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A couple of weeks ago I convinced my girlfriend to dress up in her old school
uniform for sex. We started going out long after high school ended, so I never
got a chance to do the deed with her in uniform. I get the feeling she didn’t
enjoy herself as much as I did (I think she just felt silly), and since that first
time she hasn’t been quite so open in our lovemaking. I haven’t asked her to dress
up again and I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t. I was hoping you could help me restore
her damaged ego. I’d also like to know if there’s any chance of seeing her in
uniform again.

Uniform Man

When someone kinky (you) talks someone who isn’t kinky (your girlfriend) into
doing something kinky (fucking around in a high-school uniform), the kinky person

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...your girlfriend) into doing something kinky (fucking around in a high-school uniform), the kinky person should spend at least as much time talking and handholding after the kinky sex goes down as he did cajoling for the kinky sex. As soon as you were done, you should’ve checked in with the girlfriend: “I had a great time, thanks. Did you have fun?” “Did I do anything that made you feel uncomfortable?” “Is there anything you wanna talk about?” What may have seemed slightly kinky and relatively low-stakes to you, the person whose kink was being indulged, may have seemed shameful, wicked, and edgy to your girlfriend. Clearly she has some issues with what went down that night. What could those issues be? Hmm… maybe she’s worried that you’re really into high school girls and that she’s too old for you? Or maybe she feels ashamed of herself for faking underage sex. Or, hey, maybe she just felt silly. All she probably needs from you is some reassurance (you’re not going to run off with an 11th grader, it’s just a fantasy, she looked sexy, etc.). The sooner you get her talking about it, the likelier she’ll put that uniform on for you again. A good friend of mine, let’s call him “Dave,” has a boyfriend, let’s call him “Mike.” While recently visiting a gay strip club, I ran into Mike. Stripping. Mike acknowledged me and was very social. Feeling uncomfortable, I didn’t tip him and avoided contact. The question is, do I bring this up with Dave? A Dancing Dilemma Think for a moment, ADD: If Mike was stripping and keeping it secret from Dave, how do you think Mike would react when a friend of Dave’s came strolling into the club? He probably wouldn’t be very social, now would he? So my guess would be that Dave knows Mike strips. Should you bring this up with Dave? Yes, you should. Mention what you witnessed in passing (“Saw Mike at the strip club, Dave. God, he’s got a nice ass….”), and I’ll bet you dollars to dirtclumps that Dave will tell you he knows and then bitch you out for not tipping Mike. I am 26 years old and in a respectful but super-sexual relationship with a recent divorcée in her 40s. (A “cougar,” in local slang.) Though we have really great sex, I’m not interested in a more meaningful relationship. The trouble is that she says she wants to move “to the next level,” while I am quite content with our crazy fantasy sex. I don’t want to get mixed up with her kids or her messed-up life. Is it dishonest of me to keep her for the sex while constantly ignoring her pleas for “a meaningful relationship”? Cougar Hunting in Canada When you tell someone you want a more meaningful relationship and that person keeps coming around, it’s only natural to assume that the person is at least open to the idea of building a more meaningful relationship. Since you aren’t open to that idea, by continuing to come around you’re allowing this woman to assume something that’s false. So, yes indeed, CHIC, you are being dishonest–and cruel. You don’t want a more meaningful relationship, you just want the crazy fantasy sex. She needs to know that, so that she can make an informed decision about whether or not she wants to keep having crazy fantasy sex with you. Time to lay your cards on the table, hunterboy. I’m very much in love with my wife. We’ve been married for two years, and are the closest of friends. Unfortunately, she’s not my type physically. For the hell of it, say I married a Midwestern farm girl and I’m into Asian chicks, big time. It kills me that I’m so shallow; I have everything I could want in a wife except for this inconsequential thing. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life pining away for women I’m hard-wired to desire but can never have. And I do love my wife, because she’s a self-reliant, smart, caring, funny woman who sees something good in me, and we have good times. And it’s not her fault she’s not an Asian hottie and doesn’t thrill me. Any sage words? Something over Seattle Here are some sage words: You’re a fucking idiot. If you knew that only Asian women turned your crank, then you shouldn’t have married a Midwestern farm girl. Now you’ll either have to suffer in silence, get a divorce, or rent the occasional Asian hottie on business trips. Cripes. You devoted a line in your column to deriding some poor schmuck who wanted to know what to call it when a guy eats out a girl during her period, but you didn’t answer his question. My boy wanted to go down on me in the middle of a period, but said he didn’t feel like earning his “red wings” that night. And although you didn’t ask, we do sometimes screw during my flow. Since I tend to be on top, the resultant mess is what we call “the car wreck.” Thank goodness for soap and water! A Happy Female Top in California You weren’t the only person to send a suggested name for eating a woman out during her period, although your suggestion–red wings–was by far the most popular. Other suggestions: “cold pizza,” “crimson tide,” “The Hunt for Red October,” “puttin’ on war paint,” “rainbow kiss,” “angel kiss,” “bush vampire,” “chumming,” and finally, um, “dangerous and stupid.” Eating a woman out during her period is, of course, high-risk for absolutely everything, which I neglected to scold Phil about. That’s blood, boys, so if your girl has got HIV, hepatitis, or Ebola, you might wanna skip earning your red wings. Speaking of names for things, this was the week I was supposed to reveal the winner of the “one-word name for women fucking men in their butts with strap-on dildos” election. Savage Love readers were invited to vote for one of three possible candidates–punt, peg, and bob–and more than 10,000 of you voted. It’s a great day for democracy, of course, but our vote counter (that’s me) was a little overwhelmed. Considering how much I bitched about Republicans stopping the vote count in Florida last November, I feel honor-bound to count every single vote in my inbox. So it’s going to be a week or two, folks. Hang tight. letters@savagelove.net