Could you tell my boy to calm the heck down? Can’t seem to get him to get the difference between bestiality, necrophilia, and screwin’ a bearskin rug. Emphasizing my usual sexual interests—which involve rope bondage, floggin’, and an e-stim unit—hasn’t worked. Logic isn’t helpin’ out at all. Maybe you can help?
I’m a gay man and a hunter; he’s a gay boy and a vegan. But he likes how I look in my camo, holding a rifle, so it works. Last fall, I went to Idaho and shot a black bear and a 13-point buck. A taxidermist mounted the buck’s head, which hangs above my bed, and made the bear into a rug. Most people don’t know this, but the head on a bearskin rug is entirely fake except for the fur. The skull, teeth, and tongue are plastic, and the eyes are glass. That bear’s hardly a bear, if you catch me.
So we got the rug, and he liked it. Even wanted me to screw him spread-eagle on that rug—until he walked in while I was doing it with the bear. I rigged up the mouth with one of those Fleshlight things, pretty much as a joke, but my boy freaked out when he saw the bear giving me a blowjob of sorts. Called me sick and disgusting, and ever since then, he won’t let me tie him up or beat him or anything. He says he’s afraid I will kill him and then screw him. I keep telling him it was all just a game, but he won’t believe it. What can I do?
Bear Grinned Anyway
What can you do? You mean besides send video of you and your bear in action to prove this isn’t the most entertaining fake letter I’ve received since Michelle Obama invited me to dinner at Sarah Jessica Parker’s apartment? What can you do besides that?
You can do this: You can draw a distinction between what was going on in that bear’s mouth when your boyfriend walked in and what was going on in your head. When a man beats off—with or without a Fleshlight-enhanced bearskin rug—two things are kinda-sorta happening simultaneously: what the man is doing with his dick and what the man is imagining he’s doing with his dick. Guys who beat off using a clenched fist, for example, generally aren’t clenched-fist fetishists; they’re just horny, and their fists are there, and, say, Sarah Jessica Parker isn’t. Fists provide necessary friction; imaginations provide sexy scenarios.
So your boyfriend walked in and saw you fucking the face of a dead bear. That’s gonna look bad, BGA, even to a boyfriend who isn’t vegan. So how do you fix it? By patiently explaining to your vegan boyfriend that while, yes, you were face-fucking a bear when he walked in on you—there’s no denying that—you weren’t thinking about face-fucking a bear. Tell him you were thinking about him, and the bear’s mouth was just a convenient place to wedge your vegan-boyfriend-substitute, i.e., your Fleshlight. Tell your boyfriend you don’t entertain any murderous fantasies, tell him you only long to fuck living things, and tell him that Homo sapiens are the only animals you find attractive.
Tell him all of that, BGA, even if not all of that is entirely true.
I’m a 17-year-old male, and I’m currently in a relationship with a girl who was “sexually active” before we got together. Me being a virgin, I think you can understand why I might be nervous when things get heated. I would like to engage in the act with her eventually, but I don’t know if she wants a virgin fumbling around in bed with her. And it’s not particularly manly to go to someone and basically say, “I’m not going to be good at this for a while.” Not exactly a turn-on. I feel she’s ahead of me in experience. What would be the best advice you could give me on the subject?
Nerves Entirely Wrecking Boy
If your girlfriend is close to you in age, NEWB, the odds that she’s any good at sex are vanishingly slim, her prior sexual activity notwithstanding. Some people have a knack for sex, of course, but almost all teenagers are lousy at sex. Trust me, NEWB: I was a teenager once, a teenager who slept with other teenagers, and I was lousy at sex, and so were they.
Now here’s my advice: Chill the fuck out. Presumably, your girlfriend likes you, NEWB, and knows you’re a virgin. Which means she knows you’ll be a little nervous the first time you two have sex—the first time you have sex—and there’s probably going to be some fumbling. But you wanna know a secret? Even sexually experienced adults—even adults who are really good at sex and have had tons of it—still get nervous, NEWB, and there’s no such thing as sex without some fumbling.
As for your concerns about seeming less than manly: You’re bringin’ the dick, NEWB, so you’re the man. Your nerves won’t render you dickless. If you’re worried about displaying a manly confidence, well, you can still do that: Go into your first sexual experience confident that your girlfriend is into you and confident that she wants you, and be honestly and unapologetically who you are. Being yourself is far more manly than pretending to be someone or something you’re not, NEWB, and there’s nothing less manly than pussing out on a new experience for fear of appearing unmanly. Honest nerves are manlier than false bravado.
One last thing to do before you lose your virginity: Watch a weekend marathon of 16 And Pregnant on MTV. That show will inspire you to use condoms religiously and correctly, NEWB, every single time. Even if your girlfriend is or claims to be using hormonal birth control, wrap your manly ol’ dick up before you slide it inside.
Following up on the letter about masturbating in the privacy of a public toilet stall: Guys are being banned from Multnomah County libraries in Portland, Oregon, for wanking in the supposed privacy of locked bathroom stalls. Facilities security officers peep through spaces between stall doors and write up reports that go into detail about “shiny liquids” spotted on offenders’ hands, and those who are caught are excluded from the libraries for a year. I thought “sexual activity” required a partner and masturbation wasn’t a crime if practiced in private—but tell that to the peeping uniformed officers working in the Central Library, a.k.a. “Portland’s Crown Jewel.” You can’t go to a locked bathroom stall and rub one out, on pain of landing on the Excluded Patrons List as a masturbator. Victorian prudery lives.
Wanking In Private Environs
The letter writer who got caught wanking in a public toilet had taken pains to find an empty men’s restroom on a deserted floor of an office building. He wanted to have his midday wank, WIPE, without disturbing or unnerving others. I don’t think the same could be said for the men who are rubbing ’em out in the toilets of Portland’s Central Library.
Look, I’m familiar with Portland’s Central Library, WIPE; I wrote huge chunks of two of my books there. The toilets are crowded, and there’s no way you can beat off in one without disturbing others. I don’t have a problem with people rubbing ’em out—hello—but guys who get off in public toilets because they get off on public toilets are forcing other people to serve as props in their masturbatory fantasies. And that ain’t cool.
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