I have a problem. My fiancé may be going to Vancouver for his bachelor party. I've heard that in Canada, a customer can touch the strippers as much as he wants as long as there isn't any "penetration."
I think I'm a pretty relaxed and open-minded girlfriend. I gave my significant other a subscription to Playboy as a gift. I encourage him to watch porn, and I'm OK with him looking at beautiful women. Can't a girl put her foot down and say, "You can look but you can't touch"?
My fiancé argues that the guys are going to be egging him on to touch these strippers. He feels that he won't have much of a choice and, furthermore, that he should be allowed to experience some new breasts anyway. He doesn't see it as cheating.
I feel exactly the opposite. I am extremely uncomfortable with my beloved intimately feeling up another woman! It doesn't matter to me if she's a stripper or a barista. Isn't intimately touching another woman cheating?!
I trust him not to sleep with anybody, but it hurts that he's basically looking forward to this opportunity to feel up other women. This "last night of freedom" line is bullshit. I'm not some mail-order bride he's meeting on his wedding day; we've been together for years! How am I supposed to avoid being completely pissed at him on our wedding day?
I'm with you, sister! Does Mr. Fiancé Man also feel that you should be allowed to experience some new penises while he's rubbing up on new boobies? I'm betting not. Jackass.
As for blaming peer pressure for his actions, please. I assume we're talking about an adult here. What if his buddies really want to buy him a blow job? Where does he draw the line? And what the hell does it matter if his friends tease him for being faithful to his almost-bride? His dick most certainly isn't going to fall off.
Men always pull out the ole "you should go see male strippers" line when confronted with this situation, so be prepared. You and I (and he) both know that there's no comparison. For one thing, the gents in strip shows are usually man-tanned, mulleted, and covered in a thick coating of something shiny-making. These G-string-clad knuckleheads are generally about as sexually appealing as a steroidal Tic Tac.
But that's not really the point. The hurtful thing is his insistence on doing something that he knows is going to make you feel like shit. It doesn't matter if that something is pinching another girl's nipple or smoking in the car with the windows up. He knows it's causing you pain and doesn't seem to much care.
Unless he respects your fairly liberal wishes (you didn't rule out naked ladies, you just understandably don't want him to touch!), I don't see how you're going to avoid spending your wedding day in a snit.
I'm a single white man—sexy, athletic, tall, handsome, professionally employed —but around 80 percent of the women here in the Seattle/Tacoma area have "jungle fever"! I envy the black man!
Every fine-looking blond, tan lady I've encountered here, they all go for the black men. And it's not just the blondes; it's the brunettes, redheads, you name it—they all got jungle fever!
I lived in N.Y.C. and other places, and you don't see it as strong as you do here. It's like the single white females in this area are not proud of their race, so they go out of their race!
What kind of advice do you have for an SWM like myself?
Don't tell me those wily black men are out there snatching up all the fine white women again! Damn it! Next thing you know, they'll be demanding equal pay and the right to vote!
Has it occurred to you that the fine-looking fillies you're hitting on aren't so much averse to dating a white guy as they are disinclined to waste their time with a complete moron? The only advice I can give is that you take a combination vow of celibacy and silence. Really. It's for the best.
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