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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.
I’m a gay man and a hunter; he’s a gay boy and a vegan....
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...my usual sexual interests—which involve rope bondage, floggin’, and an e-stim unit—hasn’t worked.
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 bear. A taxidermist 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. Bear’s hardly a bear.
So he liked the rug. Even wanted me to screw him on it—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 when he saw the bear giving me a blowjob. Called me sick and disgusting, and now he won’t let me tie him up or anything. He says he’s afraid I will kill him and screw him. 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 house? Besides that?
You can do this: Draw a distinction between what was going on in that bear’s mouth and what was going on in your head. When a man beats off—with or without a Fleshlight-enhanced bearskin rug—two things are kindasorta 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 Sarah Jessica Parker isn’t.
So your boyfriend walked in and saw you fucking 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—no denying it—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 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. So she knows you’ll be a little nervous the first time you have sex and that there’s going to be some fumbling. But you wanna know a secret? Even sexually experienced adults—even adults who are really good at sex—get nervous, NEWB, and there’s no such thing as sex without some fumbling.
As for concerns about seeming less than manly: You’re bringin’ the dick, NEWB, so you’re the man. Nerves don’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 be honestly and unapologetically who you are. Which is inexperienced. 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 bathroom stalls. Facilities security officers peep through spaces between stall doors 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, aka “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’m familiar with Portland’s Central Library, WIPE; I wrote huge chunks of two 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 when they need to—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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