The lady upstairs goes down on me

May 4, 2005 at 12:00 am

Q: I am a 25-year-old SWM who lives in a large apartment complex. Over the past several months, the woman who lives upstairs from me has fallen into the habit of coming downstairs once or twice a week and giving me a blow job. She seems fairly normal, and is about 10 years older than me. She doesn’t want to go out on dates and she doesn’t expect me to reciprocate. We don’t even really talk that much.

I know the idea of having a blow job twice a week with no strings attached is every guy’s dream, but I can’t help but wonder what is up with this. What is her motivation? Should I be worried, or should I just not look a gift mouth in the mouth? —Satisfied But Nervous

A: You sound like a nice guy, SBN. But you know what? Nice guys, as a general rule, don’t “fall into the habit” of putting their cocks into the mouths of people they can’t make small talk with.

Look, even if you’re only having a just-head-thanks relationship with your neighbor, it’s still a relationship. If you’re wondering what’s up with your neighbor, if you want to know what she’s getting out of this, if you’re worried, then have the balls and the decency to ask her what’s up. There’s nothing about NSA arrangements that prevents a person from being considerate. I’m not suggesting that you draw her into a long, involved conversation about her feelings or your relationship. It doesn’t sound like she’s particularly interested in that kind of a conversation. But you can check in with her. Try saying something like, “Gee whiz, I want you to know how grateful I am for all the amazing head. I also want to make sure that you’re OK and that I’m not exploiting you. It would help put me at ease if you told me what you’re getting out of this.”

What will she say in response? Maybe she’ll tell you that sexually servicing a younger man has always been her ultimate fantasy or that there’s something about your come that just makes her happy. If you hear anything along those lines, SBN, then everything’s cool and you can go back to being serviced with a clear conscience. But if she’s sucking you off twice a week because it’s the only thing that seems to quiet the voices in her head — voices that may be telling her to bite some dude’s dick off — wouldn’t you like to know that?

 

Q: I’m a sexually adventurous guy but I had an uncomfortable reaction to your advice for TRADE, the guy who wants to be a hustler for a day. To be more specific, it was with the pimp part. Most prostitutes would probably tell you that pimps are violent, vicious, brutal, dehumanizing motherfuckers. Many a woman (and man) has ended up dead at the hands of a pimp. I would really leave that part out of the fantasy. It’s creepy, like saying, “Hey, then you can pretend your pimp is dismembering you and putting you in plastic bags,” or “Then have your fantasy pimp hit you so hard on the side of the head that you’re blind in one eye.” Pimping is a shitty, shitty thing to do, and this guy’s fantasy is better off without it. —Mark In Astoria

A: Real pimps are often violent, maladjusted parasites who abuse and terrorize prostitutes. No argument there. But I didn’t suggest that TRADE go and find himself a real pimp, MIA. I advised him to find a friend willing to play the pimp and make all the arrangements necessary for TRADE to realize his hustler fantasies.

Sorry, MIA, but I can’t let you declare fantasies about real-life motherfuckers as somehow out of bounds. Where would ruling out fantasy versions of violent, vicious, brutal and dehumanizing motherfuckers leave, say, people into BDSM? Real people who own real slaves are violent, vicious, brutal, etc., as are real rapists, real prison guards, real Republicans, and on and on. In our fantasy lives we’re free to pretend to own or be slaves, rape or be raped, pimp or be pimped, imprison or be imprisoned, gut Social Security or protect it, and on and on. PC simply doesn’t apply to fantasy role-playing scenarios.

 

Q: You must be aware of the activities of Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist. When he’s not spreading disinformation about HIV transmission, misdiagnosing Terri Schiavo after watching four-year-old videotape, or speaking at some fundamentalist Christian conclave where “activist” judges are being compared to terrorists, he’s threatening to rewrite Senate rules to ram through the latest Clarence Thomas clones. I think Dr. Bill deserves a santorum-style moniker. Why don’t you challenge your readers to come up with an appropriate unmentionable sex act incorporating his name, but this time make it a verb. To frist, getting fristed, into fristing …

I think there’s potential here! —Bonnie In San Diego

A: Whenever a religious conservative says something stupid in public — and we can mark the quarter hour by their idiotic statements these days — readers urge me to give ’em the santorum treatment. Recent nominees include Antonin Scalia, James Dobson, Gary Bauer, Tom DeLay, Marilyn Musgrave, Bill Gates and Joseph Ratzinger. People! I can’t name a sex act after every idiot member of the American Taliban or new pope who comes along! First off, lightning is unlikely to strike twice. The definition of santorum that my readers whipped up (“that frothy mix of lube and fecal matter that is sometimes the byproduct of anal sex”) is a little smear of perfection. Not only did it forever link Sen. Rick Santorum to anal sex, one of his obsessions, but the substance itself is unwelcome and revolting, much like the senator himself. Can we top Santorum/santorum? I doubt it.

What’s more, there are more American Taliban running around than there are disgusting sex acts or byproducts in need of monikers. We would quickly run out of disgusting sex acts and byproducts and then be forced to name pleasurable sex acts after members of the American Taliban. I don’t know about you, BISD, but I don’t ever want to hear my boyfriend say, “Stick your dobson in my scalia, big bauer, and musgrave the gates out of me until I ratzinger.” Could any man maintain an erection after hearing that?

And as for Bill Frist, yeah, he’s a freakin’ asswipe. But any attempt to attach his name to a sex act will only confuse people. If you tell someone you’re into “fristing” they’re going to think you’re a fist-fucker with a speech impediment. And, really, Bill Frist doesn’t need my help ruining his good name. He’s doing a good job of that all by himself.

Hey, Readers: Looking for a Mother’s Day gift? Don’t want to pour money into the already deep pockets of a bunch of sodomite florists? Last year’s pot brownies didn’t go over as well as you hoped? My mother and I both enjoyed Ann Landers in Her Own Words: Personal Letters to Her Daughter, by Margo “Dear Prudence” Howard. I’m an Ann Landers fan — I am, as always, writing these words sitting behind the desk Landers wrote her own column at for 40 years — and Ann’s letters to Margo are hilarious and touching.

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