Why you should care
Because private parts are tricky things.
You have sexy questions? Eugene has sexy answers. Write. Now: Eugene@ozy.com
One-Man Woman, Many-Woman Man
EUGENE, SIR: I’m in a sticky comfort vs. pleasure situation here. I met my soul mate three years ago and we’ve been together happily since. We’re both creatives in our early 20s, so we have very open, challenging discussions about life and sex. We’re cool about each other’s weird bits (he has sexting friends and, in general, we discuss women and men sexually, and I’m not sure what’s not weird about me), so we’re in an almost open relationship. I am mostly monogamous and not interested in other men or women. I’ve had sex with only two men: my high school boyfriend and my current, and I don’t really feel I’ve missed out on anything.
I listed all this for context: Basically, our sexual relationship has deteriorated over the past year. I’m feeling less desired by him and we have sex only about twice a month. He told me our sex life is boring. I’ve thought about seducing him or going to a sex place, but he’s not interested. I’m starting to feel that he just wants to have other girls in all the dirty ways he’s talked about, and keep me in some safe and pure space. I feel like his mom or something, and when I said as much, we had a very bad two days, so I’m avoiding another talk.
I love him so much and I feel like I’m giving him all the freedom and attention he needs. I feel less and less sexy, though, and I see it in the mirror and in my responses to people and my interests (how can a penis going in my vagina have such a massive effect on my entire being?!). I really want HIM to fuck me, not anyone else, and I’m very bad at asking him for it. Once, when I did ask him, he got upset that I’m not satisfied, and the last thing I want to do is hurt his man pride. I have spoken to some guys to see if maybe I can use another man’s penis/sex talk, but it’s just not me.
What the hell am I supposed to do? I must say I’m being catcalled and approached and checked out, so I’m not a freak. I’m starting to become one, though, with the sex diet I’m on. — Ara
Dear Me + My Arrow: First of all, anyone NOT in their 20s will be glad to share a secret with you: Very few people in their 20s meet their soul mates. And I’m not just making that up. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, people in their early 20s run the highest risk of divorce should they choose to marry. Now, that doesn’t mean that it will happen to you, just like statistics on crocodile attacks shouldn’t dissuade you from swimming with crocodiles. However, it should make you ask the question popularized by chair-talker and steely American icon Clint Eastwood, “Do you feel lucky?”
Based on the entire context of your letter, I’d guess not. Moreover, I am guessing that your man is SWS (Signaling Without Saying), and what he’s signaling is: It’s over.
How do I know?
Because ideally, relationships should make you feel better and better about yourself, not worse. I suspect you know this, but you’re jumping ahead and asking me the question you’ll eventually want to ask him, which is: What did I do wrong? And honestly, you’d do better asking me than him, mostly because I won’t bullshit you. You did nothing wrong, but no matter how you try, you can’t be not you. Which is significant, since what he wants and needs here is someone other than you. Not because you’re bad/wrong, but because the road to relationship enlightenment begins with finding out what good/right means.
So let him go. He might come back. But that should not be your goal. Your goal should be just what his is: finding out what good/right means. And this very definitely means looking beyond him.
The Kiss of an Angel
EUGENE, SIR: My new husband told me intimate details about his ex and asked me to do a “trick” that she used to do. I researched it and believe it to be the “Singapore kiss,” in which the vagina suctions the penis during intercourse. My problem is that I can’t do it, even after research and six months of exercise. I believe that a past episiotomy is the reason, and my OB-GYN almost passed out when I asked her about this. The situation has caused me to feel insecure and resentful and I find my sex drive is gone. Please help. — Luann H.
Dear Honolulu: Your husband is a clod. But he’s your husband, so now we’re just trying for harm reduction since it sounds like no one is getting divorced over this. So yes, it is called the Singapore kiss, or pompoir, and it involves extreme vaginal control, and not just for the man’s pleasure either, as women have reported more intense orgasms as a result of being able to better control things. It’s like Kegel exercises, but it is to Kegel as functional core fitness is to yoga. More, harder, faster, more and repeat.
Can you do it? Yes. The episiotomy doesn’t have to be lifelong nettlesome. Do you want to do it? That’s harder to clear yourself for, since if you get good at it, you’re just as good as his ex was, and if not, you’re not as good. Both of which evoke the dreaded ex comparison. But de-escalate a little, relax, keep doing the exercises, realize he married you, not her. And really, no man is going to have sex that doesn’t involve his orgasms. Which is my way of saying the resentment makes sense. The insecurity? Fuggedaboutit. And your sex drive? It’ll be back before you know it. For him? Well, that remains to be seen. But you’re OK. Believe me.
EUGENE, SIR: I want fuck big. — Name withheld by request
Dear Wishful Thinking: Of course you do. Thanks for writing. Or having it written for you. And good luck with all that big fucking.