The other day, I was talking to one of my lesbian friends about the difference between gay and straight relationships. “Being a straight woman, who may want to get married someday, means I have to entertain the notion of having a nonmonogamous marriage,” I argued.
“Why?” she challenged me. (I get this reaction a lot. Especially from women, gay or straight, who tend to get defensive when I say something to this effect.)
“Not to consider it would mean I’m in denial,” I replied. Keep reading »
“[The first gay bar I went to] was called the Bushes … My first ‘real’ boyfriend took me. I was too young to be in a bar—and too naive to be in a gay bar—but bars didn’t card people then like they do now. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the only 17-year-old boy in that bar that night. It was dark, it was dirty. But it was a public place—the first public place where I ever kissed a guy … I don’t remember much else about the place—but I do remember what I had to drink (a Long Island Iced Tea, I’m embarrassed to say), and I do remember what it felt like to walk into the Bushes for the first time. I had spent all day, every day, for the last six years trying to hide my homosexuality from my family, from my friends, from strangers on the street and on the L. The pressure was so intense that I’m surprised I didn’t crack. To step through that door and feel that pressure lift made me feel lightheaded. It was like stepping through an airlock; I’m surprised my ears didn’t pop. The Bushes was the first place I’d ever been where everyone was gay, where being gay wasn’t something that set you apart.”
—Dan Savage remembers his first time at a gay bar. And look at him now. He has affected so much change in his community. He and his husband, Terry, were the Grand Marshals of the NYC Pride Parade yesterday, which was especially awesome because of the gay marriage law passing about 36 hours before. [Slate] Keep reading »
“Most unusual sexual experience?” I asked my man as I was straddling him in bed one evening. This may sound like a strange line of questioning, but we like to give each other intimate interviews. It is part of our oddly arousing foreplay.
“A squirter,” he answered.
“Really!?’ I asked, as if he were telling me he sees dead people.
“Yeah, every single time we did it, she squirted.” Keep reading »
I have … hold on, let me count … five vibrators. While I don’t flaunt them — i.e., they’re not laying out on my bedside table for guests to ogle — I don’t pretend not to have them. I am an empowered woman! I masturbate! I am the master of my own orgasm! Roar! Or rather, purrrrr…
But I gotta admit, if a dude I liked confessed to using a sex toy, like, say, a Fleshlight, to masturbate, I would be weirded out. It’s hypocritical, no doubt, but I’m not alone. Am I part of a sex toy double standard? Keep reading »
On this week’s episode of the “Savage Love” podcast, a 24-year-old man called in to ask what he should do about his ex who always calls him to talk about her problems, but sometimes his calls or texts will go unanswered for months. He thinks they might get back together, yet it never seems to happen. He’s dating a new woman he really likes, but his ex seems to psychically sense it and has amped up communication. Dan Savage sagely advises the guy to “stop being her emotional tampon.” We’ve all encountered this man before, but until now, I wasn’t aware that there was such a fitting phase for his breed. An “emotional tampon” is a man who will always be there to provide a woman with the proverbial shoulder to cry on and be available for her anytime of the day or night to vent her emotional frustration, problems, and mental instabilities. (Thank you to John DeVore and Urban Dictionary for a more thorough explanation.) Guys, don’t let this bloody fate befall you. After the jump, 10 signs that you may be an emotional tampon. Keep reading »