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Savage Love 

Hey, Faggot: I need your help fast! I am going overseas to visit my lover, whom I have not seen for four months. We are deeply in love, and when we get together we are going to hump like bunnies! The problem is that, for a variety of reasons too complicated to go into, we are unable to use any real effective birth control. Pills are out, condoms prove excruciatingly painful, and she is not in a location where a diaphragm or -- heaven forbid -- an IUD is a possibility.

Originally I thought we would be satisfied with mutual oral gratification, intense foreplay, some experimentation, and maybe even a little backdoor action. But I started having powerful fantasies about filling up my lover in the way only intercourse can. She's been having these dreams, too. Which is riskier, my being in her early on and bringing her to orgasm fairly quickly and then retreating; or her going down on me, bringing me off, and then my entering her while still stiff and wiped clean? Any other suggestions?

Fearing Ecstasy
P.S. She is more than willing to take the risk. She has been tracking her ovulation to see when we can best avoid high fertility, etc.

Hey, FE: Since your girlfriend is someplace she can't get her twat on a diaphragm or -- heaven forbid -- an IUD, it's safe to assume she's also someplace that lacks a good, safe abortion service provider. Which is unfortunate, since she could very well be pregnant by the time you get back on that plane. (Overseas, is she? Peace Corps somewhere? A convent in Ireland? Stationed in Kuwait?)

Look, I can't grant you absolution. You rule out every birth control method known to man, and then want some reassurance that the variations on the rhythm method you lay out above are gonna save your ass. Well, as the son of practicing Catholics who had four kids in 3 1/2 years, I can tell you, just as sure as I am sitting here typing this, that the rhythm method don't work too well. Neither does pulling out, putting it in "just a little," or any of the other ignorant/adolescent/Catholic approaches to population control.

But what I'd like to know, Mr. Stupid, is what exactly is so "excruciatingly painful" about the condoms you're using? They're not those special condoms, are they? The ones dusted with a fine layer of ground glass? Now that smarts! Otherwise, I can't think of what would make a condom "excruciatingly painful," besides improper usage, or an easily correctable lack of lubrication.

Hey, Faggot: I am a 22-year-old female in love with another female who happens to be my best friend. We were in a relationship about a year ago and she hurt me by leaving me for another female. I am still in love with her and now she wants me back, and I don't know what to do. My body and my heart say, "Hell yeah!" but my mind says, "Hey, think about it." What do you think?


Hey, JC: Your body, your heart, and your sex advice columnist all think the same thing: Hell yeah, take her back. At 22, you can afford to give your crotch (body + heart = crotch) the benefit of the doubt.

Hey, Faggot: I am a 32-year-old heterosexual male, and I have a bondage fetish. I enjoy being bound and gagged in the nude. I have never had a partner who liked or shared my love of bondage, and as a result I have had to explore the joys of this fetish by myself. I was wondering if there were any bondage clubs or organizations in Chicago that you might have heard of where I could meet other people who also like bondage?

Bondage Lover

Hey, BL: They're not strictly a bondage club, but you should check out the Chicagoland Discussion Group. For "adults over the age of 21 interested in safe, sane and consensual S/M, B/D, D/S, and leather fetish activities," CDG hosts workshops (CDG University), play parties, and publishes a quarterly newsletter stuffed with personal ads. Call CDG's 24-hour info line (1-312-281-1097) for more info. If you're too scared to call, you can write CDG at 3023 N. Clark St. #806, Chicago, IL 60657-5205.

Hey, Faggot: Oh, so the little gay guy thinks we women shouldn't call our genitals "insipid" things like "yoni" or "Cupid's cave" [Aug. 21]. Well, let me tell you something: You guys have been giving your sexual equipment names for years, cool macho names like "willie," "boner," "wang," "dong," "dingus," "pocket rocket," ad nauseam.

On the other hand, women's body parts have been named by you, collectively. Women were not supposed to talk about it, and certainly not supposed to make up names for it. But that's all changed now. If the sister wants to call her twat "yoni," "muffin," or "the taco of love," she's entitled. So back off.

This isn't some homosexual cuntophobic thing, is it?
Peach Lips

Hey, PL: 1) Little gay guy? I'm 6 feet 1 inch and weigh 180 pounds, lady. I'm a lot of things, but wee isn't one of them.

2) What I objected to wasn't the naming itself, but the "sacred sex" mumbo jumbo the original writer employed to describe her taco of love: "I think of my yoni as a sanctuary of creative feminine powers, Cupid's cave, and a lotus of her wisdom." I don't know about you, but I've always believed, perhaps foolishly, that a woman's creative powers were between her ears, not her legs. When a woman ascribes to her pussy all the powers I associate with a woman's brain, it makes me cringe. And, ironically enough, women who would kick a man's ass for reducing them to what's between their legs are usually the very same women who'll happily reduce themselves to what's between their legs.

3) If you were in bed with a guy who described his cock as "the lightning rod of his creative powers, Zeus' thunderbolt, and the log of his wisdom," wouldn't you find him just a bit insipid? Conceited? Annoying? Full of shit? I would.

4) As for cuntophobia, I happily admit to suffering from that pernicious affliction. Hide one of those Hustler magazine centerfold roadkill close-ups under my pillow, and I won't sleep for a week. But I agree that women should be free to call their twats whatever they care to. (I'm content to call them from afar, long distance, collect, etc.)

Confidential to Dickless: Five inches ain't all that, but it ain't no gunshot wound either. Big dicks, like thin women, get all the good press, but plenty of people like little dicks, and, likewise, plenty of people dig fat chicks. Your mission is to find one of the former. For support, get in touch with Small Etc., an organization for the "small-endowed or short in stature man." Small Etc. publishes the Small Gazette which, in addition to general interest stories, features loads of contact ads -- from small people, and people who like small people. Really, Dickless, your "problem" is a point in your favor in enough people's eyes that you don't have to be alone. Write to: Small Etc., PO Box 610294, Bayside, NY 11361. And before anyone bites my head off, Dickless here signed his letter "Dickless." I didn't slap that label on him.


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  • Nevada City and the South Yuba River: A gold country getaway

    Nestled in the green pine-covered hills of the Northern Sierra Nevada is the Gold Rush town of Nevada City. Beautiful Victorian houses line the streets, keeping the old-time charm alive, and a vibrant downtown is home to world-class art, theater and music. The nearby South Yuba River State Park is known for its emerald swimming holes during the summer and radiant leaf colors during autumn. These days the gold panning is more for tourists than prospectors, but the gold miner spirit is still in the air.

    South Yuba River State Park and Swimming Holes:
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    Downtown Nevada City
    The welcoming, walkable downtown of Nevada City is laid back, yet full of life. Start your day at the cozy South Pine Cafe (110 S Pine St.) with a lobster benedict or a spicy Jamaican tofu scramble. Then stroll the streets and stop into the shop Kitkitdizzi (423 Broad St.) for handcrafted goods unique to the region, vintage wears and local art “all with California gold rush swagger,” as stated by owners Carrie Hawthorne and Kira Westly. Surrounded by Gold Rush history, modern gold jewelry is made from locally found nuggets and is found at Utopian Stone Custom Jewelers (301 Broad St.). For a coffee shop with Victorian charm try The Curly Wolf (217 Broad St.), an espresso house and music venue with German pastries and light fare. A perfect way to cool down during the hot summer months can be found at Treats (110 York St.) , an artisan ice cream shop with flavors like pear ginger sorbet or vegan chai coconut. Nightlife is aplenty with music halls, alehouses or dive bars like the Mine Shaft Saloon (222 Broad St.).

    The Willo Steakhouse (16898 State Hwy 49, Nevada City)
    Along Highway 49, just west of Nevada City, is The Willo, a classic roadhouse and bar where you’re welcomed by the smell of steak and a dining room full of locals. In 1947 a Quonset hut (a semi-cylindrical building) was purchased from the US Army and transported to its current location, and opened as a bar, which became popular with lumberjacks and miners. The bar was passed down through the decades and a covered structure was added to enlarge the bar and create a dining area. The original Quonset beams are still visible in the bar and current owners Mike Byrne and Nancy Wilson keep the roadhouse tradition going with carefully aged New York steaks and house made ingredients. Pair your steak or fish with a local wine, such as the Rough and Ready Red, or bring your own for a small corkage fee. Check the website for specials, such as rib-eye on Fridays.

    Outside Inn (575 E Broad St.)
    A 16-room motel a short walk from downtown, each room features a unique décor, such as the Paddlers’ Suite or the Wildflower Room. A friendly staff and an office full of information about local trails, swimming and biking gets you started on your outdoor exploration. Amenities include an outdoor shower, a summer swimming pool and picnic tables and barbeques. Don’t miss the free vegetable cart just outside the motel in the mornings.

    Written and photographed by Beth LaBerge for the SF Weekly.

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