This week's letter of greatest interest, a well-composed rant against my supposed blind devotion to Western medicine, ignorance of same, and lack of understanding of the holistic approach to complaints such as hyposexual desire disorder, is really, really long. Here is one of the good parts:
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Dear Andrea: As long as I can remember, I've had a fascination with gyno play and playing doctor. I've grown more and more interested in the idea of cervical dilation/cervical insertions, but have been unable to find any literature on the subject. I understand that any cervical penetration has the possibility of causing cramps and/or other pain, but I am anxious and willing to experiment with this aspect of such play. Any advice?
Nah, I'm not really going to saddle you with a "clips" column — that would be cheesy. But I do happen to have a bunch of interestingish non-question stuff from my inbox, so bear with me.
First up, an article from The New York Times called "The Perils Of Sexual Roundelays," which is kind of refreshing because, despite the title, it actually pokes some holes in the "ZOMG hooking up and friends with benefits will be the death of love and marriage as we know it" cultural panic usually expressed in articles called "the perils of sexual" whatever. Sort of. The article (www.nytimes.com/2010/05/09/fashion/09Studied.html) describes what may be the first major study of non-monogamous behavior among adults). The study sets out to examine whether what the researchers call "non-serious relationships," (a.k.a. "hooking up") lead to "concurrent partnerships" (hooking up with lots of people, a.k.a. being a big old' slut").
My girlfriend asked me to demonstrate my most unorthodox masturbation techniques, and one of my inventions is the Fly on the Island. Catch a small, lively fly. Carefully remove the wings and put it into a pill bottle. Draw a hot bath and get in.
I was watching a Buffy rerun recently when the trailer for the new movie Splice came on, and I startled myself yelling "No, no, not again!" at the TV. Some misfire-prone synapse or other in my brain had leapt to the conclusion that Splice was another "sew three or more people together" movie. Splice turns out to be just another cautionary tale about not mucking about about with DNA. It' s Human Centipede I'm trying (and failing) to avoid.
If each era gets the horror it deserves, perhaps we have moved on from fear of the monstrosities that lurk, unseen and unsuspected inside us, to fear of the blurring of edges between ourselves everyone else. Human Centipede is a horror movie for the Facebook age.
My male friend ( I'm a woman) and I have been together on and off for a little over a year. The problem is, it takes him a very long time to ejaculate. He is really turned on but it still takes a long time. Is it me or him?
How is it humanly possible that I, a 42 year old man, talented, accomplished, tall, and fit, cannot get laid to save his life? I have gone out on literally hundreds of dates, but nothing ever seems to go my way. I try not to act desperate, but women seem to smell it on me or something.
I have memories from early childhood onward of masturbating. (I'm a woman.) I'm talking when I was four years old or possibly even younger. I remember doing it in public too, like in front of family members.
I'm 46 and seeking a hetro/bi woman my age who is authentically interested in a sexual relationship. I've heard many middle-aged women openly proclaim that they "don't care about sex." Since then, I've heard similar from many sources, including several female friends and countless craigslist meet-ups where it was volunteered without any prompting. I find this terribly depressing.
This summer different members of my family will be going in together on big a beach house. There's just one thing. "Heather" used to be married to my cousin, but after they split up, my cousin moved and Heather is still invited. She also is younger. The problem? I think she's hot.