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SAVAGE
LOVE
BY
DAN SAVAGE
I’m
a straight male college student in a relationship, which had
been going great. The only incongruity was that, for a religious
reason, I don’t want to have penetrative vaginal sex before
marriage. I’m up for anything else—I would eat her out, piss
on her, whatever else—but not vaginal sex. I made this clear
at the beginning. My girlfriend started bringing up how she
wanted to have “actual” sex. I told her, “I love you, and
if you need to fuck other guys, go for it.” To my relief,
she was completely repulsed and offended by the suggestion.
A week later, she confessed that she had gone ahead and slept
with someone. I had no idea I would be this hurt. I feel like
I can’t trust her now, and I can’t bring myself to sleep in
her bed anymore. I feel like a hypocrite since I brought up
the idea of her sleeping with someone else in the first place.
But I was unprepared for the reality since she berated me
for making the proposal at all. Still, I feel like I don’t
have a leg to stand on here; I told her to do this. She regrets
the hookup. I don’t know if I’m even asking for advice. I
just wonder if I’m acting childishly.
—Wishing
Ancillary Fucking Felt Less Emotionally Ruinous
Your
dilemma is interesting, WAFFLER, but you know what I’m more
interested in? I’d like to know which religion we’re talking
about here. I’d really like to know which particular
faith tradition frowns on vaginal intercourse before marriage
but smiles on oral and piss scenes and OKs women having vaginal
intercourse before marriage but only with men they don’t intend
to marry. That sounds like a church I’d like to visit.
That sounds like a church I should be tithing to.
Look, WAFFLER, doing everything-but-vaginal for religious
reasons is deeply silly. If you’re going to be in a sexual
relationship, be in a sexual relationship. I promise you that
any God who frowns on vaginal-before-marriage also frowns
on piss-play-before-marriage and eating-pussy-before-marriage.
As for your dilemma, WAFFLER, either you need to find a girlfriend
who wants what you want—or doesn’t want what you don’t want—or
you need to stop playing bullshit games and start fucking
the girl you’ve got.
To say that I have recently been bored at work is a
gross understatement. I have turned it into an opportunity
to read all the archived Savage Love columns I can find on
the internet, which leads me to three questions that popped
into my head while passing the time:
1. Your advice has always been sassy and matter-of-fact, but
it seems to me that your advice is becoming less acidic as
time passes. How has your attitude toward the sex-advice business
changed over the years? How have your own views shifted?
2. Why don’t women brag about their clit size?
3. Are you still into Ashton Kutcher or do you have a new
fantasy flame?
—Your
Devoted Reader
1.
I get a lot of mail from people telling me I’ve changed. Half
write to tell me that I’ve become an insufferably bitchy sacky
twatty cunt prick, and half tell me I’ve gone soft, I’m too
nice, I’ve lost my edge, etc. Not sure what to make of that.
And while my views haven’t shifted much over the years, YDR,
I have more sympathy for straight boys now than I did when
I started out.
2. Clits aren’t inserted into anything—not typically—so a
big clit doesn’t earn a woman any bragging rights. And a small
clit, harder to locate and harder to stimulate, is
nothing to brag about either. And while the clit—all of it,
not just the exposed part—is central to a woman’s sexual pleasure,
it’s not the showiest part of a woman’s package. That would
be the labia. And it’s not the part a man is most interested
in. That would be the vagina. So while the clit is hugely
important to her, it’s not necessarily all that important
to him. So… not much point in screaming and yelling about
it, huh?
3. I still admire Ashton Kutcher’s work ethic—the man is an
acting, producing, tweeting machine—but my crush on
Ashton evaporated halfway through the first episode of Punk’d.
My current celebrity crush is Bill Hader as Stefon on SNL’s
“Weekend Update.”
I have recently started dating a sexually adventurous
man. He is the first person to successfully fist me, and it’s
fantastic. When I orgasm, both during the fisting and after
the fisting while he fingers me, I squirt. Lots. Afterward,
the sheets are soaked and I’m in a puddle. We’ve put towels
down, but the sheer volume of liquid soaks through them. Without
towels, it soaks all the way through to the mattress. I’m
not super-pleased about ruining my mattress, and the postcoital
sleeping on very wet sheets is not ideal.
I don’t really want to sleep on a plastic-wrapped mattress
and change my sheets every time we have sex. Does anything
exist that’s super-absorbent that I could put down during
sex, or even something that might go under the sheets to at
least protect the bed?
—Wasting
Endless Towels
The
bed is a nice place to sleep, a good place to read, and an
obvious place to fuck. But you can have sex elsewhere, WET,
and you can acquire just-for-fucking furniture/furnishings
without going to hell with the vaginal-before-marriage crowd.
Instead of attempting to fist-and-squirt-proof your bed—which
is impossible—go to a sporting-goods store and pick up a large,
folding wrestling mat. Store it under the bed, WET, and when
your sexy time involves fisting—and hopefully you’re not fisting
every time you have sex—GET OUT OF BED, pull the mat
out, throw some towels down, and fist and squirt to your heart’s
content. Then when you’re all over—the towels, the mat, the
floor—you’ll be able to crawl back into your warm, dry, comfortable
bed.
Hey,
Everybody: Jason Robinson is—was—the football coach
at Mandarin High School in Duval County, Fla. He was fired
last month for sending “adult-oriented pictures” to a student.
He didn’t send the pictures to one of his students,
but to a 20-year-old college student who just so happens to
be Robinson’s girlfriend. The mother of Robinson’s girlfriend
found the pictures on her daughter’s phone and forwarded them
to the principal of the school where Robinson worked and scores
of other people.
“We
hold our teachers to a higher standard,” principal Donna Richardson
told reporters. “They’re in front of our students. They’re
talking with our students. They’re teaching our students how
to become good characters.”
This is sex-negative bullshit. Robinson is a consenting adult;
Robinson’s girlfriend is a consenting adult. And what consenting
adults do on their own time—and with their own cell phones—is
no one’s business but their own.
Savage Love readers stuck up for Constance McMillen after
she was victimized by the homophobic morons who run her high
school. Now we need to stick up for a straight high-school
coach being victimized by the sexphobic morons who run his.
People shouldn’t lose their jobs after their privacy has been
invaded, and people shouldn’t be punished for engaging in
private, consensual sex acts. Send an e-mail to Donna Richardson?
at richard sod@duvalschools.org. Let Richardson know that
she is in the wrong. And let others know to let her know.
mail@savagelove.net
Find the Savage Lovecast every Tuesday at thestranger.com/savage.
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