It’s all a “game” but it feels like a risky one.
How to Do It is Slate’s sex advice column. Have a question? Send it to Jessica and Rich here. It’s anonymous!
Dear How to Do It,
My boyfriend of eight months just shared his biggest kink with me. It’s something he’s really into but felt ashamed to share. He’s not putting any pressure on me to try it but I am trying to think about ways to engage with it because it gets me hot but also scares me. He’s really into fertility play, especially in a forbidden way—holes in condoms, getting me pregnant to “keep” me, etc. After telling me, he repeated multiple times that he only enjoys playing at this, but would never want to take choices away from someone in real life.
I’m glad he told me and I want to be game to try it, but it sounds both really hot and really scary to me. I have the implant and from the start, even when we were just hooking up and not dating he’s always been respectful and careful around contraception. He’s never pushed any of these fantasies into our sex life and he’s always been really good with consent. How do I dip my toes in this? We’ve done light/moderate kink before, including consensual nonconsent so l know he can be trusted in a scene. I can’t figure out how to address my fear here and get to the other ways I feel about it.
—Unsure
Dear Unsure,
I’m working off the assumption that you do not want to become pregnant at this point in your life. And as long as you have the implant and keep it up to date, becoming pregnant is extremely unlikely (it’s more than 99 percent effective).
It’ll be useful to spend some time defining what exactly your fears are. What are your concerns? What makes you feel weird about the kink? Make a list, and then decide which of the things on that list you want to share with your partner. It’s also worth spending some time feeling out fantasies around the aspects you find hot. Make a list of those, too.
Then sit down and talk about it together. Share what turns you on about your partner’s kink, and what scares you. Listen to what turns him on about his kink. Look for areas where your desires overlap, and for areas that turn him on but where you’ve got a squick. Once you’ve established your boundaries and shared interest zones, get creative about what you can do in that space. I imagine one big thing the two of you can do is roleplay. If you’ve both been screened for STIs, and you maintain your implant, he can poke all the holes he wants in your condoms. You can also talk to each other during sex about how you want him to ejaculate deep inside of you and fill you with his semen.
If you can’t find much overlap, or your partner becomes less flexible than he has been so far, that might be a sign that the two of you aren’t a match at this stage in your lives.
How to Get Advice From How to Do It
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Dear How to Do It,
How does one stop seeking sexual validation from men? I, a straight, late 20s woman, feel like I should’ve figured this out by now, but apparently I have not! I’ve been in a relationship for years and I still find myself subconsciously wondering and hoping men I encounter on a night out, for example, or even his friend group will find me attractive/would want to sleep with me. Why do I care?! It’s not like I will actually be sleeping with any of them, and frankly, I don’t want to care, but I still seem to have the lingering thought and desire. It’s the sort of desire that fueled dating but somehow never went away even once I entered a relationship. Is there a way to erase this from myself? Is this a common experience or am I just particularly weird about attraction? Is it insecurity? It’s like that Margaret Atwood quote, “You are a woman with a man inside a woman.” How do I get rid of that voice inside me?
—No Thank You
Dear No Thank You,
I think it’s a pretty common experience for all sexual people, regardless of gender, to wonder whether others are interested in them—even when in a committed relationship. If this wondering weren’t bothering you, it wouldn’t be a problem. But it is troubling you.
Mindfulness and meditation tend to work best for most people dealing with all kinds of unwanted thoughts. When the question of whether your partner’s friend might want to sleep with you comes up, turn your attention toward something else right in that very moment. Try focusing on your breath, heartbeat, the feeling of gravity under you, or the subject of conversation. Choose whatever works for you, but the point is to find something to think about instead of the thoughts you want to avoid.
I’d argue that at this point in the arc of feminism, many of us have both a man dwelling inside of us as well as a second-wave feminist. One might be holding us to old-fashioned patriarchal standards, while the other is holding us to a certain kind of feminist ideal. When you have time by yourself, you might lean into those voices and ask what they’re trying to communicate—and then decide whether what they’re saying is aligned with your values. You’ve got this.
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Dear How to Do It,
My husband and I are in a long drought period. We had a very regular and enjoyable sex life prior to some life complications. The first was that my husband experienced significant general anxiety triggered by a medical incident (and the anxiety led to performance issues) right at the time we were trying for a baby. We did conceive despite this, but I had a difficult pregnancy and we had a baby with some health issues that persisted through the first couple of years of his life. We didn’t have sex at all from the time our son was conceived until he was 2.5 (he is now 4) and have only had sex a couple of times since then. Both of us would like to resume a more active sex life but can’t quite seem to break the ice and get over the initial awkwardness. Our relationship is otherwise good, we enjoy spending time together, and co-parent well, etc. Do you have any tips for us?
—Desperate for Some Rain
Dear Desperate for Some Rain,
Start with flirting. Comment positively on the things you find appealing about each other. Kiss for the sake of kissing. Hold hands, and engage in other forms of physical contact that may seem platonic. Verbalize your desire for each other. This doesn’t have to be poetic or brilliant. It can be as simple as, “I’d like to kiss your neck,” or “I want to see you experiencing pleasure.”
At least one of my suggestions will feel awkward—it’s OK to feel awkward. Think back on your first sexual experiences, and your first sexual experiences with each other. Odds are, there was some amount of awkwardness. You’re finding each other again after a pretty significant amount of time without sexual interaction. Awkward is fine. Taking your time is fine.
Remember that you love and respect each other, and want to connect in this way. Keep connection as your goal, rather than orgasm or penetration. You’ll find your footing.
Dear How to Do It,
I am a 44-year-old cis woman married to a cis man for 14 years. We have two kids—ages 12 and 10 and for the last decade or so our sex life has been OK, but I have been tired from raising kids. I haven’t cared too much about sex. Six months ago, I decided to go off of the pill because I had been on it for 20 years and I just didn’t feel like myself anymore. The first few months off of the pill were normal re-adjustments to not having hormones suppressed, but there was also one unexpected side effect that started happening about one month ago: I want to have sex all the time. Literally all the time! It’s becoming distracting to the point where I need to go masturbate a few times per day just to get it off my mind and so I can get my job done. Every time I see a guy on the street, I am looking to ponder whether I’d want his dick. What is happening? Is this a normal reaction to going off the pill? I realize this sounds like a great problem to have, but I went from caring about sex about 5 percent of the time to 1,000 percent needing it multiple times a day. Help!
—Distracted!
Dear Distracted,
First, I’d like to validate that starting or ending hormonal birth control can be a wild ride. And, often, women report changes in libido—usually a decrease while on hormones and an increase once they come off of it. Keep in mind that your body can continue to change for a while after stopping the pill—some experts say it can take up to six months for your body to level out.
One tactic is to increase the quality of the sex you’re having at appropriate times. The more fully-sated one feels, and expects to feel later, the easier it is to delay gratification during the work day. If you haven’t spoken to your partner about this yet, have that conversation. Propose the things you want to try. Ask to be made love to so thoroughly that you’re an exhausted puddle. If he isn’t up for that, or if he isn’t always up for that, masturbation, like you’ve already been doing, can help. However, you’ll probably be better off with the four-course meal version as opposed to the quick snack version I’m guessing you’re engaging in during the day. Take time with yourself. Wind yourself up—tease yourself, fantasize, read erotica, or watch porn, and generally stoke that fire a bit. Invest in some toys. Get yourself to the point where you’re an exhausted puddle.
Another tactic is to practice meditation and then use that skill to direct your attention away from your desire for sex when it occurs at inopportune times. Mostly, though, I’m pretty sure you’ll get used to the increase in volume and number of sexual desire impulses inside yourself.
—Jessica Stoya
More Advice From Slate
My husband and I married young and have been together for 15 years. We have two small children together. I’ve never been intimate with another man. (He had one partner before me.) The sex has always been … fine. He is very into performing oral—although I think his enthusiasm outstrips his skill—but I prefer penetration or manual stimulation to get off.
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