Ask Beastly: Thong Slut

Hallo! My name is Alexander Cheves, but lovers call me Beastly. I am an author and sex educator. I wrote a book, which you can buy here. Visit my Linktree to see everything else.

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I’m a 23-year-old gay guy in my first real relationship (international long distance with one or two visits a year), and I’m really worried that I’m not built for sex. Everyone always makes it sound like this crazy amazing thing but I don’t feel very sensitive at all when my boyfriend gives me a blowjob or handjob. I can’t even cum without my own hand or looking at porn together. I’ve hooked up with a few people in college and I’ve never been able to cum with them either, and it’s never felt that *great*. Even sex toys like butt plugs and dildos are exciting I guess, but they never feel amazing or directly stimulating. I feel like I’m broken below the belt. Do you have any tips for this sort of problem?

Hey, kiddo. 

We’re gay, so we usually find sex late — after our hetero peers have been dating and fucking for a few years. For us, high school sex tends to be secretive and rare. In college — a stressful time when we are meant to figure out what to do with life — we still barely know our bodies. 

But you know all this. You lived it — you’re living it now. You’re 23, either still in school or just out, and this is your first “real” relationship. That’s scary and exciting, so it makes sense that you might be particularly critical of your body and sexual responses right now: you want this thing to work. 

And since it’s international long-distance — which, as I have written before, is not advised, especially not for your first relationship — you likely have brief windows to play in, which builds pressure to make that sex really good. Good enough to keep him interested when he’s away.

But at 23 — with, it seems, not much sexual experience and no satisfying sexual experience behind you — how can you know your turn-ons? All people, gay and straight, must learn how to have sex. It doesn’t come naturally. We have to learn what sex we like, what sensations feel good, how to communicate these things to partners, and much more. This takes years. Even when you think you know what you like, you then must get enough practice that it starts being enjoyable, not stressful. 

Take, for example, bottoming: many guys have an idea that they want to get fucked, but then they try it a few times and it sucks. They often (mistakenly) decide then that they are not bottoms or into bottoming. If it doesn’t feel good, they’re not into it, right? 

Wrong. Bottoming must be learned, and it’s hard to learn. It always feels uncomfortable at first. I think most sex does. Sex (all sex, gay and straight) isn’t a thing you magically slip into where your body just knows what to do, and until you get more confidence and practice, most sex for most people feels uncomfortable, strange, and dissatisfying at first — especially with the pressure of a new relationship. You are probably worried that if you don’t get this sex stuff sorted, you’ll ruin this great new thing, and that pressure is not helping. (This should be obvious, but if he can’t respect your journey, let you play at your own speed, and help you explore your body in new ways to see what feels good, he’s not a keeper.)

It’s strange to think pleasure must be learned, but it does. Like any skill, you get better at pleasure with practice and patience. So it may be too early to say you are “broken below the belt”. I don’t think you have enough data (sex history) to say that. 

So, give it more time, get more practice, expect that some sex will be good in that time and some will not, and suspend all self-judgment until you have more data (more sex) behind you. If after 3 years you still feel kaputt, read the rest of my answer. 

If, after enough experience, you still don’t feel pleasure or arousal in sex and have not found ways to achieve and enjoy orgasm, it could be a medical problem. You should talk to your physician about this, and if you don’t feel safe doing so (if, say, your physician is a matronly, conservative woman) you should find a new one — a young, gay-friendly one. 

It could be that your body doesn’t make enough testosterone, and you might need to take testosterone replacement therapy, like many guys do. Like I do. 

It’s best to rule out a medical reason before moving to psychology since medical reasons are easier to treat. If no medical reason presents itself, it’s time to talk to a therapist and see if they can help (again, a young, progressive, gay-friendly one). Everyone needs a therapist, and therapy works. Many people have sexual traumas they need help unpacking, and this is doubly true for guys like us. Also, both depression and the drugs used to treat it can affect sex in the ways you describe. A therapist can help you sort that out.

Trauma can present itself as problems like what you describe. It sounds like your sexual struggles — be they medical or psychological — are impacting your life. They are enough to make you ask me for advice. So I think they deserve the potentially long and stressful process of finding someone who can help you, which will involve making multiple doctor appointments and potentially trying several professionals before making progress. This can and will be frustrating — but worth it. 

If you’re still struggling to feel pleasure or orgasm in all the different kinds of sex you try at 26 or 27, find a doctor. Then find a therapist. Therapists and doctors are how I have made it this long. I am a chronically ill person with a difficult mind. I have needed lots of help along the way.

Finally, you might just be asexual. I’m not sure about this though, since it sounds like you want sex and are happy chasing it — you just wish it felt better. Asexuals do not connect to people sexually. That doesn’t sound like you, but look into the asexual community online and see if their experiences and responses match yours. You may be a “side,” a man who likes men but does not like anal sex. The world is filled with sides, and we are increasingly learning, thanks to the Internet, how many ace (internet slang for “asexual”) people are out there in the world.

I know there are no simple answers here. Sorry for that. But you don’t have a simple problem. You feel something is not working in your body but don’t know what. Regardless of what is really going on, I imagine that lack of clarity is the worst part. Take it from someone (me) who is chronically ill, often for no apparent reason: when there’s nothing to pinpoint as the direct cause of suffering, it’s easy to fall into depression and feel like my whole body, my whole self, is broken. I catch myself falling into this trap all the time, especially when I’ve had a bad sick streak — when I’ve spent more time sick than well.

But I’m not broken. Just as you are not broken. We just have things going on that must be figured out. There’s nothing wrong with us as people, but there might be hangups and traumas in the mind and things happening in the body that need to be sorted out. Experts can help with that.

Your solution might be really easy: maybe you haven’t had enough sex to know what you like, or perhaps have not explored your body enough to know what things turn you on. At all stages of sexual development, solo time is just as important as time with others: masturbation and self-pleasure, solo toy play, and solo porn watching — all these help us connect with what we like, which we can then bring to our play sessions. I found fisting this way (solo porn time) and it’s now the best journey of my sex life. Try more sex! Try kink! Try many (many!) different sex partners.

And try to get out of the self-talk that you are defunct. You are a unique being. No one’s sexuality will be quite like yours. You don’t have to align your sexuality to the world. You can make your own rules. You just have to find the right people that match your groove and get you off.

Love, Beastly

I was raised conservative Christian and was doing the whole waiting until marriage.  It was only as I turned 50 that I dropped that nonsense.  I am generally attracted to cis and trans women.  I attempted to top for two different trans women but failed to get my cock to insert into their anus/rectum. I did all that is recommended.  My penis was as hard as it ever is and I used plenty of lube.  Having a conservative Christian message playing in my head, I thought it wasn’t God’s will for my life or my penis is too small between 4-5” erect.  What are your thoughts? I want to try bottoming but I am not into the whole rectum cleansing thing. At 58, perhaps I am too old for it all.

Baby, 

Sex continues long after 58 among my friends, so let’s do away with that idea. I am not sure what actually happened when you tried to fuck. Your penis was hard. You could not insert it because it was too small? Normally guys with smaller penises have an easier time getting it in but might struggle to please their partners once they’re in. Really big dicks are the ones that some people simply can’t get in — because they’re too big, too painful for the person bottoming.

I don’t see how being too small kept you from physically penetrating someone. So it sounds like something mental was going on — something related to your upbringing, your past beliefs. 

But again, I’m not sure. Your question isn’t clear. If you felt shame and had to stop, it’d be evident what needs to be worked on: shame. If that were the case, I’d say to get more sexual practice and invest in connections (friendly, sexual, romantic) with people who challenge your shame, discomfort you, and push you. In your case, you should be around more trans women and queer people — and see them not just as sex objects but as people to learn, love, and listen to. 

But I’m not really sure that is what happened, either. Your question doesn’t really state why you had to stop. So I don’t know what the problem was. But I assure you that your penis can do the job, and more to the point, it has to because it’s what you have. Life must be, if nothing else, the journey of learning to love what we are given, including these unique vessels we live in. If your penis is not enough for someone, they’re not a match for you. It will be enough for someone else. You need to find the right people.

The messages in your head can quiet, especially if you replace them with new messages — if you immerse yourself in queer culture, youth culture, rock and roll, techno, kink, wild sex, and basically anything in culture that acts as an antithesis to the Christian beliefs you were raised in. Like learning a new language, you can only learn to reject that toxic religion and the toxic culture it fosters by immersing yourself in a new one. Welcome to the church of butthole. 

Love, Beastly 

Hey there, I have learned so much from your blog! Thank you – Thank You! I will get right to the point, I am obsessed with Thongs. The skimpy underwear, the sexy strap, the wearing something so sexual under my clothes. Just writing this has me hard. I would rather see a man in a thong than naked. Sex in a thong is such a turn-on! My question is that my husband finds my obsession childish and unnecessary. When we have sex he is quick to take my underwear off. The sex is good, but I need plowed while he pulls the thong strap to the side. And I want to eat his ass while he wears a thong, but he is just not into it. Any thoughts on how to get my man to embrace my fascination with thongs?

Babe,

Just as you are free to be into what you are into, so is he. You can’t “get” someone into anything, especially not something they’ve expressly said they’re not into. Which means he may not be a sex partner to use thongs with.

If he’s your only sex partner — if you are unfortunate enough to be monogamous or attempting a monogamous marriage — then you’re SOL (shit out of luck). If that’s the case, you can’t play with thongs. If you’re not monogamous, problem solved! Go play with someone into thongs and leave the sex with your partner as it is (I assume you enjoy it since you keep doing it).

I’ve said this exact thing many times on this blog, but situations like this illustrate clearly the biggest problem with monogamy: it is unfair and unrealistic to expect your partner (or any one person) to complement your sexual tastes and desires in every way. No two people will ever be a perfect match, so there will always be compromises. As long as there are monogamous couples, there will always be someone who has to abandon a thong fetish (or shoe fetish or fisting fetish) for the sake of keeping harmony in their relationship.

And that’s sad. There are a lot of great fetishes out there and we are given only short lives to explore them in. If you’re monogamous, don’t be. Find someone besides your husband to explore thongs and skimpy underwear with. 

Otherwise, throw away your thongs. He won’t use them, you can’t force him, and that’s that. 

That would be an unfortunate trade-off. I love thongs. I love sex in thongs. I love getting railed in thongs. (I love the thongs at Strapp Metal, a clothing brand run by my friends, porn stars Teddy Bryce and Johnny Walker. See their classic thong, pictured above. Teddy does all the original artwork for the sexy clothes and gear.) It’d be a shame to give up thongs, but that’s what monogamy often forces people to do: abandon their kinks and twists to preserve harmony.

Fuck harmony. Be free.

Love, Beastly