I've been reading your column for years. Until recently, I never really thought I would ever need to specifically ask for your advice, since I liked to think I'd absorbed enough "Savage Love" to have a decent intuition on how to run my sex life. But here I am.I'm a 27-year-old single gay woman. I spent the last two weeks doing a backcountry hike with a guy I had met a few months ago. He was doing it for work (freelance travel writer), and since he didn't set off my
sketch-alarm, and as I'm not employed at the moment, I thought it'd be a fun adventure so I said yes when he asked if I wanted to come. Since I had known him for such a short period, I asked around our mutual larger social circles to see if it was a blatantly stupid idea. Everyone thought it was a fine plan.And it was fantastic. The hiking was amazing, I loved the wilderness, we wound up having lots of heart-to-heart conversations.... you see where this is going, right?
I have issues with personal space, especially with men, and I was really proud of myself when I got to the point of not flipping out whenever our elbows scraped against each other. I was also happy when the thought of sharing one small tent stopped setting off small panic attacks. And then sharing one small air mattress. Because normal people can do that, right? Apparently not, because sharing an air mattress led to cuddling, which led to making out, which led to cunnilingus, which led to screaming orgasms.
Keeping your philosophy in mind, I was as honest as I could bear to be. I was open about my past experiences with men (more than 5 years ago) and that they all ended uncomfortably at best and severely
traumatic at worst. I made it clear that while I very much enjoyed making out, there are some (okay, lots of) things I just can't do with him. He was okay with all of that! In fact, our various sexual quirks seemed to make us a good match. He is, without a doubt, the most tender, giving and least demanding sexual partner I've had. By the end of the trip, it was getting increasingly clear that he had fallen for me pretty hard, and I was also less sure of my own feelings.I guess this all boils down to two questions. One, how bi am I? I'm really not particularly aroused by his body, not that there's anything wrong with it, as much as I'm aroused by naked ladies. But the way he touches me, I end up coming like a banshee. Two, what's the ethical thing to do at this point? He's very much infatuated, which honestly is very flattering. I think he's a really cool guy, and I want to be friends with him. But is that motivated simply by my desire to keep having fantastic orgasms?
Help me, Dan Savage, you're my only hope. I can't talk to my friends about this. They're all lesbians and they'll give me shit about going straight.
Do I Really Need An Acronym?
My response after the jump...