I have a question about my boyfriend (M, 26) and me (F, 23). We have a fling (F, 23), but this is not a poly question. My live-in boyfriend (C) has been out of work or under-employed since I met him. There's a handful of reasons for this; choice of degree, lack of entry-level work in his field, etc., bring him to retail and general labor jobs. He's dissatisfied with these jobs, quits or gets fired, and finds another job a month or five when money is tight. C's chronic depression combines with his lack of prospects, so it's been three years of us dating while he cycles in and out of mediocre jobs with no transferable skills. C moved in with me (and out of his mother's house) in August. We both hoped this move would kick-start his job hunt. It did not. A while ago I sat with him and we had "A Talk." I said he had until my next lease renewal in February to get his career act together, because I don't want to spend much more of my life watching him have the same existential crisis on repeat, with no personal growth resulting. He cried; I cried; he quit his job the next week and has not even applied to the jobs he's found since then. I can use help with rent during a transitional phase, and it would crush C to have to move back in with his mom (like—probably months of depression) and lose me in one swoop. He's a decent lay and he's my lay and it's comfortable. So, one novel later: What is my responsibility?
Not His Mother
You have a responsibility to DTMFA—you owe it to yourself, NHM, and it's in his best interest too. Right now he's flying with a net, i.e. you and your willingness to support him financially, and he consequently doesn't have to get his shit together financially or psychologically. He hasn't had to for a long time, he hasn't. Maybe if he has to, he will.
I've been with my partner for about three years. He loves blowjobs; I love giving him blowjobs. The issue is my gag reflex. It's always been super sensitive and in the past I really didn't give head because I was so self-conscious. With my current partner however I really worked through it by incorporating my hand more, taking quick breaks, and moving slowly. That's been working really well until the past month or so. Suddenly, I'm back to gagging when I take more than just the tip. I can push through that, but it's not as much fun for me and it makes swallowing nearly impossible. Now it's in my head, and I don't know what the fuck to do.
Girl Against Gagging
Slobber, retch, repeat.
In other words, keep giving those blowjobs—power through this setback—and don't let gagging become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Instead of telling yourself, "I gag a lot now," tell yourself, "I'll get back to not gagging so much soon." Then there's your run of the mill/relatively helpful advice, GAG: slow down, breathe, use your hand or use both of your hands (the best blowjobs are blowjob/handjob combos), and remember: swallowing is nice, swallowing is emotionally/erotically significant for many, but swallowing is extra credit:
Because, technically speaking, swallowing happens after the blowjob is over. Yes, yes: it happens almost immediately after the blow job. But as swallowing happens after the blowee comes, the blower has finished the job. Now some people regard swallowing as highly erotic and deeply meaningful and blah blah transcendent connection blah or blah blah demeaning-but-hot blah. But I don't think a blowee—particularly one who has been blown to completion—is in any position to complain about how the blower opts to dispose of his come. Swallow, spit, let it run out the corners of your mouth: so long as the blower doesn't make a Mr. Yuck face, run to the toilet, and noisily spit the blowee's load into the sink—he dropped a load in your mouth, blower, not a turd—the blowjob is over and the blowee's work is done.
You could also give poppers a try. Not the poppers they serve as appetizers at Red Robin. No, no. The popular-with-the-gays sex drug made of alkyl nitrites, mostly isopropyl nitrite and isobutyl nitrite. You sniff them and they loosen up your involuntary muscles—many/most/gay people react to this all-loosened-up feeling by jamming something large into every one of their holes. There are actual and legitimate "health concerns," as they say, some troubling evidence that some types of poppers might cause eye damage, and you're gonna wanna make sure you're actually using poppers. But if you get actual poppers and you only use them once or twice—and only to help you get past your current mental/esophageal block—you're unlikely to go blind or drop dead. (Also, too: don't drink poppers.)
I am so excited to go to HUMP! this year. I will be going with two of my friends in good old kinky Olympia. First-time HUMP! for my two friends. One friend knows about HUMP! and the other friend thinks we are going to a film festival. Friend #1 thinks it’ll be funny for the shock value. Am I obligated to tell friend #2 about the nature of the films? Is wanting to see her reaction to the films part of my own kink? Also, Friend #2 is in her 40s and going through her own sexual revolution. She called me immediately after she had her first multiple orgasm experience. So it’s not like she's super uptight about sexuality.
Wild Olympian Woman
Your friend is an adult, she's sex-positive, and she's curious—and on top of all that, she's unlikely to make it into theater without figuring out HUMP! is a porn festival. (There's some pretty explicit signage at HUMP!, an ID check at the door, and a pre-show talk about what you're about to see.) So she'll know what she's in for/what you've done and have time to bail before the show starts. If you think your friend might feel pressured to stay (ticket is paid for, she doesn't want to seem like a prude), WOW, assure her once she realizes what HUMP! is that she's free to go, you'll eat the price of the ticket, and you guys can meet back up in roughly 103 minutes. I hope your friend chooses to stay—because, hey, even prudes who hate porn think HUMP! is a societal good.
HUMP! runs this weekend in Seattle, Portland, and Olympia—get your tickets here!