I’m a 31-year-old gay male. I’ve been with my fiancé for three years, and we are getting married in the fall. I’ve got a question about initiating sex in my sleep—I read somewhere that “sexsomnia” is the “medical” term, but maybe the internet invented that? According to my fiancé, I have initiated or performed some kind of sex act in the middle of the night and then gone right back to sleep. The next day, I don’t remember anything.
I’m a queer girl living with a male partner. This weekend, we found ourselves in an after-hours club, made some new friends, and ended up at a house with two other guys and a girl. Things were pretty playful with everyone except for one of the guys. We all wanted him gone, but he wouldn’t take the hint. He bought the booze for the after-party, so we were a little unsure of the etiquette of asking him to leave. Neither I nor the other girl was interested. I made it clear that penetration was off the menu for me, and everyone respected this—except the one guy.
I’ve read your column for as long as I had access to the internet and was interested in sex, so here goes: I’m a 27-year-old male with a 42-year-old girlfriend. We met at work; we were both going through divorce. At the beginning, holy moly! My dream girl in the bedroom. We’ve been together for a year, and the sex is still the best I’ve ever had—she says she feels the same—but it’s vanilla. I am assertive and in-control in the bedroom, which works for both of us, as she prefers to be passive and wants me to make moves or switch it up.
I’m a woman in my late 40s. In my early 20s, I married a much older man. We did all the requisite things: kids, house, intercourse once a week. When the sex fell off due to his declining health, he surprised me by suggesting we open our marriage. He said I was too young to be limited and he didn’t want me to leave him for sex. I spent time contemplating how to truly fulfill my desires. I read a lot of erotica, indulged in porn, and discovered that what turned me on was Dominance. Not intercourse particularly, but power play with me as the Queen controlling a slave.
Gay guy here. Met a guy online. He came over. We had incredible sex and then a great conversation lasting several hours. But—and you knew there was one coming—he told me that he lied about his HIV status. (I asked him before meeting him, like I do with anyone.) He is undetectable, but he told me initially he was “HIV/STD negative.” I got very upset—more from the lie than his status. (I know that undetectable is practically the same as negative.) I really like him, but that was a big lie. He told me all about his life and any other secrets after that.
I recently spoke at Curious Minds Weekend in Toronto at the Hot Docs Ted Rogers Cinema. Audience members submitted questions on cards before the show—anonymously—but the moderator, Lisan Jutras of the Globe and Mail, and I were having so much fun talking with each other that we didn’t get to many cards. So I’m going to quickly answer as many of the questions from the audience at Curious Minds as I can this week.
I went to Dark Odyssey Winter Fire, the big kink hotel takeover event in Washington, DC, in February. There was one thing I saw there that is messing with my head, and I hope you can set me straight. There was this lovely little six-person orgy going on with two cute-as-could-be hippie girls and four older dudes. Then these four people came along. They sat and watched—a guy and three women in hijabs and dresses that went wrist to ankle, fully covered.
My wife and I have a decent sex life. Pretty vanilla, but we’re busy with work, chores, and life in general with two small kids, so I can’t complain too much. About a year after having our second kid, I went down on my wife. As usual, we both enjoyed it greatly. Unfortunately, about a week later she got a yeast infection. She attributed the YI to the oral, and since then I am strictly forbidden from putting my mouth anywhere near her pussy. I understand that YI are no fun, painful, and embarrassing. I understand her reluctance.
Fortyish, straight, white dude here. I have this weird (possibly misogynistic) belief that, when it comes to sex, I can’t win. Actually, I think men in general can’t win. Thoughtful, well-meaning men at least. It comes down to this: During sex, if the man doesn’t come, it’s the man’s fault, because he clearly has problems with his dick and is barely even a man and should be ashamed of himself. If the woman doesn’t come, it’s also the man’s fault, because he’s clearly bad at sex and doesn’t even care and is barely even a man and should be ashamed of himself.
I am a straight married man. My wife and I have a 4-year-old and a 3-month-old. We’ve just started having intercourse again. For Valentine’s Day, we spent the night in a B&B while grandma watched the kids. We had edibles, drank sparkling wine, and then fucked. It was amazing. After we came and while we were still stoned and drunk, my wife mentioned she was open to inviting others into our sex life. I asked about getting a professional sex worker. She said no. But maybe if we were in a bar (we’re never in bars) and met someone (a unicorn), she might be into it. Anal came up.
I’ve been reading your advice column in the Coast in Halifax for a while, and it seems that most solutions to relationship problems revolve around sex. Everyone wants it or needs it, we should fuck before dinner, or we can spice up our sex life in this certain way to be happy. What about someone who doesn’t want to have sex, ever? I’ve asked other people for advice, and the answer is usually “take one for the team,” have sex to keep them happy. Is that the only way I could find happiness in a relationship?
Last week, I spoke at the Wilbur Theater in Boston and the Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute in Troy, New York. Audience members submitted their questions on tiny cards before the show, allowing them to remain anonymous while forcing them to be succinct. Here are some of the questions I didn’t have time to get to at both events…
I am a 26-year-old heterosexual European man. I have been for four years in a monogamous relationship with my girlfriend. Recently she cheated on me. When she told me what she did, I felt a very strong pain, even stronger than I expected. After a few days of pain, however, I found that the sexual attraction for my girlfriend, instead of decreasing, increased after her adventure. In particular, I am now having a cuckold fantasy.
I am quite the follower on social media—Facebook and Twitter in particular. I make no trolling comments, no #MAGA hashtags; I just look with my male gaze. Like Laura Mulvey says, the male gaze is only natural. I’ve lost interest in pornography, so I use everyday pictures of women, typically selfies. It helps me to know the story behind the face and body. None of these pics are pornographic—just feel-good selfies by young women posted on social media. I don’t communicate with these people, because that would be creepy. I’m not worried about whether this is abnormal.
About a year ago, I was pretending to read my boyfriend’s mind and jokingly said, “You want to put it in my ear.” Since then, I have seen references to ear sex (aural sex?) everywhere! There’s even a holiday (“Take It in the Ear Day” on December 8), and I was reading a book just now in which the author mentions how much she hates getting come in her ear. So while I am honestly not trying to yuck someone’s yum, I do have two questions. First, is this really a thing? And second, how does it work?
My partner and I have been playing with male chastity devices. We’ve been considering going to a strip club while his cock is caged up and getting him lap dances. Is there some etiquette for this with the dancers? Do we let the dancer know before she is on his lap? Or do we not mention it? Is it rude to get a dancer involved at all? I’ve not yet found an etiquette guide for this situation.
My brother is a virgin and turning 30 in a few weeks. He said he wants to hire an escort just for drinks and conversation for his birthday, but he doesn’t really know how to tell what’s a reliable service or what criteria he should be looking for to tell whether an agency is legit, reliable, etc.
Earlier this month, we recorded our Savage Lovecast Christmas Spectacular live at Revolution Hall in Portland, Oregon. The audience submitted questions on tiny cards before the show, which allowed questioners to remain anonymous and forced them to be succinct. More questions were submitted than my guests and I could get to, so I promised the crowd I would answer as many of their unanswered questions as I could in this week’s column. Here we go…
I’m having an issue with my boyfriend, and I don’t know if I am the crazy, paranoid, controlling party here. We have been together for more than a year and a half. We had troubles early on because he has a low sex drive. It made me very insecure, and I think that’s why, at the time, I became extremely jealous of his friendship with his very attractive intern. I fully owned up to my irrational jealousy and decided on my own that it was my responsibility to overcome that. She eventually stopped working with him, and they haven’t been in contact for over sex months.
Perhaps you’re not the best person to ask, being a cis white man, but as a queer woman of color, the election had an extremely detrimental effect on my relationships with my white partners. I love and care for them, but looking at those results has me wondering why the fuck they didn’t do better in reaching out to their shitty relatives? I’m sick of living at the whim of white America. I’m aware this is the blame stage of processing, but it’s left me unable to orgasm with my white partners.
I’m a 37-year-old gay man who just got out of an abusive relationship. We were together five years, moved to Portland together, got married three years ago, yada, yada, yada. He suffered a traumatic injury earlier this year, which led to PTSD, which led to a nervous breakdown, which led to our savings being depleted, which led him to leave me in October. He moved back to the other side of the country, and I’m broke and on my own in a strange city.
My boyfriend of almost two years is wonderful, and we have had very few issues. But there is one thing that has almost been a deal breaker. He fiddles with his penis almost constantly—in front of me and in front of our roommates. I’ve confronted him about it a number of times. He said he should be able to fiddle with his dick in every room of the house if he wants to and he should feel comfortable doing so. I told him that he is being “comfortable” at the expense of the comfort of those around him.
I’m a very sex-positive girl and I finally convinced my boyfriend to open up about his fetishes. I could tell he was ashamed and torn about sharing them with me, but I’ve been with my fair share of guys and surfed the net for years, and I was convinced nothing would shock me. Well, it turns out he’s into soft vore. I’m not gonna lie, I was a bit put off, but of course I didn’t tell him. I started looking for information about his fetish, and it’s not as uncommon as I thought.
I’m a longtime fan—reader and listener—and part of the 47 percent of white women who did NOT vote for Donald Trump. To say I’m disappointed, horrified, scared, and mad about the election is woefully insufficient. I donated $100 to Planned Parenthood this morning because I honestly felt like there was nothing else I could do. That being said, I wanted to share that I had one of the most weirdly charged, hottest, and sexiest orgasms. A little buzzed (dealing with those election results) and sad, my boyfriend and I turned to each other for consolation.