My boyfriend of 16 months and I have a great relationship. He loves my blowjobs, but he will not kiss me if I have his come in my mouth. It grosses him out. We have talked about this, and he won't even try. I have no problem if he kisses me after going down on me. I just want him to try. Is there something wrong with asking him to taste himself? I do it all the time and love it.
It's funny that your question—with its hint of gay panic—should arrive today. I've been on vacation with the family all week snowboarding in beautiful British Columbia, and what I enjoy most—besides the snowboarding and the half-naked, fully stoned Australian snowboard instructors lolling around in hot tubs at the end of the day—is watching the straight boys who refuse to sit four to a chairlift. They want to ride up alone or ride up two at a time on a four-seater with two empty seats between 'em. They seem to think gayness can be contracted through thigh-to-thigh contact.
Which it can.
Now, MK, there's kissing someone with your come on her breath and then there's kissing someone with your come in her mouth. It sounds like you're interested in the latter, which makes it sound like you're interested in passing some of your boyfriend's load into his mouth—i.e., snowballing—and not simply being rewarded with a kiss, his come on your breath, for a blowjob well-done. And that's an entirely different wad of spunk.
Just because you enjoy tasting yourself on his lips doesn't mean your boyfriend will enjoy or should have to enjoy mouthing his own load. First, there's a significant difference in volume and consistency between your kissing his glazed lips and his eating his own spunk. And then there's this: After a woman comes, MK, she's still in a groove, still capable of more orgasms, still cranked up. After ejaculating, a man is essentially uncranked. He's not capable of another orgasm (not right away, anyway)—he's been knocked out of his groove. So even if the idea of snowballing appeals to a man as you're blowing him, it might not hold the same appeal the moment after he comes.
Some men are afraid of tasting their own come because they believe that doing so, like sitting too close on a chairlift, can turn a guy gay. And it's not an unreasonable fear: not because it will turn a guy gay, but because, judging from my mail, a lot of women are convinced that any man who would taste his own come must secretly be gay. It's possible that your boyfriend is dying to taste himself, MK, but, like the boys on the chairlifts, is afraid of getting a reputation if he goes ahead with this and you blab about it to your friends.
I am at the Meshuggah show at El Corazón as I write this. There are tons of guys I consider hot here, 98 percent of whom, I'm sure, are straight. But I got a vibe off this one guy. This is such a macho environment, though, that there's a considerable amount of danger in asking the question "So, you gay?"
I remember an episode of Law and Order where Jerry Orbach tried to determine if a suspect was in AA by asking a secret question, something like "Are you a friend of Bill W.?" The idea was that the question was innocuous if you weren't in AA.
Since you are the king of "santorum" and "pegging" and "saddlebacking," I thought maybe you could invent a secret question for masculine gay men in masculine environments. Something like, "Hey, do you like to barbecue?" So how 'bout it? Can you declare the official secret are-you-a-masculine-gay-guy question?
Men Are Cute Hot Objects
The best I could come up with on my own, MACHO, was this: "A Little Night Music— original Broadway cast recording or original London cast?" But that line will get your ass kicked in a lot of gay bars—as I know from bitter experience. So let's toss this out to my readers, the folks who came up with the definitions for "santorum," "pegging," and "saddlebacking": Okay, gang, we're looking for an innocuous question that (1) all fags everywhere would know the answer to, but (2) no straight guys anywhere would. My long-suffering interns—their uniforms chafe—await your suggested questions at firstname.lastname@example.org.
I had to refrain from opening this with "Hey, Asshole!" (oops, guess I kind of just did) after reading your advice to Sex Best One On One, the woman who married a man who warned her that he could not be monogamous and who then realized she couldn't share him. While I agree with your assessment of SBOOO's husband—up-front, honest—your assessment of SBOOO is obviously influenced by your need to have a good rant at polyamory-unfriendly marriage counselors, family, friends, and the world at large. SBOOO does not have to apologize for who she is (not as willing to do long-term nonmonogamy as previously thought) to elitist, more-liberated-than-thou jerk-offs (hint: you!) after giving it a good fucking try (12 times!). Pun intended.
Loving Toronto Reader
I am a polyamorist. I am always up-front with my partners about this, especially if I want to get serious with them. So many people seem to say that they are fine with it out of some kind of misguided assumption that they can eventually change my mind. You know, "Polyamory isn't real; it's just a phase!" You know, like being gay.
I just wanted to say thank you for your reply to SBOOO! I couldn't have said it better myself. That was an absolutely fantastic response. Just like you said, counselors (and for that matter, family members) always see the polyamorist as the bad guy, unreasonably refusing to take the simple, easy route of strict monogamy. It was really nice to finally have someone stand up for us. Thank you!
While I'm sure you enjoy positive feedback, saying thank you is cheap. A lot of times you plug various charities and causes in your column—is there any group you'd like me to donate to as a more concrete symbol of my appreciation?
Some folks think I was too hard on SBOOO, some think I was just hard enough. Like I said in my original response, I intentionally came down hard on SBOOO to compensate for the vast and overwhelming majority of advice professionals who would, per LF, side aggressively with her because a nonmonogamous partner—even an honest one like SBOOO's mate—is always perceived as the bad guy.
For the record: I am not biased toward nonmonogamy. But I do think monogamous people should be with each other and refrain from marrying folks who are self-aware enough to inform them in advance that they don't think they're capable of being monogamous.
Some folks who wrote in about my advice for SBOOO raised a good point: I should have come down on the husband as well. If nonmonogamy was a deal breaker for him, then he was a fool to marry SBOOO before verifying her ability to be nonmonogamous. Agreed. So, for the record: SBOOO's husband? You're an idiot, too.
Finally, LF, I'm always happy to see money go to Planned Parenthood.