I Want to Bring Friends Into My Sex Life… Without Looking Like a Creep

How to Do It is Slate’s sex advice column. Have a question? Send it to Stoya and Rich here. It’s anonymous!

Dear How to Do It,

For a couple of years now, I (cis-woman) have been interested in exploring group sex with my partner (cis-man, we’ve been together for 13 years). He and I have nurtured many kinks together, but always within our monogamous relationship. Since getting my partner’s buy-in, I have been doing a lot of research (including through this column), downloading apps, and trying to learn what swinger culture is like. However, we have been shy about pinging other couples on Feeld or going to a munch in person, mostly due to insecurity and fear of rejection. While he is interested, game, and supportive, this is my fantasy and I am the more invested of the two of us in pushing it forward.

Honestly, my fantasy is more about cultivating friends-with-benefits relationships with other couples we are already at ease with. I am attracted to several couples in our circle. The talk can sometimes turn flirtatious but not in a way that would make me feel comfortable broaching the subject seriously (for example, someone in the group will make a foursome joke but while having a shared playdate with our kids… so hardly an actual proposition… I think?). We also have more than one friend who has shared stories about how they “accidentally” ended up at a swingers party and were shocked, presented as a funny anecdote. Were they feeling us out? Were they genuinely telling a story they thought was gross and outlandish? I feel like a teenager again sometimes overanalyzing these interactions (which admittedly is also fun).The closest conversation I have had with someone who was actually open about group sex is with one colleague who mentioned being at a party where other couples were swapping partners.

I suppose my questions are: Is there a way to slowly start proposing exploration with couple friends without seeming predatory, or should we suck it up and get on the apps already, fear of rejection be damned? Or is there a way to ask my colleague about his experiences? My partner and I wouldn’t be against connecting with him and his partner in that way, if they were interested. I am ready to move things to the next level in our exploration but am not sure what to do!

—Stuck in Lifestyle Limbo

Dear Stuck in Lifestyle Limbo,

Rejection is part of the pursuit of sex. Everyone, everyone, EVERYONE faces rejection at one point or another. Some more than others, sure, and it always sucks to some degree but it’s part of the game. You have to figure out a way to be OK with the idea that someone may say no when you express interest. It could be as easy as telling yourself (repeatedly if needed) that you miss every shot you don’t take. If you really want to see movement here, you’re going to have to move. No one is going to open up your relationship. No one is going to throw a gangbang for you. Luckily, though, an app like Feeld minimizes the rejection factor by only allowing you to interact with someone whose profile you’ve hearted if and when they express mutual interest. So you don’t see people rejecting you. Of course, the ensuing chat can go nowhere or you could send pictures to zero response. It’s not that it circumvents rejection entirely, but the app’s format softens blows.

In any event, it may be useful for you and your partner to be rejected a few times; you’ll see that you get over it quickly and live to pursue another trick. It’s not so bad!

Also, if you want to get sexual with your friends, you should get more sexual with your friends. Make those foursome jokes yourself. When someone recalls stumbling into a swingers party, respond by saying you’re jealous. Keep it light, and approach with humor. Find ways to bring up sex in conversation. I find that when I meet a stranger I’m still sniffing out, when the topic turns to sex and stays there, it’s confirmation that we’re both (or all) into each other and want to proceed to the next step (dicks out). So if you can engage people on this topic and embody your horniness, your message may convey. I don’t think you need to worry about being “predatory.” You’re hanging with adults, who, from the sound of it, don’t obfuscate their sexuality. Things turn dark when people are unable to take hints that the other person (or people) isn’t interested. Or even worse: continuing to try it when they’ve been flat-out turned down. Don’t do that. You can be respectful and horny.

As for the colleague, just revisit the discussion with him. Tell him you’ve been thinking about your conversation and would like to know more about that party. Again, set yourself up for the opportunity to express interest and see if he bites. I think you’re already in a good place—you’re interested in group play but you haven’t yet taken the leap to pursue it. You’ve been patient. Hold onto that patience. It will keep you from coming off as too thirsty (a turn-off for many) and allow you to withstand what could be a slow (but ultimately rewarding) process. Tell yourself you’ll be fine and then live it.

Dear How to Do It,

Is there anything similar to the book Mating In Captivity in terms of practical advice that’s not so dated and pretentious? I love my spouse and know I need to get more space to be interested in sex but I couldn’t get through this book. I want it to help me and I want to want to have sex with her. But I didn’t live in Manhattan in 2003—I was barely alive then! Is there anything aimed at a more contemporary audience?

—Hopeful

Dear Hopeful,

Hey! This column is a Mating in Captivity slander-free zone! That book is a modern classic for a reason. However, of course there are other books. Another one we recommend in these parts is Emily Nagoski’s Come As You Are, which actually may be more helpful given your immediate concerns, as it’s very much about desire. It’s more about individual sexuality, whereas Mating in Captivity is about couples’ sex lives, but of course, one’s desire does affect one’s partner, particularly in a monogamous setting. Come As You Are certainly does deal with interest in sex and the way said interest can differ from person to person (for example, there are people who experience spontaneous desire and there are those whose desire presents as responsive, and sometimes people more on one side will experience the other).

There’s also Dr. Stephen Snyder’s Love Worth Making: How to Have Ridiculously Great Sex in a Long-Lasting Relationship, which I’ve been meaning to read forever but haven’t yet. Both are more current—Love Worth Making was published in 2018, nearly 10 years after Ester Perel published Mating in Captivity, and Come As You Are hit shelves in 2021. So one of them might have the modern take you’re looking for. Give it a try.

Help us keep giving the advice you crave every week. Sign up for Slate Plus now.

Dear How to Do It,

I’m a cis woman (44) who’s been with my husband (cis man, also 44) for 17 years. I was sexually assaulted as a teenager, and for years, I coped by drinking before sex—including during the first 10 years of my marriage. Our sex life was good! I consider my consent for everything we did to be unequivocal and enthusiastic. A few drinks took the edge off enough for me to enjoy myself. Our sex life went along just fine through kids. Then I discovered I had to have a surgery that put me in instant menopause in my mid-30s. And THEN I realized my drinking was a problem, and I quit (four years sober!). Through some combination of hormonal changes, a personal realization about trauma, and the return of my anxiety around sex without the numbing effects of alcohol, we’ve had some bumps in the road.

Our biggest sticking point is that, like everyone, there are some things I just don’t like. Take oral sex. I do not like receiving it. I never have, not from any of my several dozen partners before marriage. I suspect I never will. My husband loves giving oral sex. He’ll ask from time to time—he never pressures me, and he always quickly accepts no as my answer. But if I said to him, right now, “I’m not into it, but sure, go ahead,” he’d bust a kneecap getting down there. He says it’s that he wants to make me feel good, but he’d be super turned on despite me not even pretending I’m enjoying myself.

I want to clearly state that I do not consider this a consent issue. These are choices I make for a variety of reasons. But I’m baffled by this and, if I’m honest, it makes me think less of him, kind of hurts my feelings, and makes me feel icky. Why would my husband, who loves me, be excited to do something to me that he KNOWS I don’t enjoy? How can that be arousing?? If I turned the tables, I could not force myself to do something to him that I knew he didn’t like. I’d be horrified by the thought of making him uncomfortable. Can you help me understand this? Is it a product of my past? Do most people generally not mind having stuff done to them that they don’t actively enjoy? Is it just part of partnered sex, and I’m being rigid and ungenerous? (I’m not the most giving person, so I freely admit this is possible.) Help!

—Maybe It’s Me

Dear Maybe It’s Me,

You aren’t being rigid and ungenerous. You like what you like, and you have been clear about this. I’m less certain of the sturdiness of your interpretation of your husband’s enthusiasm. Your read is certainly plausible, but the optimist in me has a few other points you may want to think about that may make this, at minimum, easier to swallow (even though it’s been established that no eating will take place).

I wonder if your husband circling back to ask if you’d be interested in receiving oral sex isn’t just wishful thinking on his part. He might just be hoping that you come back around. This isn’t to excuse him—he’s been told no, and that’s his cue to stop asking—but he seems to be having a difficult time internalizing the fact that this one love of his will go unpracticed as long as you two are together. It’s possible that he does want to make you feel good and believes if you just try out his mouth, you’ll get into it. His persistence isn’t particularly empathetic, but that does not mean it’s malicious.

Also, there are definitely people who seem to perform oral more for them than the person they’re performing it on. In my experience, that yields bad head, and I’m someone who likes getting it.

I’m curious as to whether your perception that he’d “bust a kneecap” to eat you out is based on assumptions or if he actually said that. Has he stated, “I’d be super turned on despite you not even pretending you’re enjoying yourself,” or is that just what you’ve gleaned from his enthusiasm? If it’s the latter, it’s unfair to hold your projections against him, and again, he might just be hoping that you find a way to love what he loves. However, at this point, he should know not to ask. A bit of firmness could be useful here: “Never gonna happen, and it’s actually bothering me that you keep asking because you don’t seem to care about my experience.”

Congrats on quitting drinking, btw!

—Rich

More Advice From Slate

I (18, FTM) have been dating my boyfriend (25, M) for a few months now, but we’ve been good friends for much longer. The relationship has been great, and we both discuss our comfort levels when needed. However, ever since I’ve known him, he has expressed interest or joked semi-seriously about starting sex work, be it through physically, or cam work, depending on the joke or comment.