August 15, 2007
I am a single guy… never good with women… not many girlfriends… I didn't have sex till I was 31… but all my life I've had this strange fetish… I love to be shampooed with lots of lather and suds, suds in my eyes, nose, and mouth. I have been trying to find a female partner to shampoo me… I am a big, hairy guy and I've been told I'm scary-looking… I offered hair salons money just to shampoo me… not one would… can you direct me to a place where I can get my fetish… I hope you can help me… why am I bad with women… maybe I'm gay….
Help Me Out
I'm a 25-year-old male who has no ability to talk to women. I am attracted to women and beat it looking at porn of women, but I have only had sex once and I was so drunk that I don't know if I lost my virginity or not. I think about hiring an escort, but I would hate myself even more if I did that. Lately, I have been thinking I might be gay and that's why I am so inept with women. Is this how it happens?
Loser Might Be Gay
Hello, straight boys? Did you learn anything from Will & Grace? Did we suffer through eight years of that shit for nothing? Gay men and straight women get along like gang-fucking-busters, as everyone on earth and her gay best friend should know by now. And yet I'm constantly getting e-mail from inept straight guys who've convinced themselves that homosexuality is some sort of fallback sexual orientation for guys with no social skills.
HMO and LMBG: If being an inept heterosexual made a man gay, then gay men would not compose a measly 3 percent of the population. We would rule the fucking world—and underpopulation, not global warming, would be the biggest threat to the survival of our species. Women would have to be inseminated with semen collected from spittoons set out in Broadway theaters, major-league-baseball stadiums, congressional-page dormitories, Vatican City, and other places gay men are known to congregate.
You're not fags, HMO and LMBG, you're socially maladapted straight boys. In other words, completely normal. Please make a note of it. Then ask your friends, if you've got any, what you're doing wrong, and tell them to be brutal. Take their feedback to heart and work on your social skills, personal hygiene, appearance—whatever they tell you the problem is. And if all else fails, get obscenely wealthy. Gina Gershon and Monica Seles did not date software billionaire Paul Allen for the scintillating conversation about his collection of Doctor Who memorabilia.
And HMO? There are two kinds of women who will indulge your shampoo fetish: an indulgent woman who loves you and wants to make you happy, or an indulgent sex worker who loves your money and wants to make you happy enough to part with it. If you're not having any luck landing the former, go find a sympathetic, understanding latter. But for God's sake, stop lurking in hair salons, HMO, because that will make you gay.
I am a 23-year-old student who just got dumped by my girlfriend after a year together. We argued forever about why it ended, but the issue that really stood out was this: I love feet! I like to think I'm a regular guy like everyone else, but when it comes to sex, nothing drives me wilder than feet. Not like those porns out there that do the weirdest shit with them—no, I'm just turned on by beautiful women wearing sandals. I can't help it! My ex has beautiful feet, and every time we were together, my main priority was getting her toes in my mouth, licking her soles, and kissing her ankles. Is that wrong? Can this really be a justifiable reason to end a relationship that lasted a year?
Her Left Foot Lover
So it sounds like she was plenty GGG—willing to wear the sandals, willing to let you suck her toes, lick her soles, kiss her ankles. Good, giving, game. But your letter left me wondering what she enjoyed. What turned her on? How did you indulge her? When were you GGG? That's missing from your letter, HLFL; I'm thinking it's because it was missing in your relationship.
If you neglected her needs while she indulged your fetish, then the feeling of your tongue on her toes eventually ceased to be a delightful, or delightfully kinky, sensation. Damp toes became a reminder that she—a good, giving, and game girlfriend—was sadly stuck with a thoughtless foot fetishist for a boyfriend, a man so fixated on his own precious sexual priorities that he completely neglected her desires. And that's a completely justifiable reason to end a relationship.
I'm a 24-year-old male, not too kinky, not too vanilla. When I was 18, I was dating a 16-year-old girl, and we had a lot of good sex. In fact, we took pictures. Now I'm planning to become a schoolteacher. Should I get rid of these pics, or keep them as a memento of some of the best sex I've ever had?
Stumped About My Sex
Teenagers have been prosecuted for possessing pornographic pictures of themselves, SAMS, the ridiculous fruits of our current hysteria over young people and technology. A schoolteacher with dirty pics of a 16-year-old—even old pics of a girlfriend—is taking a huge risk. Lose track of a CD you burned, forget that they're on a computer that you get serviced, and your career will be over before you have a chance to explain. If you can't bear to get rid of them, you should make some easy-to-keep-track-of prints and lock 'em up.
The first time I had sex, I didn't use a condom. I was drunk. Not unusual for me. After the event, my upper thighs were covered with what appeared to be zits. They also appeared on my sack a little. It scared the hell out of me, but I'm young and am afraid of going to the doctor. The thigh zits went away quickly with no lasting signs, but the sack ones have stuck around. What the hell is this, and do I need to be afraid?
Help An Innocent Fool
Sounds like it could be molluscum—a viral infection that can be transmitted sexually and sometimes causes raised, zitlike bumps on thighs and butts and sacks—but you know what, HAIF? I can't inspect your sack via e-mail. Even if I could—and I'm not saying I would if I could—I wouldn't be able to treat your molluscum, because I'm not a doctor. So you're still going to have to march your pansy ass off to a doctor, young man, and get an STI screening. (To find a Planned Parenthood office near you, go to plannedparenthood.com.) And you might want to do it soon, HAIF, as molluscum can spread to your arms, legs, face, eyelids, lips, mouth, and, uh, kangaroos, if you have any of those around.
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