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Wake me when it's over: Advice from a sleep-deprived columnist 

I am a 23-year-old woman living with my 25-year-old boyfriend. We have been dating for a little over a year, and for the majority of that time we had a great sex life. Unfortunately, when we decided to move in together, we also decided to stop having intercourse until we decide to get married. We made this choice with a couple factors in mind: (1) lots of pressure from religious parents who urged us not to engage in premarital sex, and (2) we aren't ready to risk having a kid.

We are not engaged yet because we want to live together for a while to make sure we both want a lifelong commitment. Our relationship is still thriving, and if we do get married, we already know that we are sexually compatible. The problem is that every time he instigates a session of fooling around in nonintercourse ways (which we still do) I am not turned on. I know whatever we do is not going to end in sex. He has no idea I'm not interested because I focus all my attention on getting him off. I enjoy that, but I know he would love to pleasure me as well. What do you suggest?

No Sex For Us

I've written columns stoned, I've written columns hammered, and I've written columns on prescription medications -- not necessarily prescribed to me -- that impaired my ability to operate heavy machinery and, you know, my laptop is so old that it probably qualifies as heavy machinery. But I've never written a column after three straight nights of brain-killing insomnia.

So welcome to a very special, sleep-deprived episode of Savage Love, and I apologize in advance if the advice you're about to receive is suckier than the stoned, hammered, heavily-medicated crap that made this column great.

OK, NSFU, I've got a few suggestions.

First, grow the fuck up. You guys are 23 and 25, not 13 and 15, which means you get to make up your own minds about premarital sex. Seeing as you two were engaging in premarital sex before you moved in together, it's a whole lot of ridiculous to cave to the delicate sensibilities of your religious parents now. After all, kids, the same vengeful, sex-obsessed, entirely fictitious God who disapproves of premarital sex also disapproves of any and all "nonintercourse ways" of getting your boyfriend off. Spilling his seed is a sin, too, NSFU, whether you're helping him spill on the ground or on your tonsils.

Second, birth control works. If you're not willing to assume the teeny, tiny risk of getting pregnant now that you're living together, NSFU, why were you willing to risk it when you hardly knew each other? Take the pill, use condoms, and if you really want to be paranoid about it, have the boyfriend pull his condom-wrapped cock out of your nonovulating twat after you've come but before he does, which will reduce your risk of an unplanned pregnancy to so close to zero that zero will feel like it's being stalked. Or something.

Finally, open your mouth. This arrangement -- no vaginal intercourse for discontented you, plenty of oral and handjobs for thoroughly contented him -- works for the boyfriend, NSFU, but it's making you miserable. Tell him you want to renegotiate terms. You stop worrying about what your parents think and stop inflating your fear of pregnancy and get back to your old intercoursin' ways -- which you don't have to tell the parents about -- or he's going to have to buy a strap-on dildo and fuck you with that before you'll even think about touching his dick again.

My girlfriend and I haven't had anything resembling sex in months. But anytime I bring it up, she says she doesn't like to discuss it and that she'd rather "surprise" me with it. That apparently feels more natural, and the mere discussion of sex is a dead turnoff.

What The Fuck?

Whatever the fuck is going on here, WTF, and whatever the fuck I tell you to do, I'll get shitloads of mail -- all from readers with no more information to work with than I have -- explaining how this is all your fault. Because, you see, you're the man and whenever a couple's sex life goes off the rails, it is always the man's fault. (That's what makes gay relationships so egalitarian.) But for what it's worth, here's my advice: "Surprise" her by moving out.

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