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I’m a queer girl living with a male partner. This weekend, we found ourselves in an after-hours club, made some new friends, and ended up at a house with two other guys and a girl. Things were pretty playful with everyone except for one of the guys. We all wanted him gone, but he wouldn’t take the hint. He bought the booze for the after-party, so we were a little unsure of the etiquette of asking him to leave. Neither I nor the other girl was interested. I made it clear that penetration was off the menu for me, and everyone respected this—except the one guy. He asked if I would do anal, and I refused. He shoved his fingers in my ass, and I stopped him. I positioned myself away from him, but he somehow got behind me again and put his bare dick in my ass—though barely. The host pulled him off me. We were admittedly all a bit fucked up from partying. I had a stern talk with him about respecting consent—but when I felt his dick enter me from behind a second time, I got upset. My boyfriend threatened him, and the guy punched my boyfriend and broke my sweetheart’s nose. The host threw the guy out with no pants, so he had a well-deserved walk of shame. We don’t know the guy’s last name, so we can’t charge him. My question is this: As a couple, we enjoy threesomes/moresomes/swingers clubs, etc., and this wasn’t the first time a fun night was ruined by a persistent dick monster. Do you have any suggestions for dealing with pricks like these? Sober and not horny me has all the answers, but when I’m feeling violated and vulnerable, and distracted by whatever dick/pussy is in my face, I’m not the loudmouthed feminist bitch I usually am. We all agree he should have been kicked out before the offenses added up. Maybe he should have been kicked out when we all agreed we weren’t comfortable with him playing with us. What’s the etiquette of telling someone they can’t join in? I’m done dancing around assholes’ feelings.
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“Persistent dick monster” (PDM) is putting it mildly, QUEEN. This guy sexually assaulted you and physically assaulted your boyfriend—that guy is a VSP (violent sexual predator), not a PDM. And even if you don’t know his last name, report the night’s events to the police. It’s possible this asshole is already known to the cops—hell, it’s possible he assaulted someone else on his pantsless way home and they’re already holding him and they’d be happy to add more charges to the ones this asshole is already facing.

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I’m not saying you have to report him, of course. It’s estimated that only 15 to 35 percent of all sexual assaults are reported to the police, and only 9 percent of all accused rapists are prosecuted. While recognizing some folks have legitimate reasons for not going to the cops, we need to get those numbers up—because unreported rapes and sexual assaults can’t be prosecuted.

As for preventing a PDM/VSP from ruining your future threesomes/moresomes, etc., advance planning—and familiarity among participants—is the best way to ensure a good experience. Spontaneous can be fun, but it’s difficult to pull off safely with groups—spontaneous fun can be difficult to pull off safely in pairs. Another lesson to be learned from this encounter: Getting shitfaced/shtoned/shwasted may not be the best plan. It’s often the worst plan—getting fucked up rarely results in good sex, even between people who fuck on the regular. Plus, it’s easier to ignore red flags/gut feelings when you can barely shee shtraight. Having to remind someone about consent is a major red flag, QUEEN, and one we’re likelier to overlook when we’re shwasted. In a situation where you’re receiving unwanted touches, your polite dismissal of them should be enough. If this reminder has to be repeated twice, that participant should have their pass to moresome mountain revoked immediately.

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Two final takeaways: Even kind and decent people can be terrible about taking hints—especially when doing so means getting cut out of a drunken fuckfest. So don’t hint, tell. There’s no rule of etiquette that can paper over the discomfort and awkwardness of that moment, so your group’s designated speaker-upper will just have to power through it. And if you’re going to drink and group in the future, QUEEN, hew to a strict BYOB policy. You don’t ever want to be in a position where you hesitate to show someone the door because they brought the booze.

My wife and I are newlyweds. My wife wants sex two to three times a week, which matches up perfectly with my desires. But her desire for sex peaks around 3 to 5 a.m. She’s a morning person with insomnia, and I’m a night owl and a heavy sleeper. She’s tried to wake me up for sex, and my unconscious self has rejected her multiple times (I never remember this). When I do wake up, the half-conscious romps we have aren’t really satisfying. My sexual desire peaks midday and after work when I have more energy to have sex or come up with a fun bondage scene. But when she gets home, she usually has a series of chores or projects that take up all her attention.
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Your wife needs to save chores and projects for 3 to 5 a.m.—provided no power tools are involved—and reserve the early evening hours for romps and creative bondage scenes.

My husband and I have been together for six years and are quite happy, much to the chagrin of his family. They are Islamophobic, antichoice, Fox News-watching, conservative Catholics. They began writing us letters about how they disapproved of us when we moved in together before marriage. One launched a campaign to break us up because they figured my then-boyfriend didn’t know I was bisexual. (He did, and I’m out very publicly.) They boycotted our wedding because it was not in a Catholic church. They would not come to a party we had because a Muslim friend would be there. They’ve realized that in order for us to even rarely see them, they need to cool it, but they don’t think they have anything to apologize for. After Trump’s election (#ITMFA), I’ve found it difficult to stomach them even in small doses. I grew up Catholic myself and was sent through gay conversion therapy, so I have a visceral reaction to this kind of bigotry, especially when it is directed toward my family of choice. My husband is also appalled by them and always puts us first, but the idea of not retaining a connection to his family of origin hurts him. Do I suffer the occasional visit? Help!
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For the sake of your marriage, SHUTOUT, you should suffer the occasional visit—whether your husband sees his family on his own or you’re along for the ride—without punishing your husband for it. Remember: You’re in this together, and private jokes, surreptitious eye-rolls, and pot lozenges can go a long way toward making these events not just bearable but (mischievously) pleasurable. And seeing as you’ve already trained his family to cool it by cutting back on your time with them—a strategy I recommend—you can train them to keep things civil, hate-free, and non-biphobic by warning them in advance that you will get up and leave if they say anything shitty or unkind to you, about you, or in front of you. Then follow through.

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Dick monsters