulgating is hatred against a person for that individual’s beliefs, something you both claim to abhor?

Basically On Your Side

I don’t think Miss California is a dumb bitch for her beliefs, BOYS, but for her actions. (“Love the sinner/dumb bitch, hate the sin/dumb bitchery.”) For the record: There are lots of reasonable folks out there who oppose same-sex marriage, and I can interact with them in a civil fashion. Heck, I voted for an opponent of marriage equality back in November.

What sets Miss CA apart from reasonable opponents of marriage equality, BOYS, is her opportunism coupled with her stupidity.

I thought Perez Hilton went too far when he called Miss CA a “dumb bitch” after the pageant—and said so on my blog. But I started to come around to Hilton’s POV after Miss CA, despite having said at the pageant that she thought it was “great that Americans are able to choose” gay marriage or “opposite marriage,” joined a political campaign to deny marriage rights to gays and lesbians. Miss CA is leveraging her spat with Hilton for her own personal financial gain. Ghostwritten books, speaking gigs at evangelical churches, a potential guest-host gig on The View—beats work, huh? And so what if it oppresses gays and lesbians?

And that’s when I thought, “Hmm, I guess she is a bitch.”

And then came her interview on Fox News: “You know what, Greta? I don’t have the answers to everything,” Miss CA told Greta Van Susteren when she was asked about her position on civil unions. “I’m not running for political office. I don’t have the answers to everything, you know, in the world out there.” And when Van Susteren followed up by asking Miss CA “what [she] thinks” about civil unions and gay people adopting children, Miss CA responded, “I’m not a politician, so I can’t give you an answer to that.” So seeing as she’s not a politician, Miss CA can’t be expected to know what she herself thinks about adoptions and civil unions.

And that’s when I thought, gawd, she’s dumb, too—and that’s when I had to concede that Hilton was right.

I’m a 17-year-old girl who just became sexually active. My 16-year-old boyfriend doesn’t like condoms, and I don’t like what birth control pills do to my emotions and my skin. Now what do we do?

Pregnancy Isn’t Looking Likely

I’ll be with you in a minute, PILL. But first…

More stupidity and opportunism: Bristol Palin is now a spokesperson for an organization that encourages teenagers to abstain from having sex. “Regardless of what I did personally,” Bristol advised America’s youth last week, “I just think that abstinence is the only… 100 percent foolproof way you can prevent pregnancy.”

Here are a few other 100 percent foolproof ways to prevent pregnancy, Bristol, right off the top of my head: mutual masturbation, oral sex, anal sex (aka “saddlebacking” when practiced by Christian teens), outercourse, sex toys your partner can insert into you, sex toys you can insert your partner into, cybersex, phone sex, GAY SEX. There are actually lots of “foolproof” ways for teenagers (and adults) to be sexual and intimate without risking an unplanned pregnancy. It’s possible for a teenager to have fulfilling sex, and the intimacy and closeness and connection that comes along with it, without risking the “24-hour job and… huge responsibility” that having a baby entails.

Instead of telling teenagers to say no to sex—which will work about as well as telling them to say no to drugs—we should tell them there are ways to be sexual that carry no risk of pregnancy. But if they do decide to have sex, of course, they’re going to need to know about and have access to contraception and the “morning after” pill—and, yes, abortion services. But if we continue to present being sexually active as either/or—either abstinence or vaginal intercourse—we’re going to see more outcomes like yours, Bristol.

When you explain to nervous, inexperienced teenagers that they don’t have to jump right into full intercourse—that there are degrees of intimacy, and risk, and they can have enjoyable sexual experiences without vaginal (or anal) penetration—they’re often relieved. (And just imagine what we could have been spared—all of us, Bristol, from your family to Levi’s family to the McCain campaign—if Levi had limited himself to inseminating your tonsils.)

So, PILL, here’s what you do: Enjoy outercourse, oral, masturbation, and sex toys—and tell your boyfriend that these aren’t consolation prizes for teenagers, but honest-to-God sex acts that adults enjoy—until you and your boyfriend find the condoms and lube that work for you.

Download the Savage Lovecast (my weekly podcast) every Tuesday at thestranger.com/savage. mail@savagelove.net

05.07.09

My 14-year-old son just came out to me. He has a slightly older boyfriend, and they’re going to the school dance on Saturday night. I am adjusting to a truth I had long suspected. I am worried, though, that my son will get hurt. We live in the South—North Carolina—but our town has a gay community and an annual pride parade. When I asked him if the other students at school would be cool with him bringing a boy, he said, “Who cares?” Bullying is not a huge problem at his school.

We have had the sex talk several times, but I have always assumed a hetero approach. I think my son is too young for sleepovers with his boyfriend, and I would really like him to wait a couple more years before he gets seriously sexually active, though I expect petting and kissing are givens. Any advice?

Still My Son

Treat your son to some of that equal treatment we gay people are always going on about, SMS, and treat him just like you’d treat your 14-year-old straight kid. No responsible parent would allow his 14-year-old daughter—and that’s how you should think of him for now (more on that in a moment)—to have sleepovers with her slightly older boyfriend, right? So no sleepovers for your gay kid. Remember: You can be supportive and be his advocate without signing off on stuff you wouldn’t sign off on for a straight child—indeed, it’s the best way to show your support.

What else can you do? You can hover, scrutinize, interfere—all the crap that parents typically do when their children begin to date. For instance, SMS, this boy your son is seeing? Have you met him? Meet him. How much older is he? Find out. Are they messing around? Ask them. Make sure your son understands that he doesn’t have to engage in anal intercourse to be authentically gay, or all grown-up, or out. He can take things slow—he should take things slow. Encourage your son to date, to hold hands, to make out. And you should, as awkward as it’s going to feel to say so aloud, encourage your son, when he does become sexually active, to stick with mutual masturbation and oral sex for a good, long time—until he’s sure he’s ready for intercourse, not just anxious for it.

Getting back to the daughter business: You should also regard your son, at least through his adolescence, as more of a daughter to you than a son. We tend to be more protective of our daughters—our straight daughters—than we are of our sons. Why? A sexist desire to keep our daughters “pure”? That’s a part of it, sure, but there’s also this: Men are pigs, and people on the receiving end of male sexual desire/attention are in more danger than people on the receiving end of female sexual desire/attention. (In general—individual results may vary.) Testosterone is the crystal meth of hormones, a badass drug, and men are more likely to be abusive and violent. The prevalence of HIV among gay men makes the stakes higher for your son. So don’t allow him to date anyone you don’t get to meet and approve of, and don’t confuse “being supportive” with “letting him do whatever/whomever he wants.” Be active, be engaged, and never stop being his meddling, interfering, hypersuspicious dad.

Good luck, SMS. It sounds like your son lucked out having you as a parent.

I’ve been seeing this guy for about two years in August. We’ve been living together for six months now, and it’s been REALLY bumpy. We fight a lot, I cry a lot, and it just gets really messy. To tell you the truth, I’m tired of it. I work two jobs, and I never get any time to myself because he’s moody and insecure. He always wants to know where I’m going or who I’m with. He doesn’t like to do the same things I do, and I’m beginning to think this is all one big mistake. The problem is every time I try to leave, it always gets ugly. Ugly to the point that he’s thrown my stuff in the front yard, broken things of mine, and even called me names. He’s abusive.

As sad as this sounds, and as ridiculous as I feel, I want to make this work. I want us to be happy. And the thing is, I know that we can be. When we’re mad, it’s like World War III over here. But when we’re happy, it’s so blissful that I know in my heart with him is the only place I want to be. What can I do? People tell me it’s time to sever ties, but the people who usually tell me this are the ones who can’t stand him. How can I make a completely unbiased decision? Am I stupid for believing in a love that feels destined to fail?

Hopelessly Devoted To Him

This is not a relationship, HDTH, it’s a hostage situation. He’s a controlling, abusive piece of shit—listen to your fucking friends, HDTH. When your boyfriend breaks your shit, he’s making an implicit threat: I can break your face just as easily as I’m breaking your shit, bitch, so don’t even think about leaving me. And of course things are great when they’re great—that’s part of an abuser’s MO. If abusers were abusive 24/7—if they weren’t capable of doling out a little bliss now and then—no abusive relationship would last longer than one date. Like all abusers, he parcels out the good times, doping you up with a little bliss now and then, because he knows that these glimpses of how great things could be convince you to stick around against your better judgment.

The bliss is a con, HDTH, a weapon that he uses against you, just as much a part of the cycle of abuse as his tantrums, fits, and threats of violence are. Think of the good times as rainbow sprinkles on a dog-shit sundae—sprinkles or no sprinkles, you’re still standing there with a bowl full of dog shit in your hands.

Get a couple of friends to come over when he’s at work or out of town, box up your shit, and leave. You can’t change him. Go.

Apropos of nothing, Savage, you fucking suck ass.

You And Your Column Both Suck

Have I ever claimed otherwise?

And apropos of nothing, YAYCBS, I’m totally grooving on Garfunkel & Oates right now (www.garfunkelandoates.com), and everyone has to check them out; Perez Hilton was absolutely right about Miss California (she is a dumb bitch); Seattle-based artist Kim Graham (www.kimgrahamstudios.com) is getting centaur fetishists halfway there; and I recently visited the University of Georgia in Athens, where the kids asked me to come up with a dirty meaning for “between the hedges,” which is their football stadium’s nickname. Off the top of my head, I said, “The boy in a girl-boy-girl three-way could be described as being between the hedges.” But upon further reflection, I think the term is a better description of going down on a woman with a particularly hairy bush—and the tongue, not the boy/girl doing the tonguing, is “between the hedges.”

Download the Savage Lovecast (my weekly podcast) every Tuesday at thestranger.com/savage. mail@savagelove.net

04.30.09

Savage Love

by Dan Savage

I’m a 32-year-old, very attractive, very fit SWM living in NYC. I’m well-read and well-spoken. I march to the beat of my own drum. Friends tell me that my personality is intense. It must be true—everyone concurs. I’m extremely idealistic, and I count myself as a romantic. I’m interested in an intense and consuming love affair with a woman. But friends tell me that my approach to courtship and my energy scare women off.

I’m tired of fouling things up and making myself lonely. Yet, when a lady friend of mine, in response to my most recent upset, suggested I spend a night out with her where she would act as my wingman, I recoiled. Prowling for random women in a bar doesn’t fit my sense of romance.

Should I consider counseling to try to tame my personality? Should I just be myself and continue being lonely and misunderstood?

Wild Horses Drag Me Away

You don’t give me much to go on, WHDMA. It would help to know, for example, what exactly you’re doing—besides being all intensely romantic and extremely idealistic and physically fit and stuff—that scares women off. How does your “intensity” manifest itself? Without that info, it’s difficult to whip up some advice for you.

But I can do a little decoding for you: When friends say “your personality is intense,” what they typically mean is “you are an asshole.”

Assholes who have friends sometimes conclude that there’s something wrong with dating or bars or all the women and/or men on the planet because, hey, I’ve got friends—and if my friends can stand me, why couldn’t my ex-girlfriend(s)? But friending, if I may borrow Facebook’s proprietary verb, an asshole is easy; dating an asshole is hard. (Or that’s what my boyfriend tells me, anyway.)

A friendship involves a smaller time commitment; a girlfriend, if you could keep one, is required to spend much more time with you. Not only that, WHDMA, but people who are romantically involved with assholes come in for a higher degree of scrutiny. A person with an asshole friend is regarded as tolerant and/or indulgent and/or foolish. But a person with an asshole boyfriend is viewed as having a character flaw. Or several: lousy taste in men, the wrong kind of masochistic streak, low self-esteem, abuse issues, etc.

So, yeah, you should consider counseling to “tame your personality.” Your alleged virtues—extremely intense! extremely romantic! extremely idealistic!—may not themselves be the problem. But if the people living outside your skull have identified them as impediments to your professed romantic goals, WHDMA, then there’s something problematic about the way you’re expressing them.

And that lady friend who offered to take you out and act as your wingman? I suspect she was trying to pull the stick out of your ass and trying to get you to see that dating—at least at the outset—is about pleasure, not intensity. I assure you that bars all over the civilized world are packed with “random women” as interested in intense and consuming love affairs as you are. You might want to give them a chance.

A long time ago I experienced, late one nite, roasted, drunk, blah, blah, blah!!! This brother picked me up and drove me to his place and screwed me good. He said I was hot!!! I really liked it, had an anal orgasm!!! It was indescribable. I loved it!!! He gave me his number. But I was too shy to call back. Never saw him again. So I bought dildos and proceeded to fuck myself and get drunk or high (weed) every night!!! What does that make me? Closet drunk? Closet English cigarette? I like pussy, too! Whatzup?!

Anonymously Me

I don’t have the faintest idea!!!

My boyfriend refuses to have any kind of intercourse with me while my Aunt Flo is visiting. I’m not asking to have sex when I’m on my heavy days, just at the beginning and tail ends of my period. He says it’s disgusting, even if he wears a condom, and that it makes his stomach turn to even think about it. I find this terribly frustrating because my period lasts a good 10 days (according to his definition), and I have to go without any loving the whole time. And yet he expects me to blow him on a regular basis during that time. I love him, and I’d rather not DTMFA over this. What can I do?

Aunt Flo Terminates Erection Return

Only blow him on days when he hasn’t used his penis to urinate.

Because really, AFTER, how can he ask you to suck cock on days when pee comes out of his thing? That’s just as disgusting—it’s more disgusting—than a little bit of blood on the condom. And any guy who can’t handle a little bit of blood shouldn’t be asking his girlfriend to ingest whatever trace amounts of urine might be lurking in his urethra. But if he wants you to blow him—to keep him content during your period—then he needs to find a way to do the same for you. If he can’t bring himself to fuck you during your period, AFTER, then at the very least he can help you get off with a vibrator, or engage in outercourse with you, or mutual masturbation, or eat your pussy through a wad of Saran Wrap.

If he won’t do any of that, reconsider DTMFA.

I thought I knew what teabagging meant: to dip a man’s testicles in and out of your mouth. But during a recent conversation about the Republican teabagging craze, my boyfriend told me that teabagging meant to put your balls into someone else’s mouth. A person without balls, he insists, can’t do the teabagging. But many people I know think they are the teabagger and their partner is the one being teabagged. An internet search turns up both definitions. So, Dan, I’m asking you—as an expert on all things both political and sexual—do any of us hetero females have a chance of teabagging President Obama? Don’t get me wrong: I want to teabag the president for all the right reasons. I’m a supporter. I just want in on any political activity that involves Obama’s balls in my mouth.

The Earnest Aspirant

Let’s say you were in the West Wing with Barack Obama’s sack resting comfortably in your mouth. Perhaps you had done something meritorious—defeated the Somalian pirates, sworn in Senator Al Franken—and you were being awarded the Presidential Wattle of Freedom. The New York Times might report, “The president of the United States and a Savage Love reader were spotted ‘teabagging’ in the Oval Office today.”

But while you can teabag with the president, TEA, you don’t have what it takes to administer a teabagging to the president. To teabag someone, you need a scrotum with which to teabag them: The teabagger dips sack; a teabaggee receives dipped sack. It’s a little confusing, I realize, in that it’s the opposite of a blowjob: The person with a dick in his or her mouth is giving the blowjob; the person being sucked is receiving the blowjob. But language is funny that way.

Download the Savage Lovecast (my weekly podcast) every Tuesday at thestranger.com/savage. mail@savagelove.net

04.23.09

I’m a 32-year-old, very attractive, very fit SWM living in NYC. I’m well-read and well-spoken. I march to the beat of my own drum. Friends tell me that my personality is intense. It must be true—everyone concurs. I’m extremely idealistic, and I count myself as a romantic. I’m interested in an intense and consuming love affair with a woman. But friends tell me that my approach to courtship and my energy scare women off.

I’m tired of fouling things up and making myself lonely. Yet, when a lady friend of mine, in response to my most recent upset, suggested I spend a night out with her where she would act as my wingman, I recoiled. Prowling for random women in a bar doesn’t fit my sense of romance.

Should I consider counseling to try to tame my personality? Should I just be myself and continue being lonely and misunderstood?

Wild Horses Drag Me Away

You don’t give me much to go on, WHDMA. It would help to know, for example, what exactly you’re doing—besides being all intensely romantic and extremely idealistic and physically fit and stuff—that scares women off. How does your “intensity” manifest itself? Without that info, it’s difficult to whip up some advice for you.

But I can do a little decoding for you: When friends say “your personality is intense,” what they typically mean is “you are an asshole.”

Assholes who have friends sometimes conclude that there’s something wrong with dating or bars or all the women and/or men on the planet because, hey, I’ve got friends—and if my friends can stand me, why couldn’t my ex-girlfriend(s)? But friending, if I may borrow Facebook’s proprietary verb, an asshole is easy; dating an asshole is hard. (Or that’s what my boyfriend tells me, anyway.)

A friendship involves a smaller time commitment; a girlfriend, if you could keep one, is required to spend much more time with you. Not only that, WHDMA, but people who are romantically involved with assholes come in for a higher degree of scrutiny. A person with an asshole friend is regarded as tolerant and/or indulgent and/or foolish. But a person with an asshole boyfriend is viewed as having a character flaw. Or several: lousy taste in men, the wrong kind of masochistic streak, low self-esteem, abuse issues, etc.

So, yeah, you should consider counseling to “tame your personality.” Your alleged virtues—extremely intense! extremely romantic! extremely idealistic!—may not themselves be the problem. But if the people living outside your skull have identified them as impediments to your professed romantic goals, WHDMA, then there’s something problematic about the way you’re expressing them.

And that lady friend who offered to take you out and act as your wingman? I suspect she was trying to pull the stick out of your ass and trying to get you to see that dating—at least at the outset—is about pleasure, not intensity. I assure you that bars all over the civilized world are packed with “random women” as interested in intense and consuming love affairs as you are. You might want to give them a chance.

A long time ago I experienced, late one nite, roasted, drunk, blah, blah, blah!!! This brother picked me up and drove me to his place and screwed me good. He said I was hot!!! I really liked it, had an anal orgasm!!! It was indescribable. I loved it!!! He gave me his number. But I was too shy to call back. Never saw him again. So I bought dildos and proceeded to fuck myself and get drunk or high (weed) every night!!! What does that make me? Closet drunk? Closet English cigarette? I like pussy, too! Whatzup?!

Anonymously Me

I don’t have the faintest idea!!!

My boyfriend refuses to have any kind of intercourse with me while my Aunt Flo is visiting. I’m not asking to have sex when I’m on my heavy days, just at the beginning and tail ends of my period. He says it’s disgusting, even if he wears a condom, and that it makes his stomach turn to even think about it. I find this terribly frustrating because my period lasts a good 10 days (according to his definition), and I have to go without any loving the whole time. And yet he expects me to blow him on a regular basis during that time. I love him, and I’d rather not DTMFA over this. What can I do?

Aunt Flo Terminates Erection Return

Only blow him on days when he hasn’t used his penis to urinate.

Because really, AFTER, how can he ask you to suck cock on days when pee comes out of his thing? That’s just as disgusting—it’s more disgusting—than a little bit of blood on the condom. And any guy who can’t handle a little bit of blood shouldn’t be asking his girlfriend to ingest whatever trace amounts of urine might be lurking in his urethra. But if he wants you to blow him—to keep him content during your period—then he needs to find a way to do the same for you. If he can’t bring himself to fuck you during your period, AFTER, then at the very least he can help you get off with a vibrator, or engage in outercourse with you, or mutual masturbation, or eat your pussy through a wad of Saran Wrap.

If he won’t do any of that, reconsider DTMFA.

I thought I knew what teabagging meant: to dip a man’s testicles in and out of your mouth. But during a recent conversation about the Republican teabagging craze, my boyfriend told me that teabagging meant to put your balls into someone else’s mouth. A person without balls, he insists, can’t do the teabagging. But many people I know think they are the teabagger and their partner is the one being teabagged. An internet search turns up both definitions. So, Dan, I’m asking you—as an expert on all things both political and sexual—do any of us hetero females have a chance of teabagging President Obama? Don’t get me wrong: I want to teabag the president for all the right reasons. I’m a supporter. I just want in on any political activity that involves Obama’s balls in my mouth.

The Earnest Aspirant

Let’s say you were in the West Wing with Barack Obama’s sack resting comfortably in your mouth. Perhaps you had done something meritorious—defeated the Somalian pirates, sworn in Senator Al Franken—and you were being awarded the Presidential Wattle of Freedom. The New York Times might report, “The president of the United States and a Savage Love reader were spotted ‘teabagging’ in the Oval Office today.”

But while you can teabag with the president, TEA, you don’t have what it takes to administer a teabagging to the president. To teabag someone, you need a scrotum with which to teabag them: The teabagger dips sack; a teabaggee receives dipped sack. It’s a little confusing, I realize, in that it’s the opposite of a blowjob: The person with a dick in his or her mouth is giving the blowjob; the person being sucked is receiving the blowjob. But language is funny that way.

Download the Savage Lovecast (my weekly podcast) every Tuesday at thestranger.com/savage. mail@savagelove.net

04.16.09

My roommate is astoundingly hot. Her room is being repaired (the ceiling fell in), and, at her request, I’m letting her and her boyfriend sleep in my room while I take the couch. I’ve been able to contain my attraction just fine up to now, but the minute she entered my space I had this feeling that all bets are off. I’m considering spying on her with a hidden surveillance cam. If I had video of this girl naked, let alone being fucked, I could happily beat off to the footage for the rest of my life. Obviously it’s a breach of trust, and I’m a shitty roommate for considering it. I have a few concerns. Is this normal? Assuming that there’s no way she could find out and that I kept the video to myself and myself only, would it be so wrong? What is her reasonable expectation of privacy once she enters my room?

Thanks In Advance

Before we get to your tech-related queries, TIA, a word about a young man in Florida with tech-related troubles.

America’s current teen-sex panic—it’s always something—is about “sexting,” teenagers sending each other pictures of their sometimes-underage junk, their frequently underage racks, or their young and dimpled/pimpled rear ends. (Oh, if only we could return to the comparatively innocent and entirely fictional days of “rainbow parties”!) Shortly after the kids went crazy for sexting, the authorities went crazy for prosecuting kids for sexting. Take Phillip Alpert, an 18-year-old in Florida who got mad at his girlfriend and forwarded a digital photo of her naked to dozens of her friends and family.

This Alpert kid (he had only just turned 18) pulled an asshole move—the gaping asshole of moves—and he owes his girlfriend, her friends, and her family an apology, restitution, and a pound of flesh. (And I mean that pound.) A just, proportionate punishment might involve, say, nude pictures of Alpert being displayed on a billboard in Times Square. For a year. Instead, Alpert was convicted of distributing child porn and “sentenced to five years probation and required by Florida law to register as a sex offender,” CNN reports. “You will find me on the registered sex offender list next to people who have raped children, molested kids, things like that,” Alpert told CNN.

A message for concerned parents, outraged school officials, and teen-sex-obsessed prosecutors: We’re gonna have to either make it illegal for teenagers to own camsphonescomputers, or we’re gonna have to give them drugs to delay the onset of puberty until after they’re 18. If we’re unable or unwilling to do those things—technology is hard to contain, and delaying puberty could have unwelcome health consequences (although it would have spared Levi Johnston’s DNA from the ignominy of mixing with the Palins’)—then the intersection of horny teens and newer technologies is going to require us to rethink the simplistic application of laws that criminalize the possession and distribution of sexty (ugh) pictures, particularly in cases where they were created by teenagers, for teenagers.

Yes, Alpert was a douchebag; yes, it was wrong for him to forward that picture to embarrass and humiliate his girlfriend. But if Alpert is a child pornographer and a sex offender, so are millions of today’s teenagers. They’re all e-mailing each other pictures of their junk. Making an example of one unlucky asshole who got caught isn’t going to stop teenagers from sexting each other anymore than making an example of hundreds of thousands of unlucky pot smokers stopped people from smoking pot.

Okay, TIA, on to your question: While it’s normal to contemplate, even obsess about, something you know is wrong, secretly videotaping your roommate, even if she’s “in your space,” isn’t just an asshole move. It’s an illegal move in most places, and the consequences for asshole moves involving digital images, as illustrated above, can be dire. And until submitting to video surveillance is widely understood to be a known risk of sleeping in someone else’s bedroom, your roommate and her boyfriend have an entirely reasonable expectation of privacy.

As for no-way-she-could-ever-find-out, I could sneak into your house and use your toothbrush as a sound, and you’d never find out. And although it would hurt me more than it would hurt you, TIA, it would still be wrong—even if there was no way short of DNA testing that you would ever find out. And while you may intend to keep the video to yourself—such the gentleman—what if your laptop gets stolen? What if you take your computer in for repairs and someone makes a copy? Digital images—photos, video, whatever—are too easy to lose control over.

Don’t do it, TIA.

I am a 30-year-old female with a live-in boyfriend. While we’re not without our problems, the relationship is wonderful. My only big issue is that I don’t enjoy cohabitation. Before living with my boyfriend, I lived in a studio apartment, my little castle, and I relished having my own space. I would love to go back to us each having our own domicile, but I am afraid of losing him. And the thought of being “with” someone then going back to your own home has been met with such criticism by my friends that it makes me wonder if there may be something wrong with my relationship that I just can’t detect consciously.

But I want my own space. Is it unusual to want your own space?

Independent But In Love

I know a nice, loving couple—married, straight, with kids—who each have an apartment in the same building. The kids’ rooms are in mom’s; the meals are prepared and eaten at dad’s. They decided to live like this because, like you, they both liked having their own spaces.

You can do it, too, IBIL. But you won’t be able to have what you want until you stop worrying about what other people think and start being honest with your boyfriend about your preferred living arrangement.

As you’ve proven in the past with “santorum” and “saddlebacking,” you have considerable influence. So to reward the Vermont legislature’s recent decision to override the governor’s veto and legalize same-sex marriage in that state, why not encourage your listeners and readers to purchase products made in Vermont? And Iowa? Think of it: Your millions of fans could trade in chocolate body paint for maple syrup as the sexy edible substance of choice, all the while supporting this legislative victory and (we hope) spurring others like it.

D.J.’s Fellow Gayby

P.S. I have absolutely no stake in Vermont’s economy. I just want my dads to be able to marry one day in the state where my family lives.

That day may come more quickly than we think, DJFG, thanks to the bravery of elected officials in Iowa and Vermont. As for rewarding Iowa and Vermont…

Like most Americans, I consume way more corn syrup than a person should (that shit’s in everything), so Iowa is covered; but I will make sure the next bottle of maple syrup I purchase is from Vermont—but I’ll be pouring it on my pancakes, thanks, not my boyfriend. Food is for after sex, people, not before, and never, ever during. Food is not a sex toy, not even chocolate.

ATTENTION JOURNALISTS: The deadline for this year’s Sexies—the Sex-Positive Journalism Awards—is approaching. The Sexies recognize writers “who stick to high journalistic standards” while reporting about sex “in a climate of repression and misinformation around human sexuality.” More info at www.sexies.org.

04.09.09

I recently discovered, accidentally, while moving things out of my 16-year-old son’s room prior to a renovation, a cache of my sex toys that had mysteriously disappeared over the past year. While I’ve wondered how it was possible to misplace a glow-in-the-dark crucifix-shaped dildo (complete with Jesus in relief), it never dawned on me that it might be an inside job.

This raises several issues. There’s the you-stole-my-stuff problem, with responses available from the full range of the passive-aggressive scale. But the nature of the swag complicates matters. I kind of need to know whether he took them to snicker over with his friends or whether he has used them. I’m dead certain if he’s used my insertables, that he did so without putting condoms on them first.

So it seems I need to force the you-stole-my-stuff conversation in order to have the safe-toy-use conversation. Suggestions?
 
Discomfited Aged Deviant
 
You’re gonna have to have a long talk with the little shit, DAD.

First, apologize for snooping—accidentally, of course, during “a renovation.” Uh-huh. Then bring up the sex toys. Be matter-of-fact about it, DAD, but firm enough to communicate a sense of violation: He violated your privacy and your glow-in-the-dark crucifix-shaped dildo, a sex toy that was consecrated to your orifice(s) and your orifice(s) alone. (“Your orifice(s)” refers to your own personal orifice, DAD, as well as the orifices of your chosen sex partners, a position that is not—one hopes—open to your 16-year-old son.) Don’t let on that you’re embarrassed, even if you are—force a smile, if you can.

Then turn the tables on your son and embarrass the shit out of the little shit: Ask him if he was penetrating himself with your crucidildo, and ask him if he has any questions about sex toys in general or butt toys in particular. He’ll insist that he wasn’t sticking that thing in his ass—although we both know he was—because he’ll want to end this conversation as quickly as possible. Your job, DAD, is to drag… this… talk… out… to achieve maximum mortification.

Tell him that you’re aware that he might be too shy to admit to using butt toys or to ask for info about the proper use of butt toys, so… you’re going to walk him through butt-toy safety and etiquette just to be on the safe side. Then explain it all to him. Tell him about the importance of using lots of lube, of washing sex toys with hot water and a little soap after each use, of putting condoms over them for safety’s sake—and tell him about how one preps an orifice to accept a glow-in-the-dark crucifix (and just how many “Our Fathers” one has to say for penance after doing such a thing). Conclude by pointing out that sex toys aren’t something people share (particularly with their parents), so the one you’d been using, the one he stole and used himself, is going to have to be deconsecrated now, i.e., disposed of. Then offer to get him one of his own and a bottle of lube.

The point is to make him feel bad for invading your privacy and swiping your stuff, DAD, but not for whatever it was he might have done with your stuff. A nice long talk about butt toys—safe use, storage, ethical procurement—will make him realize that violating your privacy and stealing your sex toys invites conversations that he doesn’t want to have with his dad.
 
My wife of three years has a problem with me masturbating. At one point, we made a deal that I wouldn’t do it while she’s in the house. That would be just fine with me, except that she is rarely out of the house without me. Our sex is really, really great, but I’m pretty horny and I like to masturbate once in a while. She says that she feels like I’m cheating on her. About a year ago, I DID cheat on her—yes, I’m an idiot—and maybe this is my punishment, but I’ve always needed to masturbate a lot. I do it to relieve stress and sometimes just because I get horny and I want to stop being horny in a minute or two so that I can concentrate on something else. This just doesn’t have very much to do with her, and I feel stupid trying to justify myself to her on this matter. How do you think I should resolve this situation?
 
Jerk Off
 
When someone you love is irrational and controlling about some aspect of your private life that doesn’t involve or affect her—say, your masturbatory routine, JO—you have two options:

First, you can waste a lot of time and energy trying to talk her out of being irrational and controlling and idiotic. That approach is unlikely to make things better, and it could make matters worse: “Gee, you must really love to beat off without me around, seeing as you’re really going to the mat for this.”

Your second, and far superior, option is to tell her what she wants to hear—“For you, I won’t masturbate”—and then beat off when you want to or when you need to and lie about it. Beat off on the kitchen table when she’s out of the house; slip away for 10 minutes to take a “crap” or a “nap” when she’s home. So long as you’re an attentive lover and you’re not neglecting her needs, and so long as you’re not inconsiderately leaving evidence all over the place (wash out your own crusty come socks), feel free to work around her irrationality with a little harmless deceit.
 
I dislike a lot of things about your column: I disagree with your stance on religion and I’m against homosexual marriage. But I love reading your column: It’s like a car wreck—I have to look. So I have a question for you.

I am a 32-year-old heterosexual married man. My wife and I have a great sex life. We have been married just over a year. She is pretty open to just about anything, except ONE thing: When she is blowing me, sometimes instead of coming in her mouth, I want to come all over her face. She finds that repulsive. She normally has no problem with swallowing my come or letting me come on her chest. But for some reason, the face just creeps her out. She says it’s degrading. Now, I cannot for the life of me understand how unloading on her face is any more degrading than coming in her mouth or on her chest.
Any advice?
 
Facials Are Causing Embarrassment
 
Sorry, FACE, but your wife is correct: Facials are degrading—and that’s why they’re so hot. Now, I would normally arm a married man in your predicament with some killer talking points guaranteed to convince his wife to let him blow a load on her face, FACE, but… I’m not going to help you out. While being denied a little sex advice doesn’t compare to being denied the right to wed, I reserve the right to discriminate against straight married assholes who support discrimination against me.

Now, if there’s a married straight man out there who supports marriage equality and wants some advice on talking the wife into facials, I would be more than happy to share my surefire, fail-proof, 100-percent-guaranteed pro-facial arguments with you. And if you’re a justice on the Iowa State Supreme Court—which last week ruled unanimously in favor of marriage equality for same-sex couples—I’ll toss in a free phone consultation.

04.02.09

I hope you address the recent rough-play-gone-bad death of New York City radio newsman George Weber. According to reports, it appears Weber met a guy on Craigslist for “violent sex,” and the guy stabbed Weber to death.
It’s a reminder that if you have these kinds of fantasies—Weber wanted to be bound and abused—you’re better off doing it with someone you trust and not with some random trick off the internet. No one should wind up dead trying to fulfill a sexual desire.
 
Safety Conscious
 
First, I want to extend my sincerest condolences to George Weber’s family and friends.

Second, reading about Weber’s death reminded me of a joke—this has to be the worst start to a second paragraph ever—that JonStewart told on The Daily Show during the darkest days (er, years) of the insurgency in Iraq. Conservatives were complaining that a biased media wasn’t reporting any of the good news in Iraq, nothing about all those freshly painted schoolrooms or, um, all those other freshly painted schoolrooms; the news out of Iraq then was all bloodletting, beheadings, and car bombs, all the time.
“Yeah,” Stewart deadpanned. “We never hear about the cars that don’t explode.”

What happened to Weber was horrifying—what John Katehis allegedly did to Weber was horrifying—and, again, my heart goes out to his friends and family. And, yes, there are lessons in this horrific crime for anyone seeking sex and/or love online. But looking for sex online is not, as some have insisted in the wake of Weber’s murder, so inherently risky a pursuit that only a lunatic would contemplate it. Remember: We never hear about the people hooking up online who don’t get brutally murdered—and unlike cars in Iraq that haven’t exploded (yet), it’s actually relevant that most people hooking up online aren’t brutally murdered.

Every day tens of thousands of people—hundreds of thousands—find partners online. While lots of folks online are seeking relationships at sites like Match.com or Christiansingles.com, there are more people online at any given moment seeking NSA sex at sites like AdultFriendFinder.com or Recon.com. (People seeking relationships can find love the old-fashioned way, at work or by going out, and many do. And the ones who go online stop lurking online after they’ve met someone and appeared in an eHarmony commercial. NSAers, on the other hand, have better odds finding other NSAers online, and they’re always coming back for more.) If random internet hookups were even half as dangerous as crimes like this make them seem—if they were even one-one-hundredth as dangerous—there would be a dozen online-hookup murders in New York City every day, and scores more in Toronto and San Francisco and Miami and Vancouver and Chicago.

No one should be cavalier about safety when it comes to internet hookups, of course; people seeking NSA or fantasy-fulfillment sex online need to use common sense and take all reasonable precautions. Insist on a verifiable exchange of real names and real phone numbers before meeting; meet in person first, in a public place, preferably at a time when you can’t mess around immediately after your first meeting. And people seeking the services of a pro should go to one of the dozen or more established websites out there that host ads from pros along with client reviews.

And it’s always a bad idea to post an offer for $60 in exchange for sex to the crowd of fakes and freaks who have overrun Craigslist, as Weber is reported to have done. Meeting cheap whores via Craigslist ups your odds of hooking up with, say, a mentally unstable teenage “satanist” with a coke problem and a MySpace page packed with pictures of him wielding knives and swords.
Now perhaps Weber, working as a freelancer, couldn’t afford the services of $200-an-hour professional dominant; maybe he had lowballed it on Craigslist a dozen times before and always had good experiences. Most people who ignore my advice about safety, or hook up with cheap CL hookers, do live to tell the tale. But when it comes to realizing a fantasy that involves violence or helplessness, someone safe, sane, and expensive is more than worth the investment.

Finally, people take calculated risks all the time for pleasures less essential than sex. You’re assuming a certain degree of risk—of injury, of death—every time you get in a car, go skiing, or order the chicken. We do what we can to minimize those risks (buckle the fuck up, wear a helmet, don’t order your chicken rare), but we don’t hold up deaths on highways, slopes, or at the dinner table as evidence that people who even think of driving, skiing, or chickening have to be out of their minds.
The sad fact is that some of us will die at the hands of our intimate partners. Do what you can to minimize your risk of being murdered by a sex partner, because some people are dangerous lunatics—and not just internet hookups. Yes, George Weber took the wrong guy home, no question. So did Laci Peterson.
 
My fiancé is bisexual. I fulfill his “man-love” fantasies by strapping it on and giving it to him, but he has started talking about wanting to have sex with men. I feel like a jerk for freaking out about this, but I’m not willing to entertain the emotional and physical risks of opening our relationship to another person. Am I totally off base here, Dan?
 
What The Fuck Is Wrong With Men These Days
 
Do not marry this man.

Lots of bisexual guys are capable of monogamy, as are lots of bisexual girls. (That’s what angry bisexuals are always telling me, at any rate, in their angry e-mails.) But this bisexual guy is not, and he’s made that clear. He gets points for being honest—and I mean that sincerely. He gets points for telling you now, before the wedding, that being pegged, while wonderful in its own right, isn’t enough and that he’s going to need a little man-love reality now and then. You might be able to extract a promise from him under duress, WTFIWWMTD, and get him to agree to sexual exclusivity as a condition of going ahead with the marriage. But that will just result in you facing the emotional and physical risks of an open relationship without the honesty and accountability that can mitigate those risks.

And to the angry bisexuals: You know I don’t think monosexuals are any good at monogamy either, right?
 
My partner and I have been together for four years. Last year we sought to experiment with another couple via an adult website. We eventually found a sexy pair who we met up with, but the experience left me feeling unsure about how comfortable I am with the idea of the “swinging” lifestyle. I know my partner loves me and is loyal, and he’s messed around a bit with others since we’ve been together and that’s okay (so have I, also okay), but getting together with another couple was a lot more personally challenging than I thought. How can I get more comfortable and open-minded about this?
 
Swinger Wannabe
 
The problem might have been the other couple, SW, and not the swinging lifestyle per se. You could give it another shot, with another couple, and see if you feel differently. If you do and you don’t, well, then you may have to accept—or, more to the point, the boyfriend will have to accept—that synchronized infidelity just isn’t for you.
 

03.26.09

The two things that I dig most on a woman are a nice big pair of… swim fins. Some of my earliest sexual fantasies revolve around Jacqueline Bisset in The Deep. It’s frustrating to have such a bizarre fetish. There is a small subculture devoted to scuba fetishism on the internet, but it’s a total sausage/snorkel fest. One day I’m heading somewhere tropical like Hawaii, where I hope to meet scuba divas. Until then, what do you suggest? Give up my fetish and embrace vanilla? Or redouble my efforts to find one of the maybe half-dozen women in the world into this?

Fin Fun Fan

It’s amazing how the sight of something as innocuous-yet-titillating as the poster for The Deep can, if a young man lays eyes on it at just the right moment, endow that boy with a lifelong/love-life-complicating fetish. I ponder this phenomenon every time I see that ad for Old Spice’s new Live Wire body wash featuring an impossibly hot centaur soaping up in the shower. (While you regard your fetish as a burden, FFF, at least you can find scuba gear. Where are all the fetishists being created by Old Spice supposed to find centaurs?)

The odds that you will one day meet one of the very few women out there who share your fetish are slim, FFF. But let’s say you manage to track one down. What are the odds that you’ll be attracted to her physically? And emotionally? Slim and slimmer. Your best bet is to date women you find attractive, demonstrate that you’re a decent and loving guy who can enjoy vanilla sex, and then roll out your fetish.

Some would argue that withholding info about your fetish is dishonest. I would argue, however, that “withholding” info about a harmless fetish—FF just wants to play dress-up, he’s not into shit or shunts or shin splints—demonstrates a certain degree of emotional intelligence. Waiting until about three months in says to prospective scuba babes, “Hey, I wanted you to get to know me before I told you this, because I realize that it might strike you as odd. And while I’m kinky, I’m not obtuse or insensitive.”

I am a straight 22-year-old male who identifies as a crossdresser. I enjoy it, and I’m okay with myself. But my ex-girlfriend revealed to me that it made her feel like less of a woman and that I was doing the female version of emasculation to her. (Ask.com says the word is “femasculation.”) How can I work through this with my ex so we can get back together?

Bashfully Oblivious Ovary Buster

Either your ex was honestly threatened by your crossdressing, BOOB, or she’s doing what a lot of us do when a seemingly decent relationship comes to shit for no good reason: She’s looking for an explanation, and your crossdressing is the low-hanging fruit. Blaming the crossdressing allows her to rationalize the breakup in a way that leaves you both blameless, i.e., the relationship was done in by your panties and not by something that she did or by something that you had any real control over.

Can you help her work through this? Probably not, BOOB, particularly if she was actually feeling “femasculated.” You could agree to stop crossdressing, but you’ll only wind up doing it on the sly. You’ll get caught in panties and end up dumped all over again. And if pointing to your crossdressing was just a rationalization, BOOB, then there’s nothing to solve here, no way of working through this. Find a new girlfriend.

I’m a 24-year-old guy, and I just got a blowjob from (and gave a half-assed one to) a transsexual male-to-female prostitute. It was no accident: I’d spent about two years looking at TS porn (as well as regular guys-doing-it-with-girls porn), and the whole thing seemed like a hot idea. But the plastic-surgery scars around her tits and her cock in my mouth kind of made me nauseated. I went through the motions only because I didn’t have the guts to walk out. (We both had condoms on.

I’m not sure if I can face my girlfriend of a year. I’ve been faithful to her until now, and I feel like crying. I don’t know if it’s because it was illegal (prostitution), because I was cheating on her (unfaithful), or because I can’t say I’m totally straight anymore (cock in my mouth). I don’t know how to tell my girlfriend. She knows I look at porn, but she doesn’t know I look at TS porn—no one does.

Regrets About Gay Experience

Paradoxically, RAGE, going down on a shemale escort shores up your heterosexual bona fides. Gay guys don’t frequent and/or fellate shemale escorts (on purpose or by accident); getting with shemales is an entirely straight-male pursuit. So you can go right on identifying as straight, RAGE. Of course you aren’t totally straight—try thinking of yourself as something more than straight, not less—but you’re close enough that you can round yourself down to straight with a clear conscience. (Offer void the day you start blowing hemale escorts.)

As for the rest of your angst: If you’re serious about this woman, then cheating on her like this was a shitty thing to do. But you’re not married yet, RAGE, and now’s the time to get out there and satisfy any outstanding sexual curiosities—before marriage and before kids. And while unburdening yourself to the girlfriend may sound like the noble thing to do—honestly being the best policy and all—each of us gets to take at least one big secret to the grave. If this truly was a one-time, lesson-learned, never-again experience, let it be the secret you’re buried with.

Finally, RAGE, good on you and your escort for using condoms. But there are a whole host of sexually transmitted infections you could’ve picked up from her, condom or no condom. Make whatever excuse you need to in order to get out of having sex with the girlfriend, go get a full STI screening, and refrain from having sex until you get the all clear from your doctor.

While your response for To Rape Or Not To Rape is great advice to keep a horny guy out of a legal jam, you failed to consider whether the woman TRONTR is corresponding with is an actual consenting person. Just because TRONTR has couple of IMs, a photo, and e-mail consent to rape one janedoe@geemale.com doesn’t mean he’s actually corresponding with a person who shares his fantasy. He could be corresponding with a person impersonating Jane Doe. I have friends who’ve had personal ads placed online with their names, photos, and addresses imploring someone to abduct and rape them. The situation reeks of a setup, and your advice is irresponsible.

Poster Bitch

TRONTR indicated in his letter that he wouldn’t do anything with this person until he met her in person for drinks and verified her identity and interests. I encouraged him to get it in writing in addition to getting a verbal and visual confirmation, not in place of either. There are people out there maliciously posting personal ads; there are also people out there sincerely interested in rape and abduction role-play scenes. Anyone thinking about realizing a fantasy as extreme and edgy as abduction/rape role-play needs to get it in writing and from the lips of the person or persons with whom he or she intends to play.

Download the Savage Lovecast (my weekly podcast) every Tuesday at thestranger.com/savage. mail@savagelove.net