I am currently dating a guy who is nice, funny and has a good “dating résumé” (never married, good job, no issues). I have a good time when we are together and he treats me fine. The problem is that we have the most ridiculously boring sex. Super vanilla, totally predictable, and I never come. There’s no foreplay, he rarely eats pussy, and when he does it’s not good. It’s totally frustrating, but I try not to put too much weight on it since other aspects of our relationship are ideal.
As a result of this, I have started to have sex with my ex. He and I have the most incredible sex. It’s kinky, delicious, and the most satisfying I’ve ever had in my life. He worships my pussy. He carries a pair of my panties in his pocket and just knowing this makes me want him even more. The reason our relationship ended, though, was that he’s very committed to his job, which leaves little room for a significant relationship. Thanks to my mini–midlife crisis, I think I fucked up a good thing. I have someone now who I could be in a committed relationship with, but it’s sexually unsatisfying and suddenly I could give a rat’s ass about a “significant relationship.”
How much weight should a person put on good sex in a long-term relationship? I can’t imagine having to masturbate for the rest of my life just to end up with Mr. Nice Guy. What should I do?
An Unmarried Woman
How much weight the average person should place on good sex in an LTR is irrelevant, AUW. The relevant question is how much weight you should put on good sex in your LTR. And your slutty, slutty actions of late reveal the answer: shitloads.
You’re dating a nice, funny guy who treats you well – he’s marriage material! – but the sex is so lousy you’re cheating on him with your non-marriage-material ex. So what have we learned about ourselves in our current relationship? That you’re the type of person who will cheat on a nice, funny guy if she feels deprived of good, hot sex. Therefore it would be in your best interest – and your future husband’s best interest – to be with a guy who isn’t merely nice and funny, but also good and hot. Wouldn’t you agree?
So here’s what you need to do about this mess: Provided you’ve told Mr. Nice Guy you’re not satisfied, introduced him to a few of your kinks, and given him pointers on how you like your pussy eaten, all to no avail, then it’s time to dump the motherfucker already. He needs to find a woman who isn’t interested in hot sex, or thinks the sex he enjoys is hot, and marry her. If you’re still interested in an LTR and your hot ex isn’t, you need to stop fucking your ex and pour that energy into finding a nice, funny man who is marriage material and great in bed. They’re out there.
I’m a 42-year-old gay man with a superhero fetish. Like a lot of fetishists my age, I assumed I was alone until the Internet came along. I’ve since met several times with like-minded guys for costumed roughhousing and bondage. The first time I did it, it was incredibly hot, but since then, it’s felt like something’s missing. Even when they’re sexy and friendly, it just feels lacking somehow. At times, I even feel a bit ridiculous. (Given that I’m a white-collar professional pretending to be a Lycra-suited crime-fighter, I’m sure it’s not much of a stretch to see why I feel silly.) So my question is this: Am I just being too uptight, or are there some fantasies that are better left to the imagination?
Some fantasies are better left to the imagination, PTB, but yours hardly strikes me as one of them. A superhero/bondage fetish – always a combo platter, thanks to the frequency with which Lycra-clad superheroes are bound and gagged – is charming and harmless compared to some other fetishes. But if acting on your fantasies isn’t working for you, if indulging makes you feel bad, well, then don’t indulge.
I have to say, though, that my superpowers detect a conflict between the person you are in your everyday life (white-collar professional) and the person you are in your erotic imagination (Lycra-clad superhuman), with the former viewing the latter as slightly ridiculous. Perhaps you’ll feel better about acting on your fetish if you accept that it is a bit ridiculous and reassure yourself that there’s nothing wrong with making yourself a bit ridiculous in pursuit of sexual pleasure. Everybody feels a bit ridiculous after sex, even if they’re not washing spunk out of their Batman costume. Lighten up and enjoy.
Your advice to Auntie Mame last week is a pristine example of why I love your column!
I’m glad you appreciated my advice for Auntie Mame, who was concerned about how her brother is treating her swishy 5-year-old nephew. But not everyone agrees. To read more letters about my advice for Auntie Mame, go to email@example.com