Please disregard my previous e-mail. As of the New Year, my girlfriend is no longer a virgin.
No Longer Dating Virgin Girl
Uh, gee. Sorry about that, NLDVG.
I’m not sorry that your girlfriend is no longer a virgin, of course, as virginity is a scourge that I’ve dedicated my life to stamping out. I’m sorry that I was unable to assist you. I could fob you off with that dodge favored by advice columnists everywhere: “The volume of the mail I receive prevents me from answering every letter I receive blah blah blah.” While it’s true that I receive more letters than I could ever respond to (if your question doesn’t appear in the column within three weeks, people, you’re on your own), that wasn’t the case with your letter.
Fact is, NLDVG, I didn’t answer your question because I was stumped.
When you write an advice column, it looks like you have all the answers because you only run questions for which you have answers. This is as it should be; we need people to think we have all the answers so that they’ll keep sending us their questions. But when we don’t respond to a question, the reader who sent it thinks, “He/she doesn’t care,” or “He/she’s too busy,” or “He/she thought my question wasn’t interesting,” when the reality may be that he/she has no fucking clue. Here, to mark the New Year, are a few other letters that I haven’t answered for want of a clue.
I’m a guy into she-male porn, and I’ve noticed that almost all the models in said porn have very tight scrotums. Like they’re cold. So I’m wondering, what’s the deal? Is it the hormones? Do they employ some kind of preshoot scrotal-tightening technique?
Never Understood Tranny Scrotums
There’s this new pastor at the church I visit. She’s gorgeous, an athlete and can read ancient Greek. I’ve managed to get her to lunch twice, and I spelled out my interest explicitly. She seemed receptive, posited that dating someone in her new congregation could possibly cause issues, but may go hiking with me this weekend. So what’s the protocol for dating a smokin’-hot priestess?
Not Very Good Xian
I am a gay man who has been in a relationship with my partner for nine years. My lover has always planned on undergoing a sex change, male to female. There were money and health problems, but he’s ready now. I’ve always told him that I love him, no matter what. Now he’s gotten his breast implants and I have to admit I am completely weirded out by them. I feel like a hypocrite, but I don’t know what to do! I’ve never been with a woman and I don’t want to be with one now. I also love my partner intensely. Any advice? I feel like a jerk! Support him for nine years and then peace out because of boobs?
Hating Myself And His Breasts
My wife and I enjoy a vigorous BDSM lifestyle and take part in some pretty heavy activities. One we haven’t tried but are anxious to is Tabasco sauce nostrils, clit and anal tissue. Our question: What would we use to cool the burn should the application of Tabasco sauce be too much for her to endure?
Master & Servant
Four years ago, my girlfriend and I made a sex tape. After we broke up, I continued to watch the video, finding myself more turned on by the action now that she was out of my life. I started taking pictures with my digital camera off the television, and before long I was putting these images of her on the internet for others to comment on. The tape is graphic, with clear shots of her face as she goes down on me, rides me and masturbates. I feel terrible – she’s a sweet girl and it wasn’t a bad breakup – but exposing her has become an uncontrollable turn-on for me. I can’t bring myself to throw out the tape, which I feel is the only way I can control this urge. I sound like an awful person, but I can’t seem to help myself. Your thoughts?
Slave To Own Penis
Ah, sometimes the answer is so obvious – take STOP’s question here. There is only one possible response: “Throw the tape out, you fucking piece of low-life shit.” The damage is already done – those clips and images will live online forever, and one day STOP’s ex or her fiancé or her kids or her grandchildren will find them. And then, if there’s any justice, they’ll find STOP and cut his balls off.
But what of the other letters in this column? I’m stumped. Tabasco sauce on the clit? Not into the boyfriend’s new rack? What’s up with she-male sacks? And how do you successfully date a Christian minister who has – let’s face facts – already given your ass the brush-off? I don’t have answers for these folks. If you do, gentle readers, send ’em in and we’ll run the mother of all Savage Love web extras sometime in the next couple of email@example.com