Why you should care
Because if bad sex is the best you can do, well, then we’re all doomed.
You have sexy questions? Eugene has sexy answers. Write. Now: Eugene@ozy.com
Ganging the Bang
EUGENE, SIR: I don’t want to waste your time, but I’m not 100 percent sure if my question is suitable for your advice column. You see, I’ve been open with a few of my friends about attending gangbangs and swinger parties. They’re all cool with it; I guess they’re interested in hearing stories. It’s not a bragging thing, it’s insight, and I never go into detail or talk about it like a “bro” would. One guy who’s 15 years older than me will randomly bring up, at inappropriate times and places, that I attend such events. He thinks it’s OK because he’s just “taking the piss.”
But it doesn’t come off like that to me. He kind of makes me feel like I should be ashamed of what I do, and he goes on and on about it. I finally called him on it, and he basically said I was whinging and acting like a girl and if I wasn’t ashamed of what I do I should be OK with him taking the piss. I’m still wondering what the underlying issue is with this guy. He’s one of those new age, Mr. Spiritual types — he goes on meditation retreats and doesn’t invite me over to his house because of my “negative energy” — which is why I find his behavior odd. Insight? — Carrera
Dear Turbo: I remember one time, in the days when it was easier to do such things, when someone tried to “prank” call me. I smiled, drew the phone up on my lap and curled into one of my favorite chairs, since it was clearly a sign from G-D that the games had begun. Which is to say, how is it even possible that someone could crank call King Crank? Similarly, if you’re comfortable enough getting down with an audience of onlookers, it doesn’t seem possible that this social interaction would hold much fear for you, as the simplest riposte to your self-selected hater is just to weave him into the scene of the action with some one-word jiu-jitsu:
Any time your friend brings it up at the wrong time, agree and hit him with it. It’ll slow things down. But, in all fairness, you didn’t ask me about that. You asked me about insight. Which I guess was an attempt to get me to go for the easy bait, which I will. Mr. or Ms. “Spiritual” types are always going to be problems. In the same way that people who take lots of psych classes in college do so to help themselves with their own problems, people in touch with invisible friends are prenotifying the rest of us of their fully expected, soon-to-arrive transgressions against common decency and/or common sense.
Apparently, being forgiven means you can do lots of stuff that you need to be forgiven for. Feh. This man is not a friend, but an enemy to be avoided. And it’s pretty clear from the outside that he hates you because he ain’t you.
The Agony of Orgy Ecstasy
EUGENE, SIR: Me and my girlfriend of the past five years are into adventure, so we dared ourselves to go to a sex club orgy. We talked beforehand about how we wanted things to go and decided on a safe word if we found ourselves feeling uncomfortable. Once there, we get into it. One guy nods his way over, my girlfriend looks at me, and I nod too. I mean, this is what we came for. But like with smoking a joint, there’s an orgy time limit, right? After 15 minutes of the guy and my girlfriend screwing, I try to cut back in. He doesn’t notice, and they’re doing missionary, so I can’t get in. He’s also kissing her. Which was not part of our deal. I am stroking her hair and finally get her to look at me and I use the word that we agreed means we should move on, and she mouths, “No, please.” I let her orgasm, but I’m angry. When we left that night, he asked our names, which we weren’t going to use either, and now I know he can find her on Facebook. She says I am being stupid and jealous. Thoughts? — B.C.
Dear Because: If you went to a store and asked for toilet paper and they gave you sandpaper, you might be a little upset. But you went to a sex club and you had enough sex in said club with enough people in attendance that it could comfortably be called an orgy. So far, so good. And you did the right things by laying out rules of the road. Again, good. However, these rules were systematically ignored, and I feel, sadly, in some way responsible. Responsible since while I’ve said that couples must talk about this seriously before they embark on suchlike journeys, I didn’t make it clear enough that we’re still dealing with essentially unstable elements. That is, humans.
Realistically speaking, every time you open a door, you run a risk. That’s the No. 1 understanding people should have before they roll down group sex street. So while you are not being stupid, you have grounds to be pissed. You are being jealous, which makes sense in this instance. The prevailing issue at this point is: How do you keep those two apart? Answer: You can’t. If it’s written, so it’ll be written. In a broader sense, while there is only one of you, there is a great likelihood that there are many who are better in bed than you are. It’s not everything, this “being good in bed” bit, but in the name of group sex scenarios, it’s clearly the name of the game. Hang in, if you can. And if you can’t? Go on your way with much additional understanding.
EUGENE, SIR: Why don’t I feel comfortable with taking on the role of a “bull” in situations involving couples? And what exactly is a “bull”? — Name withheld by request
Dear Mr. Durham: Apart from referring both to a prison guard in old-timey movies and an, um, male cow, a bull is also known as the man chosen by the cuckold, or the cuckolding couple, to please the woman. Usually well-hung and handsome and prone to screwing the wives of others with reckless abandon, the bull is the leading man in this dramatic dance of sex, humiliation, domination and desire. And yeah, it’s a heavy lift, to be embarked on only when your general energy and interest levels allow. Why don’t you feel comfortable with it? Well, you’re either elementally a bull, or you’re not. No faking the funk on this one. Which means if it’s a “role” to you, step aside, sir. Or get stampeded. See, what I did there? Bull? Stampede? It doesn’t get much better than this. No, really, it doesn’t.