boyfriend and I are in our mid-20s, love each other, and have
been living together for two years. We have good sex once
a week. I have a low libido, and I always have. But my sweet
boyfriend needs more than once a week. Every once in a while,
he brings up the fact that he’d like to have more sex. This
conversation always goes the same way: He tells me, I start
crying, he feels terrible for making me cry, we both wind
up feeling like shit.
I’m pretty sure that the solution is for me to jump my sexy
boyfriend more often. But I don’t know how. I know I have
an inner vixen buried somewhere inside me. I would appreciate
any suggestions you have.
you’ve been to the doc and ruled out a hormonal imbalance,
WWM, and made sure that whatever birth-control method you’re
using isn’t decimating your libido, your best bet is to accept
that this is just the way you work for now—you may surprise
yourself when you hit your sexual peak in a few years—and
find some middle ground.
Let’s say your boyfriend wants it four times a week and you
can only “get into it” once a week. I’m not going to tell
you that it’s as simple as splitting the difference—have sex
twice a week! everybody loses!—because that advice, which
is pretty standard for couples in your situation, is fucking
useless. Inevitably, sex falls back to the frequency preferred
by the person with the lower libido—just the boyfriend loses!—but
having been promised more sex, the higher-libido partner’s
sense of resentment spikes, there are more tearful talks,
and the relationship invariably ends.
Here’s what you should do instead: You commit to great sex
at least once a week. He deals. But you also commit to making
sure your boyfriend is well and thoroughly milked—with your
cheerful assistance—at least three additional times a week.
You commit to being his full-blown sex partner once a week
and his life-size, ambulatory masturbatory aide at least three
times a week.
How would that work? Well, let’s say you’re not up for sex
on Wednesday because you had sex last Sunday. But he’s horny.
So you plop your twat down on his face and let him eat you
out while he beats off. It’ll take 10 minutes. Then let’s
say he’s horny again on Friday, but you’re just not feeling
it. So you treat him to a handjob while you rub your tits
in his face. Another 10 minutes. And let’s say he wakes up
horny on Saturday morning. So you sit on the edge of the bed,
have him kneel between your open legs, and pull his face into
your crotch while you tell him how thoroughly you’re going
to fuck the shit out of him tomorrow, on Sunday, when you’re
finally horny again.
As a special bonus, WWM, you may find that once the pressure
is off—once you’re not expected to have or want sex but just
expected to help out your horny boyfriend—your libido occasionally
kicks in and you’re inspired to jump him. Or not. Either way,
the pressure is off, you’re having great sex at least once
a week, and he sees you making a sincere effort to keep his
balls drained and him happy. Everybody wins.
I am a single, young, professional gal who likes to
party until the break of dawn. This weekend, I went out with
a group. One of the guys, who I liked as a friend but was
not attracted to, was at first cordial. But he became aggressive
on the dance floor. He kept grabbing me by the hips and pulling
me closer. He seemed to think my proper response was to turn
around and start humping his leg. Is there some unspoken understanding
that I am unaware of that grinding on a guy’s leg on the dance
floor does not mean that a girl is interested in him? Is this
just the way people dance now? If so, am I a prude for not
wanting to rub my genitals on a guy I have no interest in?
If not, then I need help with what to say if this happens
It Someplace Else
of two things was going on, GISE: For fear of seeming unfriendly,
you sent signals that Dancer Boy innocently mistook for mild
interest, and he attempted to get things started, as the kids
used to say, on the dance floor; or, Dancer Boy knew you weren’t
interested but sensed that you, like many young women, were
socialized to be polite and deferential to men and knowingly
manipulated you into a situation that made you feel uncomfortable.
The next time someone touches you on the dance floor in a
way that makes you uncomfortable, GISE, here’s what you do:
no smiles, no dancing away, no polite attempts to deflect
his attention. Stop dancing, make eye contact, shake your
head slowly back and forth, and clearly mouth the word “NO.”
Then go back to dancing in whatever manner and in whatever
space and with whatever partner you choose. And if the same
guy attempts to pull you onto his ass after you’ve given him
the stop-stand-stare “NO,” GISE, do all women everywhere a
favor and kick him in the nuts.
I am a 27-year-old hetero female. My new boyfriend is
24 and kinky. Before I met him, I had never been bound or
spanked or had any kind of sex that was not “vanilla.” I have
enjoyed everything we have done and I trust him. Now he wants
anal sex. He has what I think is an average dick—based on
the three others I’ve seen—but I’m afraid that it will be
painful. Am I a big baby?
Needing Anal Lessons
order you to start having anal sex with your boyfriend immediately,
ANAL. Tons of anal—but without letting your boyfriend’s cock
come anywhere near your ass, ’kay?
In other words: yes to anal, no to dick. Think tongues, lubed-up
fingers, very small toys, and smooth, clean vibrators used
non-insertively (which is fancy sex-advice talk for “lay the
vibrator on your asshole, don’t shove it the fuck in”), not
dick. If you find that you enjoy other kinds of anal sex—and
you will—your boyfriend’s dick may start to look like a shiny
new toy, or an enticing upgrade option, and not the intimidating
asshammer that it appears to be now.
But for this to work, your boyfriend has to swear on a stack
of Jack Morin’s Anal and Pleasure & Healths that he will
pleasure your ass, and get you off, without attempting to
rush you or pressure you into dick-in-ass buttfucking until
you decide you’re ready.
Per your column last week: When a man puts his balls
in someone’s ass, it’s referred to as “putting the dog in
the bathtub,” because it’s so hard to accomplish.
might amuse me, Kevin, if so many readers weren’t absolutely
furious about the advice I gave the woman freaked out about
her partner’s request to stuff his balls in her. You can read
their outraged letters—and my feeble attempts to respond—at
a new Savage Love podcast every Tuesday at www.thestranger.com/savage.