CVIndependent

Thu01242019

Last updateTue, 18 Sep 2018 1pm

I’m a recently divorced single mom and full-time student. I’m really beginning to hurt financially and have decided to start working as an escort. I am at a point of great emotional stability, happiness and confidence—all reasons that led to my decision—and I’m surrounded by people who love me and won’t judge me. (Not that I will be telling most of them.)

I’ve been seeing a man who I like, but I’ve made it clear that I am not committed to him and can see him only once a week. I’ve explained that I don’t think I can ever be monogamous, and I do not want a relationship. He has struggled with this and told me early on he was in love with me. We have AMAZING sex, and I think this causes him to have a hard time understanding why I don’t want a relationship.

I do not want to tell him I am escorting. I feel the fewer people who know, the better. And I don’t know him that well, as I have been “seeing” him for only six months. I know he would want to know, and a huge part of me feels that the right thing to do is be honest with him if I am going to continue seeing him. I also know that cutting him loose would hurt and confuse him, especially without being able to give him a reason.

How do I handle this? What is the right thing to do? My site goes live in three days, and what’s keeping me up at night is not how best to verify clients; it’s what to do about the man in my life whom I respect and love, even if I am not in love with him.

New To Escorting

Let’s set the escorting issue aside for a moment. You don’t want the same things (he wants monogamy and a defined relationship; you don’t want any of that shit); you don’t feel for him the way he feels for you (he’s in love;, you’re not); and you’re a busy single mom and full-time student—all perfectly valid reasons to end a relationship, NTE. You aren’t obligated to tell him that something you were thinking about doing but haven’t yet done, i.e., escorting, factored into your decision to cut him loose.

While I definitely think people have a right to know if their partners are escorts, I don’t think people have an absolute right to know if their partners were escorts. So if the sex is really good, and you think there’s a chance you could one day feel as strongly for him as he does for you, and you’re planning to escort only until you get your degree, NTE, you could tell him you want to take a break. Explain to him that you don’t have the bandwidth for a boyfriend just now—kid, school, work—but you’re open to dating him after you’re out of school if he’s still single and still interested.


I’m a 30-year-old single monogamist, and I recently realized I’m bisexual. I feel much happier—except I recently crossed a line with a very close friend of mine, a man I’ll admit to having some romantic feelings for.

After he broke up with his ex, I started getting random late-night text messages from him. And a couple weeks ago, we hooked up sans penetration. We acknowledged that we both have feelings, but neither of us is in a good place. He’s still dealing with the end of his LTR, and I am only just coming out as bisexual.

I love this person, and our friendship is important to me, but I can’t stop thinking of the possibility of us being together. I’m confused by the timing, and I wonder if this is real or just something I’ve allowed to distract me—or both! Also, what would this mean for my bisexuality? I’ve been to this rodeo before—meaning opposite-sex relationships—but what about the part of me I haven’t fully explored?

Between Every Thorn Solitude Yearns

You describe yourself as a monogamist—so, yeah, entering into a committed relationship with this man would prevent you from exploring your bisexuality. And the timing feels off: He may be on the rebound, and you’re still coming to terms with your bisexuality. So don’t enter into a committed relationship with him, BETSY, at least not yet. Date him casually, and keep hooking up with him, with the understanding—with the explicit and fully verbalized and mutually consented-to understanding—that you will be “exploring” your bisexuality, i.e., you’ll be getting out there and eating some pussy.


I’m a 37-year-old woman married for eight years to a wonderful man. We’re happy and GGG to the point where his kinks have become my kinks, and vice versa. However, he loves anal sex, and I cannot do it. No matter how much lube we use or how slowly we go, it’s not just uncomfortable—it’s red-hot-poker-in-my-ass painful. Can you give me any concrete, practical advice to get to a point where I can enjoy anal?

Also: Do some women actually enjoy anal? After my experiences, I find that really hard to believe.

Beyond Uncomfortable Tushy Trauma

If you’re still interested in exploring anal after all those red-hot-poker-in-your-ass painful experiences—and you are by no means obligated to explore any further—focus on anal stimulation, BUTT, not anal penetration. Try rimming; try a vibrator pressed against your anus (not shoved into it); try running his lubed-up dick up and down your crack (across your anus, not into your anus); and try all of these things during masturbation, vaginal penetration and oral sex. Having a few dozen orgasms—or a few hundred—while your anus’ sensitive nerve endings are pleasurably engaged could create a positive association between anal stimulation and sexual pleasure.

It’s going to take some time to create a positive association powerful enough to supplant the negative association you have now—an association with echoes of regicide (google “Edward II and red hot poker”)—so your husband shouldn’t expect to get his dick back into your butt anytime soon, if he ever will at all. Some people, for reasons physiological or psychological or both, just can’t experience pleasure during anal intercourse. If you’re one of those people, BUTT, your husband will just have to grieve and move on.

As for the other question: I find it hard to believe that a woman could possibly enjoy, say, a Donald Trump rally. But some women do, BUTT, and we have video to prove it. The same could be said about anal.


I am a 30-year-old hetero woman. Any ideas on how a person can build up to healthy intimate relationships again while recovering from trauma? I’m afraid in normal sexual situations. How can I get to a point where I can have sex for fun and not in a way where I’m triggering my fight-or-flight response? Yes, I am seeing a therapist.

Traumatic Experience Nullifying Sexual Energy

Here’s an idea, TENSE, but please run it by your therapist before giving it a try: Find a guy you like, and propose a different kind of friends-with-benefits arrangement. You will be in charge—you will do all the initiating—and while he can say no to anything you ask, he isn’t to ask for or initiate anything himself. You set the menu; you make the rules; you give the orders. He’ll need to be someone you trust, and it’ll help if he’s someone who thinks following orders is sexy—and trust me, TENSE, those guys are out there. You said that normal sexual situations aren’t working for you … maybe an abnormal one would?

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I’ve been spending a lot of time lately thinking about myself, my sexuality and my romantic self.

I can log on and easily find someone to fuck. I’m a bear-built top guy. There are ladies in my life who choose to share their beds with me. I can find subs to tie up and torture. (I’m kinky and bi.) What I can’t find is a long-term partner. The problem is that after I fuck/sleep with/torture someone, my brain stops seeing them as sexual and moves them into the friend category. I have friends who I used to fuck regularly, and now, it’s a chore to get it up for them. Sure, the sex still feels good, but it’s not passionate. And when it’s all said and done, they’re still in the “friend” category in my brain. Some of them have suggested being more, but I’ve recoiled. There’s nothing wrong with them, but they’re friends, not potential partners.

I’m 32, and my siblings are married and having kids, and the people I grew up with are married and having kids. And here I am not able to find a long-term significant other. Am I broken? Should I just accept that, at least for me, sexual partners and domestic/romantic partners will always be separate categories?

Always Alone

What if you’re not like most everyone else? What if this is just how your sexuality works? What if you’re wired—emotionally, romantically, sexually—for intense but brief sexual connections that blossom into wonderful friendships? And what if you’ve been tricked into thinking you’re broken, because the kind of successful long-term relationships your siblings and friends have are celebrated, and the kind of successful short-term relationships you have are stigmatized?

If your siblings and friends want to have the kinds of relationships they’re having—and it is possible some do not—they will feel no inner conflict about their choices while simultaneously being showered with praise for their choices. But what are they really doing? They’re doing what they want; they’re doing what makes them happy; they’re doing what works for them romantically, emotionally and sexually. And what are you doing? Maybe you’re doing what you want, AA—maybe you’re doing what could make you happy. So why doesn’t it make you happy? Maybe because you’ve been made to feel broken by a culture that holds up one relationship model—the partnered and preferably monogamous pair—and insists that this model is the only healthy and whole option, and that anyone who goes a different way, fucks a different way, or relates a different way is broken.

Now, it’s possible you are broken, of course, but anyone could be broken. You could be broken; I could be broken; your married siblings and friends could be broken. (Regarding your siblings and friends: Not everyone who marries and has kids wanted marriage and kids. Some no doubt wanted it, AA, but others succumbed to what was expected of them.) But here’s a suggestion for something I want you to try, something that might make you feel better, because it could very well be true: Try to accept that, for you, sexual partners and domestic/romantic partners might always be separate, and that doesn’t mean you’re broken. If that self-acceptance makes you feel whole, AA, then you have your answer.

I might make a different suggestion if your brief-but-intense sexual encounters left a lot of hurt feelings in their wake. But that’s not the case. You hook up with someone a few times; you share an intense sexual experience; and you feel a brief romantic connection to them. And when those sexual and romantic feelings subside, you’re not left with a string of bitter exes and enemies, but with a large and growing circle of good friends. Which leads me to believe that even if you aren’t doing what everyone else is doing, AA, you’re clearly doing something right.

By the way … another option if you do want to get married someday: a companionate marriage to one of your most intimate friends—someone like you, AA, who also sees potential life partners and potential sex partners as two distinct categories with no overlap—and all the Grindr hookups and BDSM sessions you like with one-offs who become good friends.


I knew my little brother had an odd fascination with rubber that would likely become sexual. He would steal rubber gloves and hide them in his room, and there was a huge meltdown when our mother found a gas mask in his room when he was 12.

My brother is in his 30s now and has a closet full of rubber “gear” that he dresses in pretty much exclusively. (When he’s not at work, he’s in rubber.) All of his friends are rubber fetishists. When he travels, it’s only to fetish events where he can wear his rubber clothing publicly. He will date only other rubber fetishists, which seems to have severely limited his romantic prospects, and he posts photos of himself in rubber to his social media accounts. I read your column and I understand that kinks aren’t chosen, and they can be incorporated into a person’s sex life in a healthy way. But my brother’s interest in rubber seems obsessive. Your thoughts?

Rubbered Up Baby Brother’s Erotic Rut

If your brother were obsessed with surfing or snowboarding and built his life around chasing waves or powder—and would date only people who shared his passion—you wouldn’t have written me. Same goes if he were obsessed with pro sports, as so many straight men are, or Broadway shows, as so many gay men are. The only “problem” here is that your brother’s obsession makes his dick hard—and to be clear, RUBBER, the problem is yours, not his. An erotic obsession or passion is just as legitimate as a nonerotic one. And even if I thought your brother had a problem—and I do not—nothing I wrote here would result in him liking his rubber clothes, rubber buddies or rubber fetish events any less.


I’m a 28-year-old straight man married to a 26-year-old straight woman. My wife and I were watching a video about sex and the female orgasm, and they were talking about how, unlike men, women don’t have a refractory period after orgasm. We were confused, because we are almost the complete opposite. I have never experienced drowsiness, lessened sensitivity or quickened loss of erection after orgasm. My wife, on the other hand, doesn’t even like me kissing her bits after orgasm. She says they feel tender and sore afterward, and this feeling can last for hours. Is this normal?

Newlywed’s Orgasms Rarely Multiply

What you describe isn’t the norm, NORM, but it’s your norm.

Most men temporarily lose interest in sex immediately after climaxing. It’s called the refractory period, and it can last anywhere from 15 minutes (for teenagers) to 24 hours (for old-timers). It’s a hormone thing: After a guy comes, his pituitary gland pumps prolactin into his bloodstream—and prolactin blocks dopamine, the hormone that makes a dude horny and keeps him horny. But some men release very little prolactin and consequently have short refractory periods; a handful of men have no refractory period at all and are capable of multiple orgasms. You don’t mention the ability to come again and again, but you do sound exceptional in that you don’t lose your erection after you come. Your wife also sounds exceptional, NORM, since most orgasmic women are capable of having multiple orgasms—but most women ≠ all women. (I’ve always loved what groundbreaking sex researcher Mary Jane Sherfey wrote in 1966: “The more orgasms she has, the more she can have—for all intents and purposes, the human female is sexually insatiable.” Emphasis hers.)

But again, NORM, there’s nothing wrong with either of you. It’s just that your norm isn’t the norm—and that’s only a problem if you choose to regard it as one.

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Longtime Savage Love fanboy with a bit of a conundrum—and it’s your fault! I’m a bi man in my 30s. To use Charles M. Blow’s word, my bisexuality is “lopsided.” This means that I fall in love with women exclusively, but I love to have sex with men occasionally. My current girlfriend not only approves; she likes to join in.

We have a great kinky sex life, and at times, we invite a hot bi dude to join us. You keep saying that to counter bisexual erasure, it is the duty of every bisexual to come out of the closet. If I were a “proper” bisexual, i.e., romantically interested in men also, that would be no problem—my family and work and social circles are extremely liberal. However, your advice to us kinksters and people in open relationships is that we probably shouldn’t come out to our parents or colleagues, since when it comes to sex, it’s advisable to operate on a need-to-know basis. While I agree with this completely—my mother doesn’t need to know my girlfriend pegs me—the rule keeps me in the closet as well: Since I’m only sexually interested in men, wouldn’t I be revealing facts about my sex life if I came out as bi? I also wouldn’t want to mislead gay men into thinking that I’m available for romantic relationships with them.

So which rule is more important: the duty to come out as a bisexual, or the advice to operate on a need-to-know basis when it comes to your sex life?

Bisexual Leaning Out Warily

There’s nothing improper about your bisexuality, BLOW—or Charles M. Blow’s bisexuality, or the bisexuality of other “lopsided” bisexuals. While the idea that bisexuals are equally attracted to men and women sexually and romantically used to be pushed by a lot of bi activists (“I fall in love with people, not genitals!”), it didn’t reflect the lived/fucked/sucked experience of most bisexuals. Like you and Blow (hetero-romantic bisexuals), many bisexuals have a strong preference for either women or men as romantic partners. My recently “gay married” bisexual friend Eric, however, is one of those bi-romantic bisexuals.

This popular misconception—that bisexuals are indifferent to gender (and more highly evolved than all those genital-obsessed monosexuals)—left many people who were having sex with men and women feeling as if they didn’t have an identity: not straight, not gay, and disqualified from bi. But thanks to bisexuals like Blow coming out and owning their bisexuality and their lopsidedness, a more nuanced and inclusive understanding of bisexuality has taken root. That nuance is reflected in bisexual activist Robyn Ochs’ definition of bisexuality: “I call myself bisexual,” Ochs says, “because I acknowledge that I have in myself the potential to be attracted—romantically and/or sexually—to people of more than one sex and/or gender, not necessarily at the same time, not necessarily in the same way, and not necessarily to the same degree.”

Lopsided or not, BLOW, you’re a proper bisexual, and if you’re in a position to come out to your family and friends, you should. And rest assured, telling people you’re bi doesn’t mean you’re divulging details about your sex life. You’re disclosing your sexual orientation, not detailing your sexual practices. You can tell someone you’re attracted to men and women—at the same time, in your case, if not in the same way—without telling them about the hot bi dudes you and the girlfriend bed together. And if you and the girlfriend are perceived to be monogamous, and you want to keep it that way, you can allow people to continue to make that assumption.

Finally, BLOW, most gay men are aware that bi guys usually aren’t romantically interested in other men. And that’s fine—so long as hetero-romantic bi guys don’t mislead us, most gay men are down to fuck. (And gay men who won’t date homo-romantic or bi-romantic men? You guys are missing out. My friend Eric was a hot, hung, adventurous catch. Congrats, Christian!) And since you’re partnered and presumed to be monogamous, you’re also presumed to be unavailable. But if you’re worried a gay friend might hire a hit man to off the girlfriend so he can have a shot at your heart, come out to him as hetero-romantic at the same time you come out to him as bi.


Bi married man here. I was always out to my wife, but two months ago, I came out to our tight circle of friends. Everyone has been supportive, and I’m glad I took this step.

But on three different occasions, my wife’s best friend has loudly asked me whose cock I would most like to suck out of all the other guys at the party. My birthday is coming up, and I don’t want her there. My wife doesn’t want to offend her oldest friend, and she makes excuses like, “She was drunk,” or, “She was only joking.” I told my wife that I wouldn’t be coming to my own birthday party if her friend was invited, but she invited her anyway “by accident.” (She sent the invite via group text.) She doesn’t want to confront or disinvite her friend, because that would be awkward. What do we do?

Her Unthinking Buddy Bad Yucks

Here’s what you’re going to do, HUBBY: You’re going to ask your wife how she would feel if a friend of yours was sexually harassing her, and you made excuses for that friend (“He was drunk!”) and then “accidentally” invited that asshole to her birthday party. Then if she won’t call her friend and retract the invitation, you do it. It will be awkward, that’s for sure, but your wife’s friend shouldn’t be spared that awkwardness. Lord knows she made things awkward for you—don’t hesitate to return the favor.


I am a 23-year-old bisexual woman, and I have two questions for you: (1) Is it possible to fall in love differently with women than with men? I think I am bisexual, because I have been in love with some women, despite never getting past a kiss. What I find strange is that whereas with men I feel immediate attraction, with women, the attraction rises after a deep friendship is formed. (2) Is it possible that I was in love with two different people at the same time? I always thought that I could be in love with only one person at a time, but during that short span, I was in love with both a guy who made me suffer and my best friend, a woman, who helped me with that guy. After I found a new boyfriend, I stopped thinking about anyone else, because our relationship is closed. But I don’t know if that’s just because I avoid thinking about others or because I wasn’t really in love with the two people (despite my surprisingly real heartbreak).

Bisexual In Need And Inquiring Finally

1. See my response to BLOW, above.

2. A person can love more than one parent, more than one child, more than one sibling, more than one set of tit clamps, and more than one romantic partner. Telling people they can feel romantic love for only one person at a time isn’t just stupid; it’s harmful. Let’s say Bill is partnered with Ted, and Bill believes romantic attraction/love is a one-at-a-time phenomenon, because that’s what he was told. Now let’s say Bill develops a crush on Sandra. If Bill doesn’t question the one-at-a-time bullshit he was taught to believe about romantic love, Bill is highly likely to think, “Well, I must not be in love with Ted anymore; otherwise, I couldn’t feel this way about Sandra,” and then he may dump tried-and-true Ted for shiny-and-new Sandra.

I’m not arguing that everyone should be poly—most people want only one partner at a time, and that’s fine. But telling people they can’t experience romantic attraction or romantic love for more than one person at a time sets long-term relationships up for failure. Because while stable, lasting love feels amazing, it’s less intoxicating than shiny, new, cum-drunk love. And while almost all stable, lasting loves were shiny, new, cum-drunk loves early on, very few new loves become lasting loves. If we don’t want people tossing lasting love overboard every time they develop feelings for someone new, people need to know that, yes, you can be in love with two different people at the same time.

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I am a 24-year-old straight guy who recently broke up with my girlfriend of more than four years. One of the reasons we broke up was a general lack of sexual compatibility. She had a particular aversion to oral sex—both giving and receiving. I didn’t get a blowjob the whole time we were together. Which brings me to why I am writing: One of my closest friends, “Sam,” is a gay guy. Shortly after breaking up with my girlfriend, I was discussing my lack of oral sex with Sam, and he said he’d be willing to “help me out.” I agreed, and Sam gave me an earth-shattering blowjob. I was glad to get some and had no hang-ups about a guy sucking me.

Since then, Sam has blown me three more times. My problem is I am starting to feel guilty and worry I am using Sam. He’s a very good buddy, and I’m concerned this lopsided sexual arrangement might be bad for our friendship. Sam knows I am not into guys, and I’m never going to reciprocate, and I feel like this is probably not really fair to him. But these are literally the only blowjobs I’ve received since I was a teenager. What should I do?

Totally Have Reservations Over Advantage Taking

Only one person knows how Sam feels about this “lopsided sexual arrangement,” THROAT, and it isn’t me—it’s Sam.

Zooming out for a second: People constantly ask me how the person they’re fucking or fisting or flogging feels about all the fucking or fisting or flogging they’re doing. Guys ask me why a woman ghosted them, and women ask me if their boyfriend is secretly gay. And while I’m perfectly happy to speculate, I’m not a mind-reader. Which means I have no way of knowing for sure why that woman ghosted you or if your boyfriend is gay—or in your case, THROAT, how Sam feels about the four norecip blowjobs he’s given you.

Only Sam knows.

And that’s why I wrote you back, THROAT, and asked you for Sam’s contact information. Since you were clearly too afraid to ask Sam yourself (most likely over fear that the blowjobs would stop), I offered to ask Sam on your behalf. I wasn’t serious—it was my way of saying, “You should really ask Sam.” But you sent me Sam’s contact info, and a few minutes later, I was chatting with Sam.

“Yes, I have been sucking my straight friend’s cock,” Sam said to me. “And I am flattered he told you I was good at it. That’s an ego-booster!”

Sam, like THROAT, is 24 years old. He grew up on the East Coast and met THROAT early in his first year at college. Sam came out at the end of his freshman year, to THROAT and his other friends, and he now lives in a big city where he works in marketing when he isn’t sucking off THROAT.

My first question for Sam: Is he one of those gay guys who get off on “servicing” straight guys?

“I’ve never done anything with a straight guy before this,” said Sam. “So, no, I’m not someone who is ‘into servicing straight guys.’ I have only ever dated and hooked up with gay guys before!”

So why offer to blow THROAT?

“I didn’t know until after he broke up with his girlfriend that he hadn’t gotten a blowjob the whole time they were together—four years!” Sam said. “When I told him I’d be happy to help him out, I was joking. I swear I wasn’t making a pass at my straight friend! But there was this long pause, and then he got serious and said he’d be into it. I wondered for a minute if it would be weird for me to blow my friend, and there was definitely a bit of convincing each other that we were serious. When he started taking his clothes off, I thought, ‘So this is going to happen.’ It was not awkward after. We even started joking about it right away. I have sucked him off four more times since then.”

For those of you keeping score at home: Either THROAT lost count of the number of times Sam has blown him—THROAT said Sam has blown him three more times after that first blowjob—or THROAT got a fifth blowjob in the short amount of time that elapsed between sending me his letter and putting me in touch with Sam.

So does this lopsided sexual arrangement—blowing a straight boy who’s never going to blow him—bother Sam?

“I suppose it is a ‘lopsided sexual arrangement,’” said Sam. “But I don’t mind. I really like sucking dick, and I’m really enjoying sucking his dick. He has a really nice dick! And from my perspective, we’re both having fun. And, yes, I’ve jacked off thinking about it after each time I sucked him. I know—now—that he thinks it is a bit unfair to me. But I don’t feel that way at all.”

So there is something in it for Sam: You get the blowjobs, THROAT, and Sam gets the spank-bankable memories. And Sam assumes that at some point, memories are all he’ll have.

“He will eventually get into a relationship with a woman again, and our arrangement will end,” said Sam. “I only hope nothing is weird between us in the future because of what has happened in the past few weeks.”

I had one last question: Sam is really good at sucking cock—he gives “earth-shattering” blowjobs—but is THROAT any good at getting his cock sucked? As all experienced cocksuckers know, a person can suck at getting their cock sucked: They can just lay/stand/sit there, giving you no feedback, or be too pushy or not pushy enough, etc.

“That’s a really good question,” Sam said. “I have to say, he is very good at it. He really gets into it; he moans; he talks about how good it feels; and he lasts a long time. That’s part of what makes sucking his cock so much fun.”


I’m a straight guy in an LTR with a bi woman. We recently had a threesome with a bi male acquaintance. We made it clear that I’m not into guys and that she was going to be the center of attention. He said he was fine with this. A little bit into us hooking up, he said he wanted to suck my dick. I wasn’t sure about it at first, but my girlfriend encouraged it, because she thought it was hot. I ended up saying yes, but I stated that I didn’t want to reciprocate. A bit later, while my girlfriend was sucking his dick, he said he wanted me to join her. I said no; he kept badgering me to do it; I kept saying no; and then he physically tried to shove my head down toward his crotch. My girlfriend and I both got pissed and said he had to leave. Now he’s bitching to our mutual friends about how I had an insecure straight-boy freak-out; he didn’t get to come after we both got ours; we’re shitty selfish fetishists, and so on.

I’m concerned about what our friends think of me, but even more so, I’m concerned that I did a shitty thing. I get that maybe he was hoping I’d change my mind, especially after I changed my mind about him sucking my dick. But I don’t think it’s fair for him to be angry that I didn’t. Is oral reciprocation so necessary that it doesn’t matter that we agreed in advance that I would not be blowing him?

Not One To Be Inconsiderate

You did nothing wrong. And if after hearing your side of the story, NOTBI, your mutual friends side with a person who pressured you to do something you were clear about not wanting to do, and then, after you restated your opposition to performing said act, pressured you to perform the act—by physically forcing your head down to his cock—you can solve the “mutual friends” problem by cutting these so-called friends out of your life.

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I am a 38-year-old gay man with a serious problem: My boyfriend of five years has developed a strange fascination. We’ve always watched porn together, but now he has been looking at straight porn and even lesbian porn (!!!) more and more often. More than once, he has expressed an interest in having a MMF threesome—and he’s a self-proclaimed gold-star gay! This week, I discovered he had hidden a Fleshlight from me. I could tell he had used it.

What is going on with him? On the other hand, we still have sex pretty frequently. He really gets off when I call his ass a “pussy,” which I’ll do to turn him on, but I find it pretty weird. He also tells me he gets off on the thought of the two of us fucking a woman together. This really seems bizarre!

Could my beautiful bottom boy be turning bi? If he is, I don’t know how we can handle it.

Guy Alarmed, Yeah, By Younger Boyfriend’s Interest

Turning bi? Unlikely.

Always was bi and only just realized it? Likelier.

Always was bi but identified as gay because (1) he prefers men as romantic partners, and (2) the biphobia he encountered in gay male spaces/bedrooms/buttholes convinced him to stay closeted, but he doesn’t want to live a lie anymore, and he’s done hiding from the man he loves, but instead of using his words and coming out to you like a grown-up, GAYBYBI, your boyfriend is letting you know he’s bi with his porn choices and a big push to make a MMF threesome sound like a sexy adventure you would both enjoy? Likeliest.

As for how to handle it, GAYBYBI, you’ll have to use your words: Ask your boyfriend if he’s bi. (Spoiler: He’s bi, bicurious, or so homoflexible he could tour with Cirque du Soleil.) If you’re not interested in having sex with women, tell him so. If being with you means he can never have sex with a woman, tell him so. And if you would never knowingly date a bi guy, tell him he deserves better.


A relationship question that doesn’t involve sex: Occasionally when two people live together, they bump into each other, or one may get in the way of the other. Is it reasonable to be put off if rather than simply hearing, “Excuse me,” when you are inadvertently in someone’s way, the person trying to gain access says, “Do you have to stand there?”

Just Seems Rude

People who are courteous to strangers (“Excuse me, can I squeeze past you?”) and contemptuous with intimate partners (“Do you have to stand there, you fucking dumbass?”) don’t value their partners and don’t deserve intimacy. People who are assholes to everyone don’t deserve intimacy either, of course, but they get points for being consistent.


I recently posted an online ad for a jack-off buddy. I got a response from a man who turned out to be a gorgeous, young Sri Lankan dude with a huge, beautiful uncut cock. Anyway, I was really looking forward to him jacking me off and vice versa. But when I arrived, he said he was only interested in me giving him a massage and then a handjob. Apparently, he’s a straight guy who wanted to experiment with men in a very limited way. Like I said, SUPER HOT, so I happily obliged. But after he came, I was really aching for release myself. But as I stated earlier, he made it clear he did not want to reciprocate.

After we were finished, he indicated that he might hit me up again. Do you think I should continue with the massage and “happy ending” in the hopes that he will someday feel comfortable enough to reciprocate? Or should I just go ahead and find myself another jack-off buddy?

Craving Uncut Masculine Sri Lankan

Another jack-off buddy? No, no. You mean an additional jack-off buddy.


I recently spent a wonderful weekend with a young woman from out of town who identifies as queer and poly. Being the curious guy I am, I had her explain what these things meant to her. She went on to say that she is considering changing from poly to nonmonogamous. I find this confusing. I’m certainly nonmonogamous, but I’ve never thought of myself as poly. What is the difference?

Confused Over Lines Inside Names

I would describe the difference as googleable, COLIN. But since you asked: A nonmonogamous person has sex with their partner and others; a poly person has or is open to having committed and concurrent romantic relationships. For one example: An ethically nonmonogamous woman fucks the boyfriend/husband she loves and other guys she doesn’t; a poly woman has two (or more) guys she both loves and fucks.


I have two complaints: one with the world, and one with you. My problem with the world is that it seems to think it is possible to embrace the rights of sex workers and still stigmatize the men who employ them. I am in a happy monogamish marriage, and I enjoy a very good, vanilla-but-bordering-on-tantric sex life with my wife. Early on, when we discussed how open our marriage should be, we decided it would be all right for me to see escorts several times a year. This gives me some sexual variety and keeps her from feeling threatened by my becoming emotionally involved with a third party. She is very mono and has no interest in going outside of the marriage for sex.

My quarrel with you has to do with your oft-repeated advice that people should break things off with partners who don’t perform oral sex. My wife doesn’t like to give head—and I really don’t like getting it from her, since she doesn’t like doing it. It is, however, one of the things on my list for my quarterly pro session. So I go down on her; she doesn’t go down on me, and I see escorts who do. And …

It Works For Us

In regards to your first complaint, IWFU, there are sex workers out there fighting for their rights and fighting the stigma against sex work—along with fighting prohibition, the Nordic Model, and SESTA (google it)—but you don’t see the men who employ them stepping up and joining the fight.

“(It’s time for) all of you clients out there (to) get off your duffs and fight,” as sex worker and sex-worker-rights advocate Maggie McNeill wrote on her blog. “Regular clients outnumber full-time whores by at least 60 to 1. Gentlemen, I suggest you rethink your current silence, unless you want to be the next one with your name and picture splashed across newspapers, TV screens, and websites.”

In regards to your second complaint, IWFU, it is true that I’ve said—on one or two occasions—that oral comes standard, and any model that arrives without oral should be returned to the lot. I’ve also said that you can’t be in an LTR without paying the price of admission, and I’ve said that a lot more often. If not getting oral at home is the price of admission you’re willing to pay to be with your wife, and if allowing you to get oral elsewhere is the price of admission she’s willing to pay to be with you, then Godspeed, IWFU, and tip the sex workers you patronize—and speak up to fight the stigma against doing sex work and hiring sex workers.

On the Lovecast, “Ask a Fuck-Up!”: savagelovecast.com.

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I’m an 18-year-old female. I’m cisgender and bisexual. I’ve been in a monogamous relationship with my cisgender bisexual boyfriend for about a year.

I’m currently struggling with a lot of internalized biphobia and other hang-ups about my boyfriend’s sexuality. I don’t know if I’m projecting my own issues onto him or if I’m just being bigoted towards bi men, but either way, I feel truly awful about it. But when I think about the fact that he’s bi and is attracted to men, I become jealous and fearful that he will leave me for a man, or that he would rather be with a man. (I’ve been with men and women in the past; he’s never been with a man.) I know it is unfair of me to feel this way, and he’s never given me any real reason to fear this. We have a very engaged, kinky and rewarding sex life! But I worry I’m not what he really wants.

This situation is complicated by the near certainty that my boyfriend has some sort of hormonal disorder. He has a very young face for an 18-year-old, a feminine figure, and not a lot of body hair. He orgasms but he does not ejaculate; and although he has a sizable penis, his testicles are more like the size of grapes than eggs. He struggles a lot with feeling abnormal and un-masculine. I try to be as supportive as possible and tell him how attracted to him I am, and how he’ll get through whatever this is. But he can tell his bi-ness makes me nervous and uncomfortable. I think that because he appears more feminine than most men and is more often hit on by men than women, I worry that he would feel more comfortable or “normal” with a man.

I don’t want to contribute to him feeling abnormal or bad about himself. How do I stop worrying that he’s gay or would be happier with a man? I feel horrible about myself for these anxieties considering that I’m bi, too, and should know better.

Anonymous Nervous Girlfriend Seeks Tranquility

“Many people who encounter us Bi+ folk in the wild just project their insecurities onto us with impunity and then blame us for it,” said RJ Aguiar, a bisexual activist and content creator whose work has been featured on Buzzfeed, HuffPo, Queerty and other sites. “As someone who’s bi herself, I’m sure ANGST knows this all too well.”

So if you’ve been on the receiving end of biphobia—as almost all bisexual people have—why are you doing it to your bisexual boyfriend?

“This hypothetical so-and-so-is-going-to-leave-me-for-someone-hotter scenario could happen to anyone of any orientation,” said Aguiar. “But maybe because the potential ‘pool of applicants’ is over twice as big for us Bi+ folk, we get stuck with twice as much of this irrational fear? I don’t know. But here’s what I do know: Most Biphobia (and jealousy for that matter) is projected insecurity. Built into the fear that someone will leave you because they ‘like x or y better’ is the assumption that you yourself aren’t good enough.”

And while feelings of insecurity and jealousy can undermine a relationship, ANGST, they don’t have to. It all depends on how you address them when they arise.

“We all have our moments!” said Aguiar. “But we can turn these moments into opportunities for open communication and intimacy rather than moments of isolation and shame. That way, they end up bringing you closer, rather than driving this invisible wedge between you. The key is to understand that feelings aren’t always rational. But if we can share those feelings with the person we love without fear of judgment or reprisal, it can help create a space of comfort and intimacy that no piece of ass will ever be able to compete with—no matter how hot they are or what they may or may not have between their legs.”

As for the reasons you’re feeling insecure—your boyfriend might be gay and/or happier with a man—I’m not going to lie to you, ANGST: Your boyfriend could be gay (some people who aren’t bisexual identify as bi before coming out as gay or lesbian), and/or he could one day realize that he’d be happier with a man (just as you could one day realize that you’d be happier with a woman). But your wonderful sex life—your engaging, kinky, rewarding sex life—is pretty good evidence that your boyfriend isn’t gay. (I was one of those guys who identified as bi before coming out as gay, ANGST, and I had girlfriends—and the sex we had was far from wonderful.)

And now I’m going tell you something you no doubt already know: Very few people wind up spending their lives with the person they were dating at 18. You and your boyfriend are both in the process of figuring out who you are and what you want. It’s possible he’ll realize you’re not the person he wants to be with, ANGST, but it’s also possible you’ll realize he’s not the person you want to be with. Stop worrying about the next six or seven decades of your life—stop worrying about forever—and enjoy this time and this boy and this relationship for however long it lasts.

Finally, ANGST, on the off chance your boyfriend hasn’t spoken to a doctor about his symptoms—because he’s an uninsured/underinsured/unlucky American, or because he’s been too embarrassed to bring up the size of his balls and quality of ejaculations with his parents and/or doctor—I shared your letter with Dr. John Amory, professor of medicine at the University of Washington.

“An 18-year-old male with testicles the ‘size of grapes’ indicates an issue with testicular development,” said Dr. Amory. “The reduced testicular volume, in combination with the other features such as his feminine face and sparse body hair, also suggest an issue with testicular function.”

It could simply be delayed puberty—some people suddenly grow six inches when they get to college—or it could be something called Klinefelter syndrome.

“Klinefelter syndrome occurs in one out of every 500 males and is associated with small testicular volume and decreased testosterone,” said Dr. Amory. “This diagnosis is frequently missed because the penis is normal in size and the men are normal in most other ways, although about half of the men with Klinefelter syndrome (KS) can have breast enlargement (gynecomastia) that can be seen as feminizing. Bottom line: Small testes at age 18 means it’s time for a doctor’s visit—probably an endocrinologist or urologist—to take a family history, do an examination, and consider measurement of testosterone and some other hormones. This should help him understand if he ‘just needs to wait’ or if he has a diagnosis that could be treated. There is a real possibility that he has KS, which is usually treated with testosterone to improve muscle mass, bone density and sexual function.”

Follow RJ Aguiar on Twitter @rj4gui4r.


I’m a 27-year-old woman whose boyfriend recently broke up with her. Along with the usual feelings of grief and heartbreak, I’m feeling a lot of guilt about how I handled our sex life, which was one of the main issues in our breakup. My now ex-boyfriend was interested in BDSM and a kink-oriented lifestyle, and I experimented with that for him. I attended several play parties, went to a five-day-long kink camp with him, and tried out many of his BDSM fantasies. The problem became that, hard as I tried, I just wasn’t very interested in that lifestyle, and parts of it made me very uncomfortable. I was game to do the lighter stuff (spanking, bondage), but just couldn’t get behind the more extreme things. I disappointed him because I “went along with it” only to decide I wasn’t into it, and I unfairly represented my interest in his lifestyle.

Did I do something wrong? What should I have done?

Basically A Little Kinky

All you’re guilty of doing, BALK, is exactly what kinksters everywhere hope their vanilla partners will do. You gave it a try—you were good, giving and game enough to explore BDSM with and for him—and sometimes that works, e.g. someone who always thought of themselves as vanilla goes to a play party or a five-day-long kink camp and suddenly realizes, hey, I’m pretty kinky, too! But it doesn’t always work. Since the alternative to “went along with it” was “never gave it a chance,” BALK, your ex-boyfriend should be giving you credit for trying, not grief for supposedly misleading him.

On the Lovecast: Dan chats with rival advice columnist Roxane Gay: savagelovecast.com.

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