Q. Please disregard my previous e-mail. As of the New Year, my girlfriend is no longer a virgin. —No Longer Dating Virgin Girl
A. Uh, gee. Sorry about that, NLDVG. I’m not sorry that your girlfriend is no longer a virgin, of course, as virginity is a scourge that I’ve dedicated my life to stamping out. I’m sorry that I was unable to assist you. I could fob you off, I suppose, with that dodge favored by professional advice columnists everywhere: “The volume of the mail I receive prevents me from answering every letter I receive, blah, blah, blah.” While it’s true that I receive more letters than I could ever possibly respond to (if your question doesn’t appear in the column within three weeks, people, you’re on your own), that wasn’t the case with your letter.
Fact is, NLDVG, I didn’t answer your question because I was stumped. I didn’t know what the hell to tell you about the particular issues you raised in your original letter. When you write an advice column, gentle readers, it looks like you have all the answers because you only run questions for which you have answers. This is as it should and must be; we advice professionals need people to think we have all the answers so that they’ll keep sending us their questions. But this scam has a cruel and unintended consequence: When we don’t respond to a question, the reader who sent it thinks, “He/she doesn’t care,” or “He/she is too busy,” or “He/she thought my question wasn’t interesting”—when the reality may be that he/she has no fucking clue. And here, to mark the New Year, are a few other letters that I haven’t answered for want of a clue:
Q. I’m a guy into she-male porn, and I’ve noticed that almost all the models in said porn have very tight scrotums—like they’re cold. So I’m wondering, what’s the deal? Is it just the hormones? Or do they employ some kind of preshoot scrotal-tightening technique? A bit of both, perhaps? —Never Understood Tranny Scrotums
There’s this new pastor at the church I visit. She’s gorgeous, an athlete, and can read ancient Greek. I’ve managed to get her to lunch twice, despite her schedule, and spelled out my interest explicitly. She seemed receptive, posited that dating someone in her new congregation could possibly cause issues, but may go hiking with me this weekend. So what’s the protocol for dating a smokin’-hot priestess? —Not Very Good Xian
I am a gay man who has been in a relationship with my partner for nine years. My lover has always planned on undergoing a sex change, from male to female. There were money and health problems, but he’s ready now. I’ve always told him that I love him, no matter what. Now he’s gotten his breast implants and I have to admit I am completely weirded out by them. I feel like a hypocrite, but I don’t know what to do! I’ve never been with a woman, and I don’t want to be with one now. I also love my partner. Any advice? I feel like a jerk! Support him for nine years and then peace out because of boobs? —Hating Myself And His Breasts
I’m 23, straight, and female. I have a fairly ravenous sexual appetite, and particularly enjoy administering oral sex to my lucky lovers. Unfortunately, I’ve happened upon (what seems to be) a unique dilemma. An hour or so after swallowing particular loads, I get intense stomachaches, quickly transitioning into intense diarrhea. This only occurs with maybe one in five men, and seems to be particular to the individual (i.e., if a man’s loads give me the shits, they always give me the shits; if a man’s loads don’t give me the shits, they never give me the shits). This has never really been too much of a problem for me in the past— I just didn’t call guys back when it occurred—but I have started dating a one-in-fiver who is witty, great in the sack, and gorgeous, and I want to keep seeing him. So I have a few questions for you: (1) Does this happen to anyone else? (2) Is it me or is there something wrong with some guys’ semen? (3) Is there any remedy besides spitting? —Blowing Judiciously
My wife and I enjoy a vigorous BDSM lifestyle and take part in some pretty heavy activities. One we haven’t tried but are anxious to is Tabasco sauce on mucous membranes, e.g., nostrils, clit, and anal tissues. Our question: What would we use to cool the burn should the application of Tabasco sauce to her anus or clit prove to be too much for her to endure? —Master & Servant
I’m a gay man living in San Francisco. There are a couple of guys I’m into. Like an actual couple. I’ve messed around with each of them separately, and in both cases I was told to keep it hush-hush because the other didn’t know that he was being messed around on. My problem is not about their dishonesty or any of that bullshit. It’s none of my business. What I really want to know is this: How can I get them both in the sack at the same time? —Trying to Double Down
I’m a 19-year-old lesbian with the dyke equivalent of the “Does size matter?” problem: I have a really short tongue. Is there anything I can do? Or does “size” really not matter? —Tongue-Tied Teen
Four years ago, my girlfriend and I made a sex tape. After we broke up, I continued to watch the video, finding myself more turned on by the action now that she was out of my life. I started taking pictures with my digital camera off the television, and before long I was putting these images of her on the Internet for others to comment on. The tape is graphic, with clear shots of her face as she goes down on me, masturbates, and rides me. I feel terrible—she’s a sweet girl and it wasn’t a bad breakup—but exposing her has become an uncontrollable turn-on for me. I can’t bring myself to throw out the tape, which, I feel, is the only way I can control this urge. I sound like an awful person, but I can’t seem to help myself. Your thoughts? —Slave To Own Penis
A. Ah, sometimes the answer is so obvious—take STOP’s question here. There is only one possible response: “Throw the tape out, you fucking piece of lowlife shit.” The damage is already done—those clips and images will live online forever, and one day STOP’s ex or her fiancé or her kids or her grandchildren will find them. And then, if there’s any justice, they’ll find STOP and cut his balls off. But what of the other letters in this column? I’m stumped. Tabasco sauce on the clit? Not into the boyfriend’s new rack? Is there hope for short-tongued dykes? What’s up with she-male sacks? And how do you successfully date a Christian minister who has—let’s face facts—already given your ass the brush-off? I don’t have answers for these folks. If you do, gentle readers, send ’em in and we’ll run the mother of all Savage Love Web extras sometime in the next couple of weeks.
Download Savage Lovecast (my weekly podcast) every Tuesday at thestranger.com/savage.