I have a swim-cap fetish. I don’t
know why; it’s not like I saw my grandmother bathing with a shower cap
on or anything like that. My GGG girlfriend is willing to wear a swim
cap during sex, and I think that’s wonderful, but it goes beyond that.
I go to the pool several times a week on the way home from work. Not
because I like swimming or need the exercise, but because I want to see
women in swim caps. My girlfriend doesn’t know about this; she thinks I
am just working late. I feel bad about lying, but I can’t bring myself
to tell her. Is this cheating?
Swim Caps Are
Really Erotic
You’re not cheating, SCARE, but you’re
acting like you are—and that has to be the dumbest fucking thing
you could possibly do. If you lie and sneak around and hide the fact
that you’ve been...
...cheating, SCARE, but you’re
acting like you are—and that has to be the dumbest fucking thing
you could possibly do. If you lie and sneak around and hide the fact
that you’ve been swimming—swimming—then your
girlfriend is going to react like you’ve been cheating on her when she
discovers that you’ve been
swimming—swimming—behind her back.
Any girlfriend GGG enough to wear a swim cap
during sex is going to be GGG enough to let her boyfriend check out
other girls in swim caps at the pool. She may laugh and roll her
eyes—with affection, hopefully—when you ask for her
permission, but a little good-natured ribbing from an indulgent partner
is a small price to pay.
Please tell all the “better than
everyone else” Bible thumpers out there that I’m not a perv. I am an
Adult Little Girl, or LG (a person who enjoys age-regress play), and a
Bible-thumping “friend” verbally bashed me after finding a picture of
me in my LG persona on a website. He called me a perverted faggot and a
child molester.
First, like most crossdressers, I’m
straight. Second, I’ve been happily married for 10 years to a loving
and understanding woman. Third, I’ve never been molested and I don’t
have mommy or daddy issues. I’m more sane than most!
The comment came from a man who has been
divorced four times. He is also a serial adulterer who caught at least
one STI from a prostitute!
Someone’s Little
Girl
I’m happy to tell all the “better than you”
Bible thumpers out there that you’re not a perv, SLG, but it’s not
going to do any good.
Your friend, like a lot of Bible thumpers,
needs to feel morally superior to someone. And looking down
his nose at you in your little-girl dresses and me in my big fag
relationship allows him to feel morally superior at absolutely no cost
to himself. He doesn’t have to refrain from fucking hookers or cheating
on his parade of spouses to get right with his make-believe God. He
need only refrain from doing things he has no desire to
do—sucking dick, dancing around in dresses—in order to go
to his wholly imaginary God’s entirely fictitious heaven.
So, SLG, who cares if he thinks you’re a
perv? You are a bit of a perv. So am I. And we’re happily
married pervs and he’s a miserable “normal man” with multiple alimony
payments to make and kids who despise him and, without a doubt, one or
two sexual urges that he’s too terrified to act on. We’ve got the much
better deal, SLG, even if we have to put up with being called “perv” by
scum every now and then.
I’ve been happily married for eight
years. My wife and I have sex once or twice a week. But I have a
serious problem: I’m addicted to pornography.
I keep a stash of porn in a drawer at work.
Three times a week, my lunch hour is spent jerking off in the
handicapped stall of a public restroom. And that’s only the beginning.
I have a fetish for shit. An ideal experience for me is to save up my
bowel movement until my lunch hour, go to my favorite restroom, and
time it just right so that I empty my bowels right before the moment of
ejaculation. An extra bonus is if someone arrives at one of the other
stalls and takes a shit. The sound and smell of it excites me even more
(I am definitely not gay). And once the person leaves, I finish with a
head-shattering orgasm.
After a really good one, I sometimes smear
my shit on the walls of the stall. I feel very disgusted afterward. I’m
not hurting anyone, but this seems wrong. Should I talk to
someone?
Addicted In Los Angeles
Yeah, AILA, you should definitely talk to
someone: the janitors who have to clean up after you. You owe them an
apology and tens of thousands of dollars worth of restitution.
Eesh.
I’m trying to decide what’s more hilarious
about your letter—that you think a “porn addiction” is your
problem or that you felt obligated to include “definitely not gay” in a
parenthetical. Uh, AILA? There are lots of straight guys out there with
porn stashes and thrice-weekly-or-more masturbation routines who
somehow resist the urge to smear shit all over bathroom stalls. But,
hey, on behalf of gay men everywhere I want to thank you for
identifying as straight. And we encourage you to be particularly
insistent on that point when you finally get arrested. We don’t need
any more toilet-related bad press just now, thanks.
I have been with my girlfriend for
over three years. Our relationship has come to the point where we feel
that we should either get married or go our separate ways. She is a
great girl: smart, nice, trustworthy. We have a lot of fun together.
There’s just one problem: She hates sex. In her opinion, “sex isn’t
supposed to be fun.” She also thinks our sex life is fine. But every
time we talk about marriage, all I can think about is a lifetime of bad
sex!
Not Totally Screwed
Don’t marry this woman, NTS. Not unless you
want to be sending me a letter like this one in two short years…
My wife of two years has no interest
in sex. My “love life” consists of my right hand and internet porn.
I’ve tried giving her time without bringing it up, bringing it up,
setting the mood with candles, taking care of all the housework,
cuddling—everything. But our sex life is dead like Dillinger. I
don’t want to DTMFA because we have a kid. But I can’t stay in this
situation forever. Is there some age at which kids are best able to
handle a divorce?
Think About The Child
The literature is all over the place on the
least worst time in a child’s life for his parents to divorce. If
you’re sure the sex life is not just really dead, but really most
sincerely dead—if it’s not hormones or depression or
stress—divorce now and get it over with.
Download Savage Lovecast (my weekly
podcast) every Tuesday at www.thestranger.com/savage.
mail@savagelove.net