Dear Irby and Ian:
Are men intimidated by kink? I love it all: spanking, biting, breathplay, rough sex, etc. Is that a turn-off? Most men I've met were kind of uncomfortable with it and made me feel like I have to fake being into vanilla sex.
original advice dude's answer: Deep down many/most men are intimated by women who really know their way around sex. It is intimidating. It makes them "kind of uncomfortable" as you say. The reason sucks, but is very simple: It doesn't play into our overall sexual and social narrative. The one society rains down on us and we internalize as correct: men are the sexual aggressors and women are the willing reactors. Is every dude a slave to this? No, absolutely not. But when a woman asks point blank to be bit, spanked, pulled, or smacked it makes a good portion of guys somehow, suddenly not want to bite, spank, pull, or smack you. You relieve them of "the power" and "pilot status" in bed consequently rendering them neutral at best or retreating and dismissive at worst.
irby: there are two things I TOTALLY FUCKING HATE. 1 the idea that someone might be into some bedroom shit that is so advanced and exciting that i've never heard of it and 2 having to look up dirty sex shit on my computer at work. doesn't this bitch know that this privacy setting shit is going to get my ass caught up? what if someone walks in just as i'm clicking through these google images?! (i learn better from pictures, so shut up. also, i hate reading.) listen, i watch so much porn that i had to get a smartphone to make masturbating on-the-go easier (and lightning fast thanks to my nationwide unlimited 4G coverage), so why is breathplay a thing i've never goddamned been asked to do?!
BUT FIRST. at ladies night a couple weeks ago one of my ladyfriends was telling me that recently she'd found herself watching torture porn and asked if i had ever seen any. ever the jackass, i said, "like those 'saw' movies? girrrrrrl, you know i'm too scared to watch that horror shit." she shook her head sadly. "baby, imma email you a link," she promised, petting me on the soft, unformed hole at the top of my newborn head. "you have so much to learn." do i, though? i mean, how many different ways can two human beings with a limited number of both orifices and appendages possibly have sex? the older i get the less i'm interested in watching people spit in each other's faces and fart on birthday cakes to get off. the only porn i can stand nowadays is the fruity soft-focus kind with lots of hair-stroking and intense eye gazing. seriously, i really need to know that these people FUCKING LOVE EACH OTHER, GODDAMN IT. *welp*
i clicked the link she sent and immediately snatched my computer's power cord from the goddamned wall and glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one had snuck into my apartment and seen me looking at that shit. i thought "torture" was fucking hyperbole, dude. i did not know that people liked bloody broken bottle sex. i did not know that an aluminum baseball bat could fit in a butthole. I CAN NEVER UN-SEE THAT TERRIBLE SHIT. and all i could think after ten of the most horrible seconds of my life (okay okay, thirty) was, "i really need to disassociate myself from this bitch."
here's what the internet says about breathplay: erotic asphyxiation or breath control play is the intentional restriction of oxygen to the brain for sexual arousal. the sexual preference for that behavior is variously called asphyxiophilia, autoerotic asphyxia, hypoxyphilia. colloquially, a person engaging in the activity is sometimes called a gasper.
OH. okay. that choking shit? that's all this is? well, that is way less exciting than i was hoping for. i've witnessed a roman shower, girl. (google that shit if you would like to RUIN YOUR ENTIRE LIFE.) this choking business is kids' stuff. i was thinking (hoping!) that maybe this broad had devised a way to bring a dude to orgasm just by breathing on him. that's the kind of shit i could go for. all of this sweating and removal of clothing is downright horrible. let's just breathe on each other for twenty minutes then get up and make some nachos and watch the goddamned game. i'm down for whatever you need to do to get yourself off, but the thought of fainting makes me uneasy. my worst nightmare is having to maneuver some passed out dude out of my bed before rolling him down the stairs or into the elevator and making an anonymous call to 911 for them to come get his ass from in front of my building. i mean, how do you explain that shit if he doesn't wake up?! "i am so sorry, officer. i totally didn't mean to kill this motherfucker. by the way, have you ever heard of breathplay?"
so, this internet manswer is the reason most women want to rip the spine out of a dude before setting him on fire on some tekken fatality shit. that madonna-whore thing is the absolute worst. just has having a preference for cheddar cheese on your hamburger does not make you a compulsive overeater, knowing you want a dude to pull your hair out at the root and sink his teeth into your shoulder doesn't make you some dick-gobbling slutface. COME ON, MAN. it only takes having sex one fucking time to know what you do and don't like. it doesn't take a hundred failed attempts to know that a tongue in your ear grosses you out, and it really only takes one good stab with a kitchen utensil to know that yes, you'll be wanting some more of THAT.
playing demure is gross unless that really is your thing. if, by nature, you are a tepid little flower too shy to ask for her meat pink and her coffee black, then yes, it's cool to just lie there and let that dude have a seizure on top of you while you work on a sudoku or whatever. but after a certain age (and yes, a certain number of manseizure-induced vaginal yawns) you just have to speak up for yourself. even if what you want is disgusting or weird (or involves spikes through your nipples and being tied to a bedpost with barbed wire omg scarred for life i just can't with that), ASK FOR THAT SHIT. what do you do at starbucks, just stand in line mute until someone intuits that you want an iced americano?
if a dude thinks your asking that he zap you with a taser or put your face into a lawnmower or whatever it is that gets you off means you've got "pilot status" or makes him uncomfortable (poor baby), that's probably not a dude worth your strap-on and velcro restraints. a real man doesn't need a realdoll. for real.
now that we've cleared that up, exactly what is this vanilla sex of which you speak? i've never heard of that before! does that mean i get to eat haagen-dazs out of the small of a dude's back? or do we just have to light some vanilla candles during the sex? what i gotta do, girrrrrrrl, bake some cupcakes and shit? WHY IS EVERYONE MORE ADVANCED AT BANGING THAN I AM?!