Limits

Dan Savage* has a term he uses called GGG. Good, giving, game. A GGG partner is all about being open to his/her lover’s sexual quirks. All he’s saying, basically, is give kinks a chance. Who knows, maybe you’ll like it. I think it’s generally a good way to be. Hypothetically, anyway.

I try to be GGG. You wanna suck on my toes? OK. Try it. I might accidentally kick you in the face in a paroxysm of ticklishness, but I tried, right? Whoa, in the dressing room? I dunno. Shhh. There’s someone in the next stall. Hold your breath. Let’s see.

But I’ve found a few of my limits over the years. Among them: Dudes in lady underthings. OK, I know what you’re thinking; I’ve only experienced it with one dude.** So the plural is technically not correct. But I think that this is one of those things, like, say, a lover with a tail or a tendency to punch you in the face. Maybe you’ve only tried it once, but you know whether you’re in or you’re out.

So Mopey and I had been together awhile. How long? Long. We’d tried some things. But when he started dipping his toes into the lingerie bin, I had to stop short. No thanks.

I thought he, too, was OK with the arrangement. The “I wear the panties in this relationship” arrangement. Delusional? Perhaps. Well, wait, apparently, yes. Delusional. I discovered one day when I was browsing through the digital camera we shared. Apparently he’d had a private photo session. And forgot to delete.

So what’s a girl to do? I decided to check in with Dan.

Dan’s advice? In a nutshell, “If you don’t love it, leave it. He’ll never stop.”

I did, eventually. I did. I made a huge mess out of the whole process, because in my attempt to be “GGG,” I made it seem as if I’d forgiven the whole episode when he played it off as “curiosity.” Hey, I’ve been curious. Taking pics of my ass in a thong and garter curious, not so much. And I already own those things. But I hate being judgmental, generally. While I might Judge you for wearing socks with sandals, I try to withhold judgment about what you do in the sack. Although, in the end I realized that it's totally OK to judge what someone does in the sack with you if he's your boyfriend. And for me, cross-dressers need not apply.


*If you don’t read Savage Love, you’re missing out. I have never, ever, read a single bit of advice from him that I didn’t agree with. Which in my book basically translates as “100% accuracy.” Because I’m really never wrong either. I’d put a gold stamp on my ass or his.

**You weren’t thinking that?