Pic Probs, Oral Issues + Orgasm Angst
WHY YOU SHOULD CARE
Because no one ever got sexy by accident.
By Eugene S. Robinson
You have sexy questions? Eugene has sexy answers. Write. Now: Eugene@ozy.com
EUGENE, SIR: My ex keeps pictures of her exes. Not pictures of them windsurfing or at Thanksgiving dinner or something like that. Pictures of penis. She had asked me to fix her computer once and while using some global search term for something I was trying to install, I found a few penis pictures. I’d have said that these were just generic porn or something that she had accidentally downloaded were it not for his smiling face and a date and time stamp that suggested it was sent the week before. I’m a little pissed off, but I know she’s not cheating, so maybe I should just let this slide? Anyway, if I didn’t, how would you think it would most make sense to bring this up? —Elvis
Dear Mr. Magoo: While I know, I know, there’s that whole expression about fire and smoke existing in near proximity to each other, I think I should say here in her defense that the presence of penis pics does not actually indicate the lurking presence of penis. Or rather: Since the path of the righteous woman is beset on all sides with all manner of willing penis, there’s no reason why this penis should prove much more nettlesome than any other penis. Even if it is attached to a smiling ex with a fondness for mailing out pics that might explain why this man is smiling. And, yes, I know I just used the word “penis” five times — six if you count this most recent one.
And for the hat trick: penis.
Anyway, him sending them could be reflexive. It’s cyberflashing that could mean no more or less than “Hey, remember when we used to do this and it was cute and funny and not at all creepy and douchey?” OR it could mean when you were dutifully working away on her computer she was revisiting olden times in the only way she knows how: with a marked appreciation for penis. Specifically, his.
So should you let it slide? Providing she really did give you the computer to work on? No. But how would I bring this up? Well, this is very different from how YOU should bring this up. But using his pics as her laptop wallpaper might be a nice way to break the conversational ice. Not so passive-aggressive as it is aggressive-aggressive, this opening gambit then allows you to “act” reasonable when discussing how genitalia pic exchanges — while not a BIG deal, unless they are — might be construed as a sign that your relationship is shifting into open waters. If she agrees, you know your course. If she doesn’t? Well, then you’re stuck in the uncomfortable position of having to believe someone who your gut is telling you to not believe.
Proceed with caution, whichever way you go.
EUGENE, SIR: I think I am done giving blow jobs. For probably two dozen reasons, but the ones that come to my mind the quickest are:
- They’re not returned nearly as many times as they are given.
- Men don’t want to kiss you afterward.
- If they orgasm, then they don’t want to have sex again afterward.
- You never know if you’re doing it right or well, and no one will tell you.
- It’s demeaning.
I’m not looking for you to talk me out of this. I am looking for you to help me explain this so it doesn’t sound like I hate sex. —Leah
Dear Ms. That’s All I Can Stands + I Can’t Stands No More: You know, it doesn’t sound like you hate sex. But it DOES sound like you hate sex with a certain sub-strata of man. Specifically: the dumbass. And if you’ve had three or four dumbasses in a row it’s hard to tell you and have you believe it that there are non-dumbasses out there. However, I’m going to zig here instead of zag when I tell you that they are actually not the problem. YOU are the problem. I mean, how many times can one person choose the poison mushroom? Well, if it was a real poison mushroom? Only once. But dumbasses? If one were so inclined, you could pick these forever. IF.
So let’s try this for a bit: let others choose for you for just a bit before you start your anti-fellatio fellowship. Whether it’s a friend or a computer algorithm, it may be that they can’t do much worse. If you’re still unearthing dumbasses it’d be socially irresponsible to continue fellating them. And you can tell them I said so.
EUGENE, SIR: If my man orgasms before me, he goes crazy trying to get me off after. At first it was cute. But now I find myself resenting the pressure. Is there a nice way to tell him to ease up without him thinking I’m OK with never having an orgasm again? —Name withheld
Dear Being Careful of What You’re Wishing For: If you’re sleeping and someone in the next room is playing their music too loud, you might stand up, go next door and tell them to turn it down. If the music’s so loud that the person doesn’t hear you when you scream that the music’s too loud, you might even walk across the room and turn it down yourself. You might do any number of different things, but I don’t think you’d write me and ask me what to do. But we get passive sometimes when sex is involved. So, post-his orgasm, when he’s going acrobatic on you, you’re doing what exactly? If you’re doing anything other than returning the two of you to the field of play — not grimly, not frantically, but playfully — then you’re both going to get caught in this hell of “trying too hard.” Don’t be there. This is supposed to be fun. Make it so. Keep it so.