How to Do It is Slate’s sex advice column. Have a question? Send it to Jessica and Rich here. It’s anonymous!
Dear How to Do It,
I am a 59-year-old disabled woman who has used Facebook to reconnect with a 72-year-old man whom I worked with/for 20 years ago. We started talking on the phone and fell in love. We just recently discovered phone sex and it is fantastic. Right now we are super long distance but after I get my hip replacement, we plan to be together. My problem is that I was celibate for 20-plus years. When I had a Pap smear a couple of years ago, I was extremely dry and it was very painful. The gynecologist at the time mentioned something about my pelvic floor “seizing up.” My question is: What can I do to prepare for a very active sexual life again?
—Raring to Go
Dear Raring to Go,
A visit to the gynecologist’s office and a romp with a romantic partner are two very different things. That said, your body is older than it was when you were last having sex, and you may find that certain positions no longer work for you. Ask the doctor handling your hip replacement what that means as far as aftercare and what kinds of strain you’ll want to avoid. While you’re at it, check in with your gynecologist (it might be time for another Pap smear anyway) and ask about their thoughts on the seizing you experienced at your last visit. If you aren’t already masturbating during your phone sex sessions, add that in and see how your body responds.
When you do meet up with your long-distance love, keep in mind that the kind of fantasy you engaged in over the phone might not be how you have sex in person. You might need more foreplay, you might need time to relax, and you’ll almost certainly need lubricant—most of us do. You also might find that continuing to fantasize out loud to each other enhances your experiences of physical contact.
If you are finding that you’re feeling too tense when you try to engage in penetration, slow things down. Listen to your body’s signals. And if you’re experiencing consistent pain, see a specialist.
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Dear How to Do It,
I’ve never been in a BDSM relationship, but some of it is appealing to me. How do I find out whether I’m actually interested in it? I’ve never been into any “kink.” I like variety and have always felt like kinks become limiting for those who have them. I’ve never been in a D/s relationship, but several aspects of them appeal to me on both sides. However, some aspects of them would likely turn me off. The problem I find is that if you aren’t an established Dom, a sub doesn’t want to let you try. I feel like going the other way may be easier. What can you suggest?
—Switch Flitter
Dear Switch Flitter,
I’m not sure where you got the idea that kinks are limiting and am wondering if you’re thinking of fetishes (in the clinical sense, where they’re defined as necessary for sexual fulfillment). Regardless, it seems like you have a couple of rigid beliefs about sex, and it’s worth considering where those come from. If your ideas of kinky and BDSM sex are coming from anti-sex rhetoric, or from erotic novels, they’re probably not the norm in reality. To be clear, listening to the conflicting opinions of others can be useful, and reading erotic novels can be great for fantasy and ideas, but neither is a functional education.
Whether you’re in the dominant or submissive role, healthy BDSM sex involves negotiation—that’s where you discuss what appeals to you and what turns you off, and find out where you and your partner overlap. While you, or they, might do things outside of your turn-ons, in the spirit of giving, or exploration, or because making your partner feel good makes you feel good, you (and they) don’t have to. Basically, every instance of BDSM sex is customizable. You aren’t signing up for every activity that falls under the umbrella of BDSM.
I’m also wondering whether you’re suggesting advanced BDSM practices to subs (say, high protocol, 365 ownership, whipping, or secure bondage) without the experience and learning necessary to do them with some modicum of safety. On the other side of that coin, I worry that you might jump into such advanced practices with a dominant before you’ve established real trust and an idea of where your boundaries are. Without more detail about what appeals to you and what turns you off, I’m guessing in the dark here.
One thing you can do is practice being specific about the kind of sex you want to have. Maybe this is in a journal, and maybe it’s with prospective partners. Another thing you can do is participate in classes—most major cities have BDSM groups that offer educational sessions about everything from scene negotiation to how to flog safely. You’re likely to meet other people with the same interests and have an opportunity to explore various facets of BDSM, which will help you gain a better understanding of, and vocabulary around, what you want. Remember that there’s no such thing as safe, only safer, and that you get to choose what you engage in.
Dear How to Do It,
I’m a 29-year-old woman who has never had sex. After a few short relationships and uncomfortable sexual encounters, I’ve figured out that I’m probably somewhere on the asexual spectrum. That’s not a bad thing, and I’m actually very happy to learn there’s a classification for what I am rather than just feeling like I’m wired wrong.
That said, there’s a lot of variation in what ace can mean, and I’m interested in exploring what I am and am not interested in. Part of that means masturbation. Just because I don’t feel like a super sexual person doesn’t necessarily mean my body doesn’t respond to stimuli. Personally, I’m interested in reaching orgasm—part of me feels like I’m missing out. I want sex to be less mysterious even if I’m not interested in having it with anyone else at the moment, and I think it’ll make me feel more connected to my own body (right now, the most physical touch I’m giving myself is my monthly breast self-exam).
However, it’s tough to find resources about this for my kind of audience, even as I’m taking it slow. A lot of how-to’s say things like “Relax and think about what gets you aroused” but, that’s not a step I’m really capable of (see: being ace). I’ve never sexually fantasized about anyone, so am I even going to be able to get in the headspace to masturbate? Looking for vibrators online, there seems to be a difference between penetration-focused toys and ones more aimed at clitoral stimulation. I honestly don’t know which of these would work for me and am anxious at the idea of trying to figure it out. Are there any resources, practices, or helpful hints here? I have spent so long not ever thinking of my body as a sexual thing at all, so climaxing feels almost like too steep of a hill to climb.
—Not Horny But Getting There
Dear Not Horny But Getting There,
A phrase that jumped out at me is “doesn’t necessarily mean my body doesn’t respond to stimuli.” So, rather than try to conjure arousal through mental and emotional means, look for what stimuli your body responds to. Put fantasy aside and focus on purely practical physicality.
Start with your whole body. Try soft, light touches on your arms, thighs, lower legs, feet, the back of your neck, and your sides. Try a more firm touch and massaging sensations. Check-in with your vulva throughout—are you feeling engorgement, a gathering of fluid, or anything you would call “heat”? If so, make note of the sensation. If you feel comfortable continuing, do the same kinds of touch mentioned above on your breasts, ass, the outsides of your labia, and on the area above your public bone. Again, take note of sensations that increase your feeling of stimulation. If you don’t feel comfortable continuing, leave it for another day.
If you do feel like you’re getting aroused, grab some lubricant and start exploring your clitoris and vaginal canal. You can do this with your fingers to start (some women prefer fingers their whole lives). Squeeze your clitoris through the hood gently, stroke the glans, and insert a finger into your vagina. If any of that feels good, you’ll have data on both what kinds of toys you might prefer and what you might want to continue with in the moment. Again, though, only proceed as you feel comfortable. This isn’t a requirement, this is something you’re interested in possibly doing for yourself, so you can take your time.
—Jessica Stoya
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