by Laurelin

“Please go with me,” my friend Leanne asked. “I really need this job but I can’t go alone.” I was doubtful. I didn’t want to work at that strip club in Providence, she did. But I guess it wouldn’t kill me to tag along. “Just waitressing,” she had said, and I agreed. There was a group of about ten girls and the club manager gave us all a tour of the floor, the back rooms, and backstage. It was a lot bigger than it looked outside, dimly lit with flashing lights, perfect cooshy chairs lined a perfectly strobe lit stage, and a DJ announced each girl as they started to dance, looking more beautiful than anyone I had ever seen. When it came time to fill out an application I shook my head, but the manager touched my elbow and gave such an encouraging smile that I thought, “well, maybe.”

She called exactly a week later, saying I had a job. My friend didn’t get a call, and even though I felt terrible I also got a bit of a rush. This was so… dangerous. Not my style. I was still in college, in a sorority who’s motto was “Be womanly always.” This was womanly, I guess. Naked womanly. I was all in. The manager met me at the front door and walked me in, showing me to my dressing room and handing me my waitressing uniform. It was the most wonderful thing I had ever seen — black lace up knee high pleather boots with lace up matching pleather booty shorts and a black and red striped lace up corset. It all fit like a glove. I looked at myself in the mirror with what seemed like millions of movie star dressing room light bulbs making me glow. All I could hear was the pounding of my heart and I stepped out of the room and into the dark.

I don’t remember when I went from nervous to confident, from being the new girl to being the girl who commanded the room. Days turned to weeks and weeks to months, and a few shifts a week turned full time. I was still in college and making more money than I knew what to do with. I knew every man that set foot into that club, and I knew their stories and what they drank and what they wanted to talk about, especially what they wanted to hear. These men were lonely, whether it be a wife or girlfriend who had settled into routine too quickly, or if there was no one really in the picture at all, no friends, family, just us, just me, a regular girl transformed by a life of strobe lights and glitter.

Soon I wasn’t just waitressing. There were backrub girls too, and when I saw how much money they were making, after one year I was ready to make the switch. Looking back now I still can’t believe it. Armed with scented baby oil gel I ruined these guys, sending them home slimy and smelling of lavender. One year of work turned to two, and then to three. Back rubs and waitressing were now supplemented with foxy boxing and hot oil and whipped cream wrestling on Friday and Saturday nights. The money rolled in, and every single shift I was smiling. I walked out on the stage to my fake name and I worked the room. I wanted to be there. I loved this act, this secret person, this girl who knew just what to say to walk off making a man feel like a million bucks while really, he was just giving it to me.

I remember the night things started to change. My boyfriend had come to visit, and instead of me being able to visit with him like usual I was busy in the champagne room. I had been in there with a customer for over two hours, and I was drunk. The dancers hated when the guys took me in — I didn’t dance or take off my clothes — I was never am entertainer. This night though, my boyfriend had brought someone for me to meet. “Laurelin, out of the champagne room, you have a guest on the floor!” the DJ announced and I squealed, grabbing the bottle of Moet Nectar and running to see who it was. There was my boyfriend and a man, standing at the stage waiting for me. I stumbled walking up to meet them; champagne and I didn’t always agree on walking in a straight line.

“Laur,” my boyfriend said, grabbing my hand, “meet my Father.”

I stood there, trembling, my confidence and buzz falling into my stomach. I was suddenly aware of how I looked — white high heels, naughty nurse uniform with my ass and frilly red shorts hanging out, too much makeup and a fake orange tan. My fake eyelashes suddenly felt too heavy and I saw myself as this man did, a used up drunk girl who couldn’t even stay and talk because I had to go back into a room and spend time with a man who was old enough to be my father. I couldn’t even shake his hand, one was full of champagne and the other clutched a diamond necklace that man had bought me.

What was going on? I left my boyfriend and his Dad at the stage with a handful of ones, and when I was finished with that work shift I scrubbed my face until it was red. I wanted to see my freckles again. I tugged and combed out my hair until all the curls were gone. The dressing room was exactly the same, with all those shining movie star light bulbs and I really saw myself. Too tan, too thin, the line between me and the girl I created at my club so blurred that I wasn’t sure who was who anymore.

I went home that night with my boyfriend and his Dad, and I know that his Dad still has the t-shirt I gave him from my club. He loved it, loved me and everything about that night, but I was horrified. I went in the next night, done up like always, and I put in my two weeks. The manager looked at me like I was crazy. “You’re our best girl!” he said. “I know,” I said. “But I need to get out of here. It’s time.” He gave me a hug, and those last two weeks were the saddest and happiest of my life. I said my goodbyes and on my last night we had a fantastic party. It’s been seven years since then, and when I walk into that club I still know everyone. The men, the drinks, the stories. It’s impossibly sad, but part of it will always be home. As I drove home to my boyfriend’s house on my last night at the club I turned the radio on, my eyes filling with tears. This was really the end of an era. What now? Where did I go from here?

“Boston” by Augustana was playing on the car radio, a song I had never heard: “I think I’ll go to Boston, I think that I’m just tired, I think I need a new town to leave this all behind, I think I need a sunrise, I’m tired of the sunset…”

“Boston,” I thought. “That sounds nice.”

[..]

by Darrah de jour

Republicans Meet Muslims Halfway, In Bed

If you remember, in my last column, I reported on the New Jersey Republican state senate candidate who relegated his Twitter account to a Joyce Brothers-style dating advice forum. He targeted us rambunctious women by advising us via tweet that if we want to keep our man, we should be “faithful, a lady in the living room and a whore in the bedroom.”

I don’t know about you, but I don’t need a 40-something real estate dude chiming in on what I do between the sheets. Or in the back seat. Not to mention, the idea of putting my own needs aside, in an act that is supposed to be about both partners’ satisfaction and connection (or simply for two or more hot and sticky bodies to reach nirvana via some nerve bundles) to serve the man solely. Seems like, how do you say it? Bullshit.

Unless your job is to get paid for sex – you probably want to enjoy it. And since when did a ring on your finger or a nice bouquet of flowers equal whoredom?

Scarier Than Who Killed Amanda Palmer

Malaysia recently made international headlines for starting a “club” not unlike your grandmother’s knitting circle. Only, The Obedient Wives Club teaches Muslim women to reinforce their role at home. National director Fauziah Ariffin stresses that “in Islam there are four things that wives must do to enter Heaven: to pray, to fast during Ramadan, to protect their chastity, and to be obedient wives – and it is often the fourth aspect that modern wives neglect.”

She goes on, “Husbands should treat their wives like first-class prostitutes.”

Huh? Wait, I’m sensing a common thread here. Basically, over in America, GOP national candidate Mitsch tells us we should be a whore in the bedroom to win our man’s fidelity. And clear ’cross town in Southeast Asia, women are taught, via this version of Islam, that they should – be a whore in the bedroom to win their man’s fidelity.

Ariffin continues, “Our wives provide men with top-level service. However, ordinary prostitutes can only provide good sex, but not love and affection which only a wife can provide.

“Hence, as wives, we must treat our husbands better. It’s not just in bed, but everything that a wife can offer. Optimise [sic] your role. If we provide our husbands more than a prostitute can give, then our husbands will not go out looking for it.”

OK, gotcha. So, not just any prosy* will do. It should be a top-level one. Because let’s not leave out classism. Escort party-people. The kind you and I would be. Not that other kind that the poor are.

Fauziah reasoned that obedient wives will not cause husbands to take their partner for granted, but in fact, it will make them better husbands.

“When a husband comes home and receives good treatment from the wife, they become better and more loving husbands. Why would they treat their spouse badly if they are treated well?” she said.

I would ask Iranian president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad that one.

Even scarier, OWC has launched in Singapore, Indonesia, Australia, Egypt, Syria, Jordan, Britain and France.

This didactic schooling of women, which is pervasive and dates back to whenever it was that witches were broiled and our new patron saint was supposedly a virgin, begs many questions. First off, I can’t help but wonder, why are women told to think sex is bad but harassed to ‘give it up’? Wouldn’t it be smarter to convince us that sex is wonderful, and then prove it patiently and methodically? And, if men are indeed so horny all the time, then why are we whores if we give them what they need in order for them not to ‘get it’ from somebody else?

Perhaps, it has something to do with his voracious sexuality spinning him into a state of utter nonsensical frenzy. This unique, untamed erotic animal roaring to be freed. Into as many different women’s anatomies as possible.

If so, then why are we spending so much time trying to tame women – who apparently have less sex drive than men do? And if sex is dirty, then women are closer to God by virtue of our virtue, so why are we not being worshipped like men are?

Crazy times. Roll with it, dude.

Oh! Ariffin also hypothesizes that, by wives following the above guidelines, rape and incest rates will lower – proving a total lack of understanding around why rape and incest actually occur: control, fear, cycles of violence. And societal breeding. A breeding of entitlement made worse by factions like this encouraging women should neglect their own needs and “service” their mates. (P.S.: A lot of men are visiting sex workers to be led around on a leash and done in the backside with a dildo. Let’s be clear – men often visit prostitutes to live out fantasies they can’t explore at home. I’m not saying wives should don a catsuit, but when we lower stigmas around sexuality in society, perhaps we will also lower rates of cheating. And the less we proselytize to women for exploring their inner sexual voice – maybe, just maybe – fewer women will use sex work as a means to discovering it.)

Sicker Than Secretary, But Not In That Yummy Conscious Way

In case you were itching to know… the men in Malaysia are encouraged to join the male version of the Obedient Wives Club. The Polyamory Club. Founded by Global Ikhwan Sdn Bhd – a multi-national conglomerate – the controversial Polygamy Club, which opened in 2009, persuades husbands to take more than one wife to satisfy their masculine desires.

Hold the phone. Women are encouraged to be obedient and servile to keep their man and men are encouraged to hunt for more wives? Yup. Roll with it. You’re just along for the ride. Right?

Or maybe…

Girl Zone Loan

Women, let’s stop being so fucking judgmental of one another. If we continue to allow men like this to dictate our morality, we will shrink our ovaries, lose our clitorises, have feet like lotus flowers and hang out in the kitchen more than the board room. We’ll walk around topless and ogled, yet handcuffed to chastity.

I say – say it loud. Say it proud. I like sex and I’m a woman. I won’t be put on mute. I won’t be turned into a meek sexless coward by a Fascist moral dictatorship. I am an erotic Goddess. Now, hubby, please rub my feet. I had a long day at work. And there are more of me than you in the workplace right now. And I make up 51% of the nation. And I’ve served you long enough.

*Prosy is slang for prostitute and was directly lifted from Secret Diary of a Call Girl with Billie Piper. Go rent it.

[..]

Got Problems? Sex, Love and Relationship Advice From SuicideGirls’ Team Agony

by SG’s Team Agony feat. Perdita

Let us answer life’s questions – because great advice is even better when it comes from SuicideGirls.

Q. Hi, and first of all, thanks for bringing so much sunlight into my life! I forget how long I’ve followed your site, but it’s been constantly reassuring to know that not everyone is hung up on the (double) standards we’re surrounded by every day.

I’m torn. What should I do? Endure the misery until we’re better off and can be natural again? Or cut my losses and go back to being single, leaving her bitter and disappointed once again? Or even something else, like separate to let the air clear and then try again? (A lot of “agains” there.) Any advice or perspective would be most appreciated.

A: It sounds like there is a lot going on here and you seem to have a very clear understanding of the situation, however you need to make a decision. I do think you both need an outside and neutral mediator to help because it sounds like you want to make this work and you care enough to stick around, but you guys are constantly butting heads at this point. If you are able to seek professional help for this, I would highly recommend it, if more for your wife than yourself. A single suicide attempt is more than enough of an indication that someone is dealing with more than they can handle, and she is also clearly carrying baggage from her past relationship. If you’re worried about the cost, many states have options for people seeking help with mental health issues that do not have insurance or the means to pay full price, so I would seek those out to see if you qualify.

You guys are also in financial straights right now in the middle of one of worst economies in 100 years. Believe me when I say that working a job you’re burned out on is no fun, but neither is being homeless, or up to your eyeballs in debt. You also have the needs of a little boy to consider, and sometimes you have to take the job you don’t love because it provides what you need. You both need to suck it up to an extent, and, if you have access to better jobs, now is the time to get them. I understand that it can be frustrating and unfulfilling to work at a job you hate, but this relationship would benefit from structure and stability. As for your finances, you need to sit down, take a look at all the debt you have and figure out how to manage it, make a budget and stick to it. Once you get a handle on your finances and get into a regular routine, there’s no reason why you can’t pursue your interests (together and separately) as hobbies, at least in the meantime.

Ultimately every relationship takes work, and while this relationship may take more work, it sounds like something you are willing to do. So get some professional help, start discussing your issues on a regular basis and concentrate on improving your financial situation, that way you’ll be moving in the right direction for a healthier, happier relationship.

Perdita

Got Problems? Let SuicideGirls’ team of Agony Aunts provide solutions. Email questions to: gotproblems@suicidegirls.com

by Yashar Ali

My friend Karen (all names changed to protect privacy) was confused and frustrated when she called me on a Friday night.

About a year ago, she met a guy, Michael, through work. They met a few times for drinks with colleagues and then one night, she met him for dinner, which ended with the two of them “hooking up” (whatever that means).

She liked Michael a lot, and wanted to see him again.

After they had dinner, a week went by when Karen got a text message from Michael, “What’s up? How are you?”

She was happy; he wanted to hang out again.

Now, Karen wishes that was the last time she ever heard from him.

As she explained the manner in which she and Michael were communicating, I realized Karen was dealing with a situation several other women very recently talked to me about.

Since their last night together, Michael kept in touch with Karen on a regular basis. Every couple of weeks, Karen received a text or email from him. The messages always started out the same way, “What’s up?”

Karen would always respond.

“How are you?”

“Good, what’s up with you?”

Karen would proceed to fill him in on her life and Michael would always respond with the same short answer, “That’s cool.”

After one or two text messages, Michael would usually disappear. But a couple of weeks later, he would show up again. Sometimes their conversations would go deeper — ten minutes of texting back and forth. Karen would find hope in those longer texting sessions, thinking that he was finally engaging with her.

Michael would sometimes get more creative, giving Karen the impression he cared about her and her life.

“What’s up? How was your holiday weekend?”

“What’s up? Saw your Facebook post, so funny.”

A couple times he even texted, “We should have dinner soon.”

But every time Karen agreed to dinner, Michael would tell her about his really busy month at work, delaying the need to schedule a real date. Then, he would never follow up.

This faux-relationship wasn’t going anywhere and Karen was left feeling confused and frustrated about Michael’s intentions.

But these sporadic texts weren’t even about sex. Michael never even proposed any sort of rendezvous. And Karen’s motivation was certainly not friendship. “I have enough friends,” she said.

“He’s not even trying to sleep with me, what’s the point of all this?”

I told her, “Karen you’re being e-maintained”

“Is that an official term?” she laughed.

The week before, I had come up with the term as a joke, but the idea actually made sense. Michael was maintaining her — keeping her, in his mind, satisfied — and he was doing it electronically.

My friend Julia was dealing with the same issue. She was subject to these short, rapid bursts of texting with men on a consistent basis and she always got her hopes up that something was moving forward, but there was nothing. No substance at all.

“Are these actual adult men with responsibilities or are they children? I can’t figure it out,” she said to me.

I’ve always been fascinated, and disgusted, by the notion that in order to be happy, women need to be “maintained” in a sexual and/or romantic relationship. This kind of treatment of women is on par with our taking care of a car in need of an oil change or dealing with a wood deck in the backyard in need of a coat of varnish.

The concept of maintaining women is billed, through the conditioning our culture imposes on men, as a solution to keep women from being hysterical. According to mainstream social ideas, women are illogical and crazy when it comes to relationships and dating. Men engage in conscious maintenance as a way to “calm” women down so they can get what they want from their women partners (sex, attention, etc.).

This is why so many men are in a rush to cram their love and affection into holidays, birthdays, anniversaries. We don’t teach men or boys that day-to-day affection is equally, if not more important, than special dates.

And what has always been alarming to me is that this so-called maintenance of women has defined behavior that shouldn’t be considered “extra” in any kind of relationship or partnership. Acts of maintenance consist of behavior that should be inherent and the foundation of all relationships: basic human respect, affection and attention.

So, if men are taught about certain critical steps to keeping women happy, “duties” that are treated not as normal behavior, but as annoying, time-consuming steps, how does this make women feel?

My friends, who are or were dealing with e-maintaining, or even just dealing with good-old-fashioned maintaining, are left in a strange, emotional limbo. Women who are “maintained” by men, electronic or otherwise, are made to feel legitimate for short periods of time and then left to question their position with their partners, and sometimes themselves.

Are these women supposed to be happy with a guy who stays in touch every-so-often on his terms? Are they supposed to be satisfied when their spouse buys them an expensive piece of jewelry or remembers their anniversary? Even though their love and/or attention come in waves — inconsistent and sometimes abrupt — are my women friends ungrateful for expecting something more, something more substantial, something more basic? Does any form of maintaining make up for days, weeks, months, years of emotional silence from men?

We’ve always conditioned men to maintain women — this isn’t something new. What’s different is this “maintenance” has become completely electronic for some men, and the men doing the “maintaining” aren’t seeing or even making an effort to see the women they connecting with. Men are just texting, emailing or using social media to give the impression they are checking in or they care — in order to maintain these women.

For these men, the definition of “maintenance” has shifted from traditional strategies like sending gifts and engaging in the occasional dinner, drinks or movie, to this incredibly convenient and empty form of communication based on text messages, emails, and social media: e-maintaining. And it is a mode of communication that isn’t even based in reality.

For some of my women friends, this kind of texting/emailing communication was keeping them engaged until they discovered what e-maintaining really means.

Some of the men I spoke with didn’t even realize their e-maintaining of women was a pattern of behavior. Most of them admitted to doing it when they were bored: waiting at the doctor’s office, in bed at night when they couldn’t sleep, at the airport.

But many of these men knew exactly what they were doing.

“You can’t write about this, you are literally ruining the greatest scam of the century,” my friend Carlos told me over breakfast.

“What’s the scam?”

“I can keep these women satisfied by just texting or emailing. I don’t have to do anything else.”

“It’s like walking a dog, as soon as you do it, they just calm down,” a progressive friend (more on that later) told me via email that same day.

So why not move forward, especially if some of these women are willing to sleep with them?

“Its about options, possibilities,” a friend added.

“I do this because I don’t want to hear her bitching about how I just call about sex, so this way I have a history of having stayed in touch.”

My friend Josh gave an example, “Last Thanksgiving when everyone was out of town, I had someone to hookup with, we even went to the movies.”

In this age of digital communication (texting, Facebook, email), our way of connecting has obviously become more frivolous. While our random, electronic check-ins with friends are usually made with good intentions, the men who engage in e-maintaining don’t want to be friends with the women they text and email (the women don’t want friendship either), and more significantly, their texting is not filled with good intentions.

So, is e-maintaining ultimately about men and women placing different weight on communication? Do women believe that communication is about moving forward — are they being practical and mature? And do men see communication in this form in a more flippant manner, that it doesn’t necessarily lend legitimacy to their desired outcomes?

Is e-maintaining more evidence of gender imbalance in our culture? Does this virtual maintenance of women show the lack of respect our culture requires or expects men to have for women?

Last week, I checked in with Karen to see if she was still pining for Michael and frustrated by his e-maintaining.

She has moved on.

And from now on, Karen’s policy is very simple when it comes to communicating with the men she is interested in, “Where’s the beef?”

The lack of substance in an e-maintained relationship no longer satisfies her.

Yashar Ali is a Los Angeles-based columnist, commentator, and political veteran whose writings about women, gender inequality, political heroism, and society are showcased on his website, The Current Conscience. Please follow him on Twitter and join him on Facebook. 

He will be soon releasing our first short e-book, entitled, A Message To Women From A Man: You Are Not Crazy — How We Teach Men That Women Are Crazy and How We Convince Women To Ignore Their Instincts. If you are interested and want to be notified when the book is released, please click here to sign-up.

Related Posts:
He Doesn’t Deserve Your Validation: Putting The Fake Orgasm Out of Business
A Message To Women From A Man: You Are Not Crazy

By Nicole Powers

As Americans, we like to think of ourselves as advanced and sophisticated as a society. Yet, when it comes to issues of gender equality the numbers don’t lie –– there’s no escaping the fact that we’re pretty damn backwards.

Women make up 51% of the US population, yet hold just 16.6% of the seats in Congress and 17% of those in the Senate. Indeed, we rank 90th in the world in terms of the proportion of women in national parliaments, below Afghanistan, Cuba, China, Ethiopia, Iraq, and the Sudan!

Furthermore, in America, just 3% of Fortune 500 CEOs are women. Similarly only 3% of positions of clout in the telecommunications, entertainment, publishing, and advertising industries are held by the fairer sex (pun intended). And this may be part of the problem, since those that are ultimately responsible for the aspirational messages we receive on a daily basis are predominantly male.

That’s not to say that the innate sexism that’s partly responsible for this power imbalance is necessarily malevolent or even intentional; the root of much of it is simply a lack of consciousness on all our parts. And to an extent, the state of play appears to be self-perpetuating, since a mere 16% of those responsible for Hollywood’s mass market dream machine (writers, directors, producers, cinematographers, and editors) are women, which in turn perhaps explains a similar lack of female protagonists/role models in feature films.

A much talked about new documentary, Miss Representation, which recently debuted on the OWN Network, does a very comprehensive job of exploring the underlying reasons for this vast leadership gender gap. The film features many prominent leading ladies including Nancy Pelosi, Condoleezza Rice, Dianne Feinstein, Gloria Steinem, Jane Fonda, Geena Davis, Rachel Maddow, Lisa Ling, and Katie Couric, whose powerful voices add strength to the message –– which is that a woman’s value is more than just the sum of her youth and beauty (as the mainstream media might have you believe).

SuicideGirls spoke with the driving force behind Miss Representation, Jennifer Siebel Newsom, who wrote, directed, and produced the exceptional cinematic gender essay. As a Stanford graduate, environmental and gender activist, actress, and mother –– who also happens to be the wife of the former Mayor of San Francisco, and current Lieutenant Governor of California, Gavin Newsom –- she’s had a front row seat watching what happens to women in power and how the media treats them, so perhaps has a greater understanding of the issues they face than most.

Read our exclusive interview with Jennifer Siebel Newsom on SuicideGirls.com.

by SG’s Team Agony feat. Yesenia and Atlea

Let us answer life’s questions – because great advice is even better when it comes from SuicideGirls.

Q. I have been in a relationship now for about a year and a half. She is about to move into my house but we are both feeling somewhat hesitant. She is a wonderful person and we share such great times together. But, every time a relationship reaches this point, I feel like it is time to move on. I continually go through this same feeling throughout the course of my relationships and life, and I am starting to wonder if I can ever be happy with any one person or if I am bound to continually reject someone who loves me after a year or so with them?

Confused.

A: You will need to ask yourself some questions before making a decision. Are you afraid of commitment? Do you ‘settle’ for someone and hope for the best, later to realize the realtionship is empty? What are some key things that have kept you with her for this long?

Sometimes chemistry fades, and as much as you would like to be in love with that person, it may be out of your hands. Just be sure to rule out any other possibilities first. You may need some time to clear your head, alone. Think about why your past relationships did not work, and if it was something that could have been noticed earlier on. It would be hurtful to both of you if you stayed in a relationship only to escape the hurt of breaking up. That is not a life, and we only get one – so follow your heart.

Were things great until you two decided to move in together? The answer to that may help you understand your situation. Are you bored and looking for excitement? Maybe checking out new places together and trying new things in the bedroom will help. When things get too repetitive – they can cause your brain to freak out. It is important to keep things interesting, but feeling bored in a long-term relationship is normal. It is a common issue for couples around the world.

Try looking at old pictures of the two of you and see what emotions you get out of that. If you do end up moving in together, make sure you talk about what would happen if you two broke up. Decide who would move out, and who would continue to complete the lease – or maybe you would both pay to cancel the lease. Also, make sure it is an affordable position incase one has to pay it alone. This will help you not feel trapped and give you some breathing room.

Best of luck to you!

Just relax, kisses xxx

Yesenia

Q. Never in my life did I think that I would have an issue with finding a woman that was up for sex all the time. I’ve been dating my fiancé for a year now, engaged for about 5 months. We moved in together about 3 months ago. I am a very busy project manager for a construction company and put in at least 55-60 hours a week. She is taking her CPA exams right now, which is a real bear. To support her in her endeavor, I told her to not worry about ANY of the cooking, cleaning, or household tasks. I told her to focus solely on this ridiculous exam. So after I come home anywhere between 6 and 9 o’clock, cook dinner, clean up and get settled, I’m finally spent. 

Here’s the gist: Whether or not she leads on or not, I feel the constant burning and aching in her crotch from across the room to get fucked. I know that she’s always craving my cock. It’s never in question. This in itself is badass, however, it’s become exhausting. 



Pre-story: My last serious girlfriend of 3+ years was a little frigid, and used sex or the withholding of sex to her ends. It got to a point when we were living together that we might only have sex 2 or 3 times a month. At which point, I told her to kick rocks because she was essentially just a roommate. She used to say, like I’m starting to feel now, that because I was always ready to rock, that it felt like there was no intrigue or mystery to rolling in the hay. The irony for me is clear and present. 

I feel ashamed because I sometimes think that I enjoy giving myself a tug on SG more than I do having sex my very sexy fiancé. I think part of it is because the women on SG are unobtainable to me thus being more attractive to than my insatiably cock-hungry lady. I’m very attracted to my fiancé, but her constant attention and need to for sex has actually become a turn-off. I have pretty much told her everything I just expressed to you, but what do you say? 


A: First and foremost, you probably shouldn’t bother feeling ashamed about giving yourself some solo loving and enjoying it. What you do with your hands and body on your own time can be separate from your sexual life with a partner. Secondly, congrats on having already talked about the situation with her. You didn’t give me any details on how that conversation went, which could have kept me from making assumptions, but I’ll try my best at giving my advice.

You seem to indicate two separate reasons as to why her constant need is bothering you. First, you mention how hard you work and how much extra time you put in at home to help her out. Does this, on it’s own, cause you to be exhausted? You didn’t mention if she’s working on top of being in school, but even then, I think it’d be fair game to ask her to help out at least once or twice a week. This way, at least subconsciously, you don’t feel as much pressure and responsibility towards her and the promise you made to her to help her with school. This would make you feel like more like a team, and that synergy can help spark back appreciation and even sometimes desire with it. Also, your levels of exhaustion might be more balanced if she did a few more chores.

Sex, in itself, isn’t necessarily a reward. Since you do everything else, she could possibly see having sex as a way of letting you know how much she appreciates everything you do for her. But maybe that’s not exactly what you need. This, of course, is something you’ll have to find out and work through with her. Maybe the constant demand for sex, or satisfying your better half, is making you feel pressured into it and let’s just all agree here that sex and pressure are not to be used in the same sentence if the objective is having a good time.

The second reason you’re expressing here is that there might be a bit of a lack of desire on your part because sex is just too readily available. I mean there’s only so much free candy that can make you happy, right? Going from a past relationship where sex was the holy end to a ridiculous (and quite unfair, if she was holding out on you for her own means) quest, to a new relationship where it’s just so easy to get (even when you don’t want it) is tough! It’s hard for you to compare, and let’s face it, there are always things that we will compare. Not that this is necessarily an unhealthy thing, sometimes you learn from your mistakes but you need to remember them to be able to find a resolution best fitted for the situation at hand.

Let her know you need the chase. Tell her you’re still very much attracted to her, but you’d like to feel challenged at times. This might seem like an awkward thing to bring up, but it is the truth, and until she knows there’s no way she’ll be able to change that. Especially, like I mentioned before, if she thinks that this is what you’d want or expect. Maybe try playing some sex games, or introducing it in some other routine. Maybe don’t have sex every time she wants it, but take the time to appreciate the other parts of your bodies. Rediscover each other. Snuggle together without having the intention/pressure to fuck. But beforehand, make it clear to her that it’s not because you don’t appreciate sex with her, it’s more that you’d like some moments of pure intimacy with her and her body to just appreciate her as a whole.

Lastly, you mentioned that ‘whether she leads on or not’ you feel her constant need to get fucked. I can’t help but feel that unless she’s constantly asking and/or badgering you for it, maybe you’re actually putting a little too much pressure on yourself? Hopefully you’re not being your own enemy here, but it may be something to look into as well. In any case, take the time to find out how you both can work a schedule that leaves neither of you exhausted, and find a way to make sex and love part of the same whole. Sex should always be a fun adventure, so eliminate where the pressure’s coming from and the whole thing should work itself out.

Atlea

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