Happy Spanksgiving – The Stranger


I’m gay and go to a small liberal arts school. I have a crush on this one guy, but he brought up — unprompted — that he’s Aro/Ace. I really like him. We have great conversations in a lab we have together, and I think he’s super attractive. But every time I’ve tried to extend our friendship outside of the lab by suggesting we study together or go see a movie we both want to see, he seems closed off to the idea. I don’t know what to do. I can just be sad about it, I guess. Or is there a chance he might be attracted to me? I think he enjoys talking to me. And I definitely enjoy being around him.

Anxiously Ruminating On A Crushing Experience

Quick definition of terms: Someone who’s aromantic (Aro) doesn’t experience romantic attraction. While some aromantic people want partners — or want a partnership and are willing to tolerate/simulate romance to get one — others don’t want a partner. It’s a (sigh) spectrum. Someone who’s asexual (Ace) doesn’t experience sexual attraction but might be down to fuck. It’s (sigh) a spectrum. Now, lots of things exist along spectra, including (big sigh) sexual orientation — the famous Kinsey Scale represents a spectrum — but the asexual spectrum is so broad as to be meaningless, running the gamut from sex-repulsed asexuals (disgusted by the thought of sex, don’t want to have sex, don’t want to be reminded that other people do) to asexual sluts (don’t experience sexual attraction, fucks for other reasons, and fucks a ton).

Basically, we live in an era — or we’re living through the tail end of an era — when words mean whatever we want them to mean, people are allowed to use whatever words they like or invent new ones, no one is ever bullshitting themselves or anyone else, and only gatekeepers get gatekept.

All that said, AROACE, it’s highly unlikely your lab partner brought up his Aro/Ace status unprompted. You may not have told him you find him attractive — you may not have said those words to him — but it sounds like there were tells: the way you look at him, the way you lit up when he spoke to you, the way you asked him out on what were essentially dates. Aro/Ace boys may not experience romantic or sexual attraction, but they’re not dense — they can tell when someone is interested in them romantically or sexually — and this boy knows you’re into him. Which is fine! You’re allowed to find hot guys hot! And you’re allowed to ask hot guys out! But you have to take “no” for an answer, AROACE, whether the “no” is explicit or implicit. And when this boy brought up his Aro/Ace identities, he was letting you know the answer is “no.” Think of it as a variation on, “It’s not you, it’s me,” something people say when they’re trying to let someone they like down easy.

And even if this boy is the kind of aromantic person who wants to have a partner, AROACE, and even if he lives at the slutty end of the asexual spectrum, the fact that he brought the Aro/Ace thing up the way he did is a good indication that he doesn’t see you as a potential partner… if he’s even interested in having a partner, romantic and/or sexual, which he may not be.

So, sad it is, AROACE, but hopefully not sad for long.

P.S. If you’re interested in being his friend, AROACE, you could say this to him: “I asked you to study alone together sometime or go see a movie because I’m attracted to you. But I understand that only a friendship is possible here, since you’re Aro/Ace, which I totally get and completely respect. I’m happy to hang out as friends, if you’re interested in being friends outside of class. If not — not yet or not ever — no hard feelings, and I promise not to be weird.”


Gay cis guy in a small town, mid-40s and between relationships at the moment. I’ve been developing what might be a kink and wonder about it. I go to a gym in town with a nice weight room. Most guys using it are younger than me and a high percentage (like 90%) wear headphones or earbuds when lifting and are lost in their own auditory worlds. I have my own earbuds in. One day last month my ear buds ran out of juice. I realized that the guys lifting couldn’t hear themselves, and some of them were making really loud and hot noises — moaning, grunting, panting and so forth as they were lifting. I don’t think they know how loud they are or what they sound like. One guy in particular doing squats has a pattern of working up to louder and louder noises and ending in an almost orgasmic grunt/moan combo on his last lift in a set. I’ve been getting into listening to all these sounds and reacting to the point that I’m wearing a sturdy jock on weight days to avoid any, um, visible reactions.

Anyway, it’s a small town and I’m careful not to ogle the cute guys in the gym or in the shower (well maybe a quick glance). But secretly listening to the lifters as they grunt and moan in the weight room has become an obsession. It’s done wonders for my weight routine but seems creepy, even though I’m looking at the wall and not at them, and they have no idea I’m getting off on their sounds. I’ve thought about recording on my iPhone to jerk off to later but haven’t. (Too creepy!) Is this harassment or abuse? Should I stop and tune back into the Black Keys at high volume on my earbuds to drown out these hot grunts and moans? And is there a name for this kink of mine?

Making Orgasmic Auditory Noises

That kink of yours has a name: auralism. That’s when certain sounds — like listening to hot guys at the gym moan, grunt, pant, etc. — can get you going or even (in rare cases) get you off.

So long as you’re not visibly aroused, MOAN, and so long as you’re not staring at guys and/or making them aware that you’re aroused, your behavior — your leering ears — exists on the spectrum of “permissible secret perving.” We are allowed to take private pleasure, even sexual pleasure, from the random stimuli we encounter as we move through the world, so long as we don’t disturb or upset others. So, just as discreetly enjoying the eye candy has always been one of the perks of going to the gym, discreetly enjoying the ear candy doesn’t constitute harassment or abuse.

Quick digression: On the most recent episode of After-Action Report — my new podcast — I spoke with a woman who has a sneeze fetish. She’s allowed to leave the house during cold-and-flu season to enjoy the sights and sounds of hot strangers sneezing in airports and grocery stores! So long as she isn’t visibly aroused — so long as she can wait until she gets home to buzz one out — there’s nothing wrong with the pleasure she takes from random strangers sneezing in front of her. Same standard applies to you, MOAN: so long as you aren’t doing anything that makes other people uncomfortable — and other people are the ultimate judge of that — you’re allowed to enjoy the moans, groans, and grunts of the men at your gym.

Making a recording while you’re at the gym, however, falls into an ethical and legal gray zone. Depending on where you live, MOAN, recording a conversation without the consent of both/all parties is a crime. (But do grunts and moans count? You’d have to ask a lawyer.) And even if making audio recordings in a public place is legal where you live, it feels more invasive than simply listening. That said, everyone is recording everything everywhere now — especially at the gym — and for frankly worse reasons. The world is full of pranksters, influencers, and Karens making and uploading videos in the hopes of going viral at someone else’s expense. Quietly capturing a few seconds of “room sound” at the gym for your own private enjoyment later seems less problematic — it seems far less abusive — than posting a video to your Instagram of someone’s bad form to mock them or uploading the worst moment in someone else’s life to your socials to boost your follower count.


Dear Readers: Thanksgiving is on Thursday — here’s hoping everyone has a nice one — and I wanted to mark the holiday by sharing this classic Thanksgiving-related question from the archives. Happy holidays! — Dan

Something is bothering me, Dan, and I don’t know where else to turn. I’m a bisexual man. I’ve been married to a great guy for the past six years. Despite COVID, we gathered safely for an outdoor Thanksgiving dinner with my family. My mom, my brother and sister-in-law, and my adult nieces and nephews and their partners were there. Each household contributed to the feast, and we had a wonderful evening. While my husband and I were snuggling in bed later he said that my casserole was a big hit thanks to the “secret ingredient.” When I asked what he meant, he informed me that he had deposited my cum from a blowjob he’d given me earlier that day into my half-finished casserole. When I asked why he did this, he said he thought it was hot and he was aroused watching my family ingest it. To me, this seems a bit twisted and feels like a deeply disrespectful act toward my family. Now I cannot sleep, and it is impossible for me to think of anything else. I wish he had never told me.

Confused And Shuddering Sleeplessly, Entirely Revolted Over Loaded Entrée

Some questions you suspect are fake, some questions you know are fake, and some questions you hope are fake. I wish this question fell into the second category — a question I knew to be fake — but I once got a letter from a man who would excuse himself at dinner parties, quickly rub one out in the bathroom, and then dip the bristles of his hosts’ toothbrushes in his semen. (That was twenty years ago, and I’m still securing my toothbrush in a secret, undisclosed location when we have guests.) So as much as I wished we lived in a world where something like this could never happen, CASSEROLE, we don’t live in that world.

That said… some details don’t add up.

I’ve been on the receiving end of plenty of blowjobs, CASSEROLE, and there’s always a tell when a guy doesn’t immediately swallow. A man who’s holding your load in his mouth has a certain look; his mouth and jaw are set in a particular and revealing way. There’s also no post-blowjob kissing or snuggling. And if you were to say, “Thank you, that was great,” and they hummed back, “Mmm-hmm,” instead of saying, “You’re welcome,” you would know the guy didn’t swallow. But you would have us believe your husband somehow gave you a blowjob and somehow didn’t swallow and you somehow didn’t notice and then… did what exactly? Strolled around the house with a mouth full of cum until the opportunity to defile your casserole presented itself?

Then again…

Impromptu blowjobs sometimes happen, CASSEROLE, and they sometimes happen in kitchens. So, I suppose it’s possible your husband interrupted you while you were making a casserole and then spat your load into the casserole and managed to give it a quick stir… without you noticing the spit or the stir? Sounds improbable. But your husband could have created a diversion — a post-blowjob diversion — that took your attention away from your casserole long enough to execute this spit-and-stir maneuver. But even if he did all of this — blew you, didn’t swallow, created a diversion, spat your semen into your Thanksgiving casserole — would he tell you about it? The guy who was glazing at his friend’s toothbrushes didn’t brag to his friends about it. He wrote to me about it, described it as a compulsion, and asked for advice about stopping. That your husband would be so clueless as to think you wouldn’t be revolted by this is, if you’ll forgive me, a little hard to swallow.

Still…

If your nieces and nephews are adults… it’s possible you and your husband are getting up there… and he could be suffering from early-onset dementia; inappropriate sexual behavior and poor impulse control are symptoms.

So, on the off, off, off chance this actually happened, CASSEROLE, here’s my advice: If your husband spat your load into a half-finished casserole and then watched your whole family consume it and then assumed you would think it was hot and isn’t suffering from dementia, CASSEROLE, then you absolutely, positively need to divorce him. Let us count the ways you can’t trust this man: you can’t trust him with your semen, you can’t trust him not to feed your cum to your mother, you can’t trust him around your siblings and nieces and nephews. You can’t even leave him in the company of an unaccompanied casserole. So, unless you looked into his eyes on your wedding day and thought, “This is a guy who would feed a woman her own son’s semen and I’m fine with that,” your husband isn’t the guy — great or otherwise — you thought he was when you married him. He’s a monster and what he did was unforgivable, even criminal. Divorce the asshole.

P.S. Some will urge you to go to the police and press charges for sexual assault — those casserole leftovers may contain DNA evidence — but you’ll have to weigh involving the police against burdening your mother with the knowledge of your Thanksgiving casserole’s secret ingredient.

P.P.S. A casserole is really more of a side dish at Thanksgiving, isn’t it?

Dan Again: This question originally ran on December 8, 2020, and I think I speak for everyone when I say, “Hey, CASSEROLE! If you’re real and if you’re reading this, we would love to an update. Are you still married to this guy? If so, have you ever let him blow you again? Is he even allowed in the kitchen? We wanna know!”

P.S. How can readers know for sure I don’t write the letters that appear in the column? Because if I wrote the letters, I would write updates.


Got problems? Yes, you do! Email your question for the column to [email protected]!

Or record your question for the Savage Lovecast at savage.love/askdan!

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