My breeder boyfriend deserves a special treat. I thought I might rim him. Any helpful hints? This is my first try.
The Rimming Rules: 1. Look before you lick. 2. Shower, shower, shower. 3. Hepatitis vaccines. 4. Don’t rim on the first date. 5. Don’t rim people who refuse to kiss you immediately afterward–if his butt hole is good enough for your mouth, it’s good enough for his. 6. Don’t chew gum. 7. Little licks, darting motions, and slow back and forths take precedence over muscle-straining deep-tongue probing. The point is not to shove your head up his ass tongue first, but to tease the nerve endings as only a tongue can. If he wants to get fucked in the ass, use something else. 8. Bon appetit.
When two men are participating in anal sex, does the one on the receiving end keep his erection? If so, is stimulation of his prostate gland enough to give him orgasmic pleasure, or does he still need his penis worked in order for him to come? Also, is it better for him to go ahead and stroke it, or should that be left to his partner?
1. The fuckee, if sufficiently aroused, usually keeps his erection. If for some reason the fuckee loses his erection, the fucker should politely inquire as to whether the fuckee is still enjoying the fucking. Then, depending on the fuckee’s response, the fucker should withdraw or finish up.
2. While some men do, on occasion, come without any additional stimulation, most need to have their “penis worked” in order to climax during anal sex. The stroking can be provided by either partner, but you may have better luck allowing the fuckee to see to himself. That way, the fucker can concentrate on the fucking, minding the condom, slapping the fuckee’s ass, etc. And if the fuckee strokes, he is better able to gauge his own arousal level, and hopefully bring himself off at the same time the fucker is coming round the bend–if that simultaneous thing is important to you.
3. Use condoms, kiddo.
I am a single 22-year-old black college student. I’ve always been attracted to white females for the simple fact that they have sexy bodies and they know how to treat their men. So I wanted to know what it takes for a hot one to notice me? I can offer a lot, including pussy eating and romantic evenings.
So, tell me what I should do so that I may have the women of my dreams.
–Loves White Women
White women, like other women, can be had two ways: you can rent them or you can ask them out. Either way, just mumble in your best bass baritone, “Hey, baby, you’ve got a sexy body–I bet you know how to treat your men.” White chicks dig that kinda hep talk.
But remember: when impressing a white girl with all you have to offer, make it clear that while the offer includes both “pussy eating and romantic evenings,” it isn’t necessary that she accept them in that order. A lot of women prefer a romantic evening prior to a good pussy eating. Good luck.
“Come” is what I say to my dog. “Cum” is a specifically sexual term. We’ve got few enough words in the English language that, by their associations, are a turn-on, and I think it’s downright rude of you to try to do away with one of them.
Furthermore, one of the primary responsibilities of any writer is to strive for clarity. The invention of the word “cum” was a major step in that direction: no one ever need wonder, when I write “C___ here,” whether the character is calling Rover or choreographing his trick’s climax. You are guilty, in my estimation, of the unforgivable sin of muddying the linguistic waters.
–Spunkily, Scott O’Hara
If by the point “Come here!” appears in one of your stories, your readers can’t tell whether it’s the dog or the dog-collar-wearing trick being so addressed, well then, your storytelling skills need more help than one misspelled word can provide. I’ve read enough of your stuff, however, to know you’re a gifted writer who needn’t rely on misspellings to get your meaning across. We should always, as you point out, strive for clarity. And the cause of clarity is better served in this case by unambiguous context than by fanciful spelling choices. (Scott O’Hara was the publisher and editor of the late, great Steam.)
The other night, after a fulfilling dining experience, I retreated to the men’s room to “do my business.” You know: punch-a-grogan, feed the devil, lay some cable, grow a tail, drop the kids off at the pool. Anyway, after carefully laying the sheer toilet doily on top of the toilet seat, to protect my butt from poo germs, I sat down and began going about my business.
Then a horrifying thing happened: one of the last “kids” into the pool decided to perform a cannonball. This bit of recklessness caused a huge splash of water to shoot up my poopshoot! Oh, the horror! After quickly wiping the aforementioned devil’s water from my anus, a number of troubling thoughts came to mind: could I contract some foul disease from this? Is my ass ruined? Am I growing a colony of sea monkeys in my butt? Please help!
Water didn’t shoot up your butt. Remember this old joke: Why are turds tapered at the end? So your asshole doesn’t slam shut when you take a shit! Your asshole lovingly grips each and every turd as it passes out of your body, maintaining a hygienic safety seal for your protection. In order to splash water up your butt, you’d have to be using a speculum to take shits, which I do not recommend.
So it is unlikely that you’re incubating a colony of sea monkeys in your butt. To avoid this disaster in the future, do what I do when forced to take dumps in alien toilets: in addition to the seat doily, unroll a few hundred yards of toilet paper into the bowl. Your turds will rest on top of the paper until you safely flush them away. If one does break through your Dan Savage Splash Protector, the water should be contained or deflected by the paper barrier.
Not to be insipid, but part of a woman’s creative powers is indeed located between her legs. Kids may be “expensive time-consuming little monsters,” but you can’t make one.
Granted, one needs a “thunderbolt from Zeus” or something.
Yeah, you can make babies, but I’ve never viewed that as particularly creative. Babies happen by accident most of the time; the women involved are “creators” only in the basest, most biological sense. “Excretory” is a much more accurate description of the process. Under the right circumstances, women occasionally excrete a baby or two. In a similar vein, my body “creates” poop after I eat dinner. But since my poops, unlike babies, don’t create poops of their own, no one is willing to call my poops “miracles” of digestion, or get all mushy about the creative powers located between my butt cheeks.
While we’re on the subject: Congratulations, Madonna.
Send questions to Savage Love, Chicago Reader, 11 E. Illinois, Chicago 60611.