Kinktronics, Sex Signals + the Dirt on Skirts
WHY YOU SHOULD CARE
Because the road of 1,000 journeys starts with but one step … to the bedroom.
By Eugene S. Robinson
A Kink Too Far
EUGENE, SIR: I’m as adventurous as the next gal and have been gladly and willingly engaged in light bondage, threesomes and a bunch of other stuff my partner initiated but I also like. This has lately turned to technology and sex technology and now the vibrator app that lets him, I don’t know, text a vibrator that I wear from his iPhone whenever he wants to send an “orgasm text.” How do I say “hell, no” to this without seeming like a bitch? — Name withheld
Dear Michele Ma Bell: Hey, wait a minute … who could resist having their sex life atomized by the “world’s first wearable smart vibrator” or the prospect of it being a simple thumb swipe away from Yelp and Uber? Well, I mean outside of YOU. And me. And just about anyone else rejecting wholesale this whole two-step-forward-eight-steps-back approach to modern sexuality that welds our desire for sexy kink with our need for NEW and NOVEL. Until they invent sex cyborgs or androids that we can’t tell from the real thing, it all just stinks of making silk purses out of sow’s ears. Which is to say: a dressing up of that which, if done right, places the participants well beyond having any time, interest or inclination in genital gewgaws.
But this betrays my personal preferences for the organic. Maybe I’m just simple enough to find the basic pleasures of getting from Point A to Point B, from me naked to me feeling completely and totally satisfied, to be something I don’t want to be anyone’s pocket-size technology.
This, however, is not about me. It’s about you and your partner and your partner’s sort of Sex ADD, and the reality of it is at least they’re wanting to do this with YOU and part of that has to do with your gameness. I am quite sure that without that, your partner would not have even taken a swing at such things that would warrant an email to me. So you don’t want to be a nattering nabob of negativity but you do want to beg off. But beg off for good reasons.
It could be great. And if it is great, why not share that greatness? Buy two, kit out your partner with one and you can spend all of your work time texting each other uncomfortably and possibly unsuccessful attempts at orgasm creation. For 99 dollars. Oy yoi yoi.
EUGENE, SIR: I may be borderline Asperger’s, but what most people understand as flirting confuses me. Especially places it could get me in trouble. Like at work. So, like, women bending over to hand me things at my desk so their tops sort of gently fall open? Is that a come on or what? If I get caught looking is that a bust? How come not a single man has ever had to bend over to hand me anything while I am at work? They just reach their arms out and hand it to me! — Eyes Wide Shut
Dear Benny Hill: Oh, man. Look, sometimes life is all about subtle measures, and there are no clear-cut reasons why people do what they do outside of the fact that, like birds singing, it’s all about putting stuff up in the air and making joyful noises. Your co-workers could be coming on to you. Or they could be bored. They could be interested. Or just goofing off. Because this is what humans do. But I would return to the sage words of Sex With Eugene’s resident physician Dr. Steve Ballinger and say that no one is going to bother you if they’re not attracted to you, “even if your car is on fire.”
However, what’s much more likely? You’re losing your mind. Which I can’t help you with and wouldn’t even try.
But I will try to address the issue. Is “looking” a bust? Nope. Not without a consistent pattern of asshole behavior to back it up. Looking is sometimes just looking. Don’t do it too long, as humans and subhuman primates hate to be stared at and there is a difference. What’s the difference? Probably one second is a look. Twenty-five seconds is felony menacing.
EUGENE, SIR: In a drunken moment a girl I know told a girl she knows that her boyfriend likes to wear skirts and be pegged. I can’t really look at him anymore because we’re in a relatively small community of athletes. A community now divided into those who hate the girlfriend for telling tales out of school and those spreading those tales. I’m from a minority third group that thinks this is no one else’s business. How can I make this known without making this a thing and drawing more attention to it? — Do Tell?
Dear Omerta: Pegging, which means that he occasions his girlfriend pleasuring him via a strap-on dildo. Rectally. Might be off the beaten path, depending on where you live, but no matter where you live the song remains the same: minding your own business is the key to good dental health. Tempting to chatter about it, but as significant as chattering about someone’s flossing habits really. Here’s a handy-dandy phrase that advances your position in no uncertain terms: Who gives a shit?