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Hey,
Everybody: By now you’ve no doubt heard the news that America’s
favorite crystal-meth-snorting, male-escort-blowing evangelical
Christian pastor is cured! While 99.9 percent of wannabe ex-gays
struggle to overcome their homosexuality for decades, Ted
Haggard was pronounced “completely heterosexual” after just
21 days of counseling! Don’t you just love a happy ending?
I’d love to devote a whole column to Haggard—there’s just
so much to process. For instance, according to the ministers
overseeing Haggard’s treatment, Ted was able to “discover”
his complete heterosexuality so quickly because his homosexual
activity was never “constant.” By that standard I’ve been
completely heterosexual since, gee, about 10 minutes after
2 this morning.
Yippee! I’m completely heterosexual, too! And as everyone
knows, once you’re completely heterosexual all your troubles
are over. Just ask San Francisco mayor Gavin Newsom.
But that’s all the space I can waste on that yam-faced faggot.
Because it’s Valentine’s Day—or it just was, depending on
when you’re reading this—and to counter the impression that
fetishes and impulsive hookups always lead to conflict and
heartache, I asked vanilla types contentedly partnered with
kinky motherfuckers and vice versa, along with anyone who
ever took a chance on an anonymous piece of ass and wound
up marrying it, to send me their happy-endings stories. In
honor of Ted Haggard, this week’s happy endings are completely
heterosexual. Happy Valentine’s Day.
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I met an awesome guy by taking a chance and asking a complete
stranger for his phone number. After three weeks of dating
Mr. Perfect, we had the sex conversation. I’ve always been
GGG, but I had limits: no piss, poop, blood, kids, or animals.
Then I found out Mr. Perfect likes to pee his pants and wanted
me to do it with him. I gave it some thought, decided it was
harmless, and that I was willing to try it. It’s taken some
getting used to, but I’m actually starting to enjoy peeing
my pants. More importantly, I get off on the fact that he
gets off on it so much. It’s been seven months and we are
still completely retarded for each other.
—Pee
Is Sorta Sexy
I’m
a straight male crossdressing sissy and even though it was
one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, I told my wife about
it before we had a lot invested in the relationship. We’ve
been together five years and I never imagined being this happy.
I blog about our life at sweatshopsissy.wordpress.com
—Sweat
Shop Sissy
I
was a stripper who spent an awful lot of time trying to make
the other girls understand that the man of their dreams was
not going to be tucking dollar bills into their G-strings
at the club. Then one night I was on stage, boobs in the breeze,
when this guy walked in. I froze. When I recovered enough
to finish my set, I went and bought the guy a drink. Wow,
he was actually nice—and smart and funny! And hot! He bought
a VIP dance and I actually came just dancing for him. I refused
to go out with him out of sheer terror of the chemistry, but
he hung in there—despite his friends telling him the girl
of his dreams was not hanging upside down topless from a brass
pole! We went on our first date two months later, much to
the amusement of my cohorts, who took great glee in taunting
me. We married two years later. Our sixth wedding anniversary
was in January.
—Long
Odds Paid Off
I was on the anal-sex channel on IRC, telling everyone about
the webcam I had set up at work to watch over the crack alley
across the street. This woman immediately messaged me and
asked, “You work at —, don’t you? I used to work there, too!
I know that crack alley!”
She invited me out to a bar across the street and we started
dating shortly after that. Well, it turned out that not only
was she into anal sex, but pegging as well. We’ve been the
very model of what it means to be GGG. I introduced her to
BDSM; she introduced me to group sex. We’ve been married for
three years now and had our first kid on Dec. 3.
—We
Owe It All To Crack Alley
This is the true confession of a vanilla girl (VG) who took
a chance on a kinky boy (KB).
I was a shy, 18-year-old virgin. KB was wise enough to let
out his kinky side a little at a time, starting with new positions.
(I actually thought missionary was the only physically possible
way to have sex.) Over three years, he revealed a laundry
list of kinks: BDSM, swinging, anal, earning money by homosexual
favors, and three- (or more) ways. Each revelation left me
wondering what I was getting into, but I always jumped in
and never had any regrets. We eventually got married over
the protests of everyone we knew.
Seventeen years later, we are proud parents and still very
much in love. While writing this, I asked KB why he took a
chance on a VG. I had always assumed he enjoyed corrupting
my innocence. But he said that I was a steadying force in
his wild life, and that he would have died young doing something
too risky if he didn’t find a way to settle down. Call me
crazy, but I find his answer romantic.
—Vanilla
Girl Loves Kinky Boy
I’m
a girl in my mid-20s. Over the course of a few years, I’ve
succeeded in turning a thoroughly vanilla guy into a spankophile
who’s happy to tie me up, crop me, pull my hair, and order
me around. He’s not a real sadist, he says, but it turns him
on to see me so turned on. What a sweetheart! We’ve even seen
a couple of professional mistresses together so that he could
learn a few tricks. Yum. And my last two presents from him
were a paddle and an engagement ring.
—Ode
To Kink
I’m
a mostly het white boy, she was a fundamentalist Christian.
When we first met, she was still “no sex till marriage” and
trying to save me. Maybe it was the repression of her upbringing,
but damn that girl was willing! We tried role-play, toys in
abundance, cock rings, hardcore porn, ATM, sex in public.
We even did a couple of group scenes. I loved sitting next
to her in church singing the praises of Jebus after a wild
Saturday night.
The happy ending? Five years on, she’s happily married to
a nice Christian boy with a kid on the way, and we’re still
friends.
—Happy
Christian Corrupter
Okay, those were the straight happy endings—the ones I could
fit in the column. There are tons more at www.thestranger.com/savage/heterohappyendings.
In next week’s Savage Love, shitloads of completely queer
happy endings, also in honor of Ted Haggard.
mail@savagelove.net
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