June 15, 2011

I’m a straight man married to a bisexual lady, which is something I would recommend to all other straight men in the world. We’re in our late 20s, have been together for eight years, married four. (I know: too young and too soon, but we’ll see how it turns out.)

My wife has a much higher sex drive than I do, and she’s also into kink, as a domme. My fantasies are vanilla, but I’m GGG.

The problem, as I see it, is that she doesn’t initiate. She’s tied me up and spanked me a handful of times, and it was fine.

Could I have done something wrong? How do you get spanked wrong? When I’ve asked her, she says that it takes a lot of energy to top, which makes sense, but we’ve done plenty of other high-energy activities. Communication is excellent between us. How do we get past this?
Beaten Up Not Nearly Enough

The issue, BUNNE, can be summed up in three little words: “it was fine.” For you, it was fine. Not great, not mind-blowing, not something you love and can’t live without. It was fine.

Some people into BDSM are content just to be indulged by their vanilla partners. But others are only interested in doing BDSM with other folks who are into BDSM. That’s because there’s a huge difference between tying up and spanking someone who’s into it—really into it—and tying up and spanking someone who is doing it for you, for love, and for GGG chits. If your wife has experienced the rush of dominating a simpatico submissive—the thrill of finding someone’s limits and pushing them, the charge that comes from knowing you’re making someone’s deepest, darkest fantasies a reality—then being indulged by her loving husband, who is more than willing to endure the odd spanking to maintain his GGG bona fides, simply isn’t going to cut it.

P.S.: The library computers block Buck Angel.

Buttsex: Some folks just can’t take it, GAYASS, and you may be one of them. But you can have all the sweat, pants, and excitement of anal without the penetration. Just grease up his dick, grease up your inner thighs, clamp your thighs around his dick, and let him pound away. Extra credit: Reach down between your legs and cup your greasy hands together on the opposite side as he pseudofucks you from behind so that his dick, once it pokes through your thighs, still feels as though it’s “inside” something, even if that something isn’t your spun-glass ass.

Kinky people aren’t assigned their kinks during their freshman orientation sessions at university, WM, and no one has ever contracted a fetish—like a cold?—just because someone uttered the name of it aloud. (And no fetishist has ever been cured by Mom freaking out.) People tend to become aware of their kinks, and start scouring the web in search of information about them, right around puberty. Which means your daughter is perfectly normal—a perfectly normal, perfectly kinky kid.

Like lots of young kinksters, she may be consumed by her kink now; she’s just realized that she’s not alone, and she’s busily reading and viewing everything she can about it. It’s unlikely that her kink will remain so all-consuming, WM. Sooner or later, she’ll relax about it, and relax into it, and one day she’ll have a very nice boyfriend—or girlfriend—who loves her enough to indulge her harmless kink—or better still, she’ll meet someone online she clicks with emotionally and intellectually who also shares her kink.

In the meantime, WM, if it makes you uncomfortable to read what your daughter is reading online, stop reading it.

Yes, NIC, see a shrink—and a pot dealer/medical marijuana provider.

There’s a famous case of a 15-year-old girl who was born without a vagina—but with everything else—who managed to get pregnant via oral sex. Well, via oral sex and a knife fight and a life-threatening wound that allowed the spermatozoa in the girl’s gut to swim into her uterus. This—according to a friend-of-a-friend who knows someone who was there—is not an urban legend. In fact, the story appeared in a 1988 issue of the British Journal Of Obstetrics And Gynaecology and bounced around the blogs for a few weeks last winter after a blogger at Discover unearthed it.

Anyway, BSIC, the moral of the story: never say never. But provided your husband swallows and doesn’t gargle, and provided there isn’t any semen dribbling down his chin, I’d put your chances of getting pregnant under the circumstances you’ve described at pretty darn close to zero. (And not to ruin your day/three-way or anything, but you do know that vasectomies have a 1-in-2,000 failure rate, right? If you do get knocked up after one of those three-ways, BSIC, the bonus baby could still be your husband’s.)