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Living In Sin: Newlywed and Underlaid

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Sex is something that drives us, empowers us and gets us into really stupid situations with people we have no business seeing naked. Jen Sincero is the bestselling author and sexpert with the carnal knowledge you need. Ask her your questions (all are posted anonymously). Cuz there's no such thing as being too good in bed.

Dear Jen,
I am a 21 year-old male who lost his virginity to the girl who is now my wife at 19. I want sex 24/7 just like when we first met, but now everything seems to have switched. We only have sex like once a week and it's always the same thing where she gets her way, always missionary and no position change. We used to be so open sexually - we experimented with anything and everything. I have only slept with her and still feel I have so much experimenting to do, meanwhile I’m the 8th person she’s been with so I feel like she is finishing her sexual career and I'm barely starting.

What can I do to jumpstart things? How can I help her open back up? Is it something I'm just completely missing? Anything that can help me reclaim my sex life would be a great help because now I find myself masturbating 3 or 4 times daily and it sometimes affects my work. Thank you for any help. – Cut Off at the Starting Line

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Dear Cut,
When you get to be a certain age, a terrible, terrible thing is going to happen to you. You are going to wake up one day to discover that all your friends, all those fun, spontaneous people who were always game for hikes, concerts, dinner parties, trips to India, hours of pant-wetting laughter, deep discussions, creative projects and brilliant brainstorming sessions have disappeared. They have wandered off into the abyss of new parenthood.

They have traded in precious time with dear sweet you for those things with giant wobbly heads. They’re now focused on those projectile vomiters who roll their freaky, unfocussed eyes at you and envelop you in vague gazes that speak of their fresh arrival from (and, no doubt, partial residence still on) “the other side.” For me, it’s not terribly appealing. Babies are extremely wiggly. Some are born with lips that have enough sucking power to deflate even the oldest and strongest of friendships. And all of them have soft spots on their heads where their fragile baby brains lay unprotected. Squich squich. If that’s not fully creepy, I don’t know what is. I don’t care how cute their feet are.

Yet whenever my married friends tell me their big news, I’m genuinely excited for them. Because what more could you ask for than to see the people you love get what they want? But my excitement for them is much the same as the excitement I feel when I hear someone excellent and nearby is moving to another country, or has fallen madly, obsessively in love or has started going to AA – it’s fabulous for them, it’s back to the drawingboard for me.

Because I don’t want children, and because the haves and the have nots tend to live lives that only cross paths at the occasional farmers market, I have tried to talk some of my most treasured friends out of reproducing. And I have yet to succeed. I have also failed at talking my neighbor into trading in his surfboard for paddle tennis with me and was ignored by my mother year after year when I suggested that she get us a horse instead of a dog.