My boyfriend doesn’t like snowballing, which I’m fine with. However, he won’t even kiss me after oral sex, even if I’ve already swallowed. I feel like he sees me as dirty or nasty when he refuses to kiss me after oral sex. He says he wouldn’t ask me to do something I didn’t want to do, so I shouldn’t ask him to kiss me after I get him off with my mouth. I’ve told him that I won’t give him oral sex if he won’t kiss me after it’s over. He says that’s fine. I am so annoyed by this. Am I being unreasonable?
San Francisco Fan
First things first: Some of my very young, very old, or very sheltered readers (hello there, Mom) are no doubt asking themselves, “What is this snowballing shit?” Well, simply kissing someone who’s just finished...
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...asking themselves, “What is this snowballing shit?” Well, simply kissing someone who’s just finished giving you head isn’t snowballing. That’s just gratitude, appropriately expressed. When a couple snowballs, the person giving head (PG) doesn’t swallow after the person receiving head (PR) comes. Instead, the PG retains the semen in his or her mouth, and then kisses the PR. As they kiss, the PG passes the wad of semen into the PR’s mouth. Yes, I know: YUCK. But it’s not over. The PR, mouth filled with his or her own come, passes the come back into the mouth of the PG, who passes it back into the mouth of the PR, who passes it back into the mouth of the PG–and back and forth the wad of semen goes, mixing with more and more saliva, the wad getting bigger and bigger with each pass (snowballing, get it?) until either the PG or the PR decides to swallow or spit, or one or the other or both of them drowns. Yes, Mother: YUCK.
Back to you, SFF: Your boyfriend’s reluctance to snowball is completely understandable for reasons of, well, YUCK. As for his reluctance to kiss you after he comes in your mouth–well, that’s a common, low-grade straight-boy phobia. He fears that a single taste of his own semen will either turn him gay or cause you to doubt his professed heterosexuality. And, of course, he could be one of those nonhomophobic straight guys, with no fear of induced or perceived homosexuality, who simply doesn’t like the taste of his own come on your tongue or the smell of his own crotchstank on your face.
What to do? Don’t blow this out of proportion. (Har. Har. Har.) Eliminating oral sex from your routine seems an extreme reaction to a relatively common and easily accommodated sexual hang-up/matter of personal taste. You might try asking him if a quick swig of water or juice–enough to wash away his doomed DNA and its bitter aftertaste–would set his mind at ease. If it does, keep a bottle of something next to the bed. With any luck he’ll feel silly watching you gargle and learn to love kissing your come-flavored piehole–I mean, learn to love showing his gratitude.
My wife and I are pretty adventurous and impulsive, which sometimes leads to us having sex in public. We’re careful to make sure only adults are around when we have some fun. But, man, there are some uptight adults in Orange County! We were going at it outside a bar in Laguna Beach when a couple in their 40s walked by. The look of horror on the woman’s face was unbelievable as she watched my wife swallowing my sword. The guy was a bit better, but not by much. What do you think–can most adults in Orange County turn coal into diamonds when it’s inserted in their asses, or what?
Horny Open Twosome
People don’t come much more sexually adventurous than me, HOT. I’ll bet you anything you like that I could beat your ass at a game of “Can You Top This?” But you know what? I wouldn’t want to watch your wife swallow your sword any more than that poor woman outside the bar did.
Like a lot of sexually adventurous exhibitionists, HOT, you flatter yourself. You’re hip and open and free, and everyone in Orange County is square and repressed. Bullshit. The fact that some lady doesn’t want to watch your wife choke on your cock is not evidence that she’s sexually repressed–just as your willingness to involve other people in your sexual games is not proof that you’re sexually adventurous. It’s only proof that you’re an asshole. Public sex is all well and good, and the risk of getting caught can be a thrill. But going at it someplace where you’re sure to be seen is rude and presumptuous. Maybe that couple outside the bar were in the middle of a fight. Maybe they were coming from a friend’s funeral. Or, hey, maybe you and the wife aren’t all that much to look at.
To sum up: Just because you get off on being seen, it doesn’t mean everyone else on Earth is obligated to get off on seeing you. If you really want people to watch your wife suck your dick, make some amateur porn and let ’em rent the video.
Okay, Dan, here’s one for you: I don’t know what to do. I’ve got a crush on the Tim Hortons guy! I’m a down-to-earth, normal fag like all the rest. I’ve had my fun, tried some things: I’ve been pissed on, been in orgies, worn leather–you know, all the regular stuff. But what do I do now?? HE WORKS AT TIM HORTONS!
First, for my readers in the United States, Europe, and Asia, and on our ships at sea: Tim Hortons is an iconic chain of donut-and-coffee places in Canada. (Picture a Starbucks/Krispy Kreme hybrid.) Now, MQ, why don’t you just ask the Tim Hortons guy out on a date? Or is an old, tired, been-there-fucked-that slut like you too good for a guy who works in a coffee shop? And while we’re on the subject of hitting on coffee-shop workers…
What you were thinking when you advised a 40-year-old guy to tell a 20-year-old barista about his sexual feelings for her? I was thinking about writing you to complain, when a barista who works in the coffeehouse I run informed me that a man had told her he’d written the letter about her! Gross! Who wants to serve someone while possessing the knowledge that he spends “way too much time thinking about exploding [his] rocket all over her”?!
Let me clarify things for people with crushes on baristas: People get crushes on customer-service workers all the time. Think what a hellish existence they would have if everyone with a crush felt compelled to let them know about it. I don’t care if there’s a war on–keep it to yourself. If you are one of the people considering making this bold move, please do everyone a favor and don’t. Print my letter, Dan, because I have a hunch that hundreds of men around the country have told hundreds of baristas that they wrote that letter in Savage Love. Sign me…
Start Telling Annoying Retards Baristas Unlikely Conquests, Knowing Savage
Thanks for sharing, STARBUCKS.
Next week: Tons of advice for FAG, the 15-year-old wannabe sex slave with the 38-year-old wannabe master.