One Night, a Woman Blew My Mind in the Bedroom in a Very Specific Way. I’ve Been Trying to Recreate It Ever Since.

How to Do It Photo illustration by Slate. Photos by Getty Images Plus. Our advice columnists have heard it all over the years—so we’re diving into the How to Do It archives to share classic letters with our readers. Have a question? Send it to Stoya and Rich here. (It’s anonymous!) Dear How to Do It, I’m a straight man with a somewhat unusual and awkward kink. There’s absolutely nothing else that a person could possibly do to me that works in the same way, but the kink’s uncommon nature has brought about more than a few inelegant conversations. In a nutshell, I love to be given CPR in the bedroom by my partner. I know that must be quite unusual to read, but I’m 100 percent serious about it, so I think it bears some explaining. All my life, my chest has been my body’s absolute most sensitive erogenous zone. Touch and massage there have always worked wonders in terms of my arousal. As I started becoming sexually active in my late teens, I discovered that good kissing chemistry and technique was also at the top of my list. Shortly after high school, I dated a girl who was in an EMT program, and she decided to play practice CPR on me one night in the bedroom after she had taken a class. It immediately blew my socks off because it connected, more or less, the two things I sexually enjoyed the absolute most. In the years since, it’s grown to be a deeply desired kink of mine, so much so that it’s basically become a deal breaker when potential partners either are averse to it, or become averse to it. To be clear, over the years, I’ve come up with some key differences between my version of CPR and actual “clinical” CPR so as to maintain safety, mostly for my role as the “patient.” The “rescuer“ simply shouldn’t compress that deeply, for one. For two, it helps to be on a surface with some “give,” like a mattress. For three, the “mouth-to-mouth” component usually includes a bit more tongue technique than actual blowing, as opposed to how most people are trained to do it, although gentle breath exchange can be VERY sensual as well. The partner who (hopefully) learns how to harness the energy these activities create in me will assuredly be rewarded with a very exciting, explosive bedroom life. I say all that to get to my dilemma, which is in finding a better way to bring this up with a potential partner. What I ultimately want is “the right” long term partner, but for all of my discoveries over time in regard to which physical CPR techniques work best for me, I have yet to figure out a reliable, non awkward way to initially bring this up. It’s definitely not typical dinner conversation. As with lots of kink enthusiasts, I suppressed this interest for years of my life before I learned to accept that it’s a part of who I am, and as I said, it’s now on the level of a deal breaker for me. I don’t believe in wasting much time with people who are decidedly against it no matter how much sense my explanation makes. I’ve tried putting vague references to it in online dating profiles. I’ve tried the direct approach, just coming out and saying it. And I’ve tried pretty much everything in between. Results have been greatly varied. At best, I’ve had a few eventual partners who weren’t fazed by it, but the problem with that is they weren’t “into” it like me and their interest in fulfilling it for me just faded over time. In the middle are people who consider it silly and don’t take it seriously, even though I’m completely serious about it. At worst, a few girls were weirded out by it and thought it was creepy. Believe it or not, there is a small, somewhat niche but dedicated CPR/resuscitation kink community that exists out in the ether. There can be elements of it come across as creepy and individuals within it that turn out to act like creeps, just as with any other kink, fetish, or otherwise “alternate” bedroom behavior. My own interest in it breaks down to not much more than the physical fulfillment of the desires of my sensitive chest, just in a very specific way. Is there any advice you can give me on this that might be able to help with my dilemma? Is there a “right” way to bring this up? Should I only seek to date medical professionals who have existing CPR knowledge—would that “soften the blow” any when I eventually bring it up? —Resuscitate Me Dear Resuscitate Me, CPR comes with risk of broken ribs and collapsed lungs. I hear that you’ve modified the experience out of concern for your well-being. I’m wondering if you’ve thought through the experiences of the people who you’re asking to engage in this still dangerous activity. Let’s take a moment to imagine their perspective: This person, who they are new to dating, is asking them to do something that could kill him. They want to be accommodating, open, and accepting. But they’re aware that this activity has a risk of serious ramifications. I think the safety question is crucial here. A New York City Health and Hospitals worker I spoke with on the phone hung up on me, so I feel you on the difficulty involved with discussing this particular kink, but I was able to get in touch with Shane Woodall, president of Frontline Health, an emergency training school who has been teaching CPR for 23 years. “The things that he’s trying to mitigate it with—the mattress surface, not pushing as hard, and all of that—well, a person is doing this,” he told me. “Perhaps in the heat of the moment, the person may push a little too hard and you may end up with a fractured sternum, or a fractured rib. You may actually crack a rib and have that cause internal injuries to the person’s organs as well.” Woodall left me with a warning: “definitely not going to recommend this as a practice anyone should do.” A nurse acquaintance of mine also pointed out that you could still disrupt the rhythm of your heart. I get that this is your kink, so I’m not expecting complete compliance with best practices here no matter how much I’d prefer it, but I hope this reminds you of the stakes here—not just for you but for the other person involved. I agree with your instinct to seek out medical professionals as romantic mates—they have more of an ability to evaluate what you’re asking them to do. Keep in mind that they’re more than their qualifications, treat them as humans first, and please prioritize your health and safety. —Jessica Stoya From: My Unusual Kink May Kill Me—but the Real Problem Is Finding Someone to Do It. (February 10th, 2021). Please keep questions short (<150 words), and don’t submit the same question to multiple columns. We are unable to edit or remove questions after publication. Use pseudonyms to maintain anonymity. Your submission may be used in other Slate advice columns and may be edited for publication. Dear How to Do It, My husband of several years has a pretty intense celebrity crush on an actress with a distinctive look. He’s open with me about it, and I also find this woman beautiful and interesting, so it’s seemed like a harmless crush until recently. From past (slightly awkward, but open) conversations, I already knew he prefers porn featuring women who resemble this celebrity. I respect his privacy and his right to get off on what he wants—and hey, I watch porn too and have my favorites—but I admit being jealous over his focus on this one woman. I haven’t shared my feelings of jealousy because I don’t want to make him feel bad about something I’m ultimately fine with. However, recently he shared with me that he’s also sought out deepfake porn that appears to feature this celebrity. I didn’t react much in the moment, but it’s been seriously gnawing at me. To me this is a huge ethical violation, because this woman obviously didn’t consent to these being made. Frankly, I also find it really creepy and obsessive on his part, and it bothers me in a way that the lookalike porn doesn’t. I’m struggling with more intense jealousy and a loss of respect for my husband. I don’t know how to talk to him about this, or if I even should. I don’t want to risk shaming him, and I worry that telling him that deepfake porn bothers me will just make it more alluring. How do I deal with this, individually and with him? —Creeped-Out Wife Dear Creep Wife, I’ve had quite the month of oblivious dudes taking advantage of me or violating my consent, excusing each other, and even pointing their finger in my face while demanding a picture after they’ve already been told “no.” So you should know, I’m running pretty hot already, and PMS week has just commenced. Your husband committed an act of viewership that you—rightly so—consider an ethical violation. Not just for the celebrity in question, but for the performers who’ve had their heads removed, too. If your husband has to feel a little shame over his inappropriate use of nonconsensual sexual material, well, that’s the cost. Shame, in my understanding, has a function of encouraging social norms—like the “not forcing someone into the position of porn performer without their consent” norm, which is a pretty great one in my opinion. I think the first step is for you to decide whether you want to stay with a partner who engages in viewership of media you find abhorrent. Can you continue to respect him? That’s pretty crucial to a healthy relationship. If you can, and do, a serious, blunt talk might be your next step. “I strongly disagree with this deepfakes stuff, and want you to know how I see it,” followed by your perspective. His response will be telling. He might be reactive at first, and need a few days to process and understand his feelings and thoughts. But if your husband is such a child that telling him something bothers you will make it more appealing, I think it’s time to leave. —J.S. From: My Husband’s Sexual Fixation on His Favorite Actress Has Taken an Alarming Turn. (July 13th, 2021). Dear How to Do It, My husband and I have been married for over 30 years. Our four children are finishing high school or are in college. My husband has always allowed me freedom to be me, although he is also extremely arrogant and dismissive and has made a variety of bad financial and personal decisions. Our sex life was always good, and I was the dutiful wife and mother in every aspect until almost 11 years ago. Attempts at couples counseling only revealed my blunt anger for him and his passive-aggressive behaviors. Our family moved, and my husband was admittedly distant and “checked out.” I met a man in a similar situation. Our kids are the same age, and we dealt with so many parallels. I had never been unfaithful or even thought about it. Our affair has lasted over time and great distance. We haven’t lived in the same area for over eight years and see each other only on rare occasions. Our intimacy is of the highest level, and our sex life is always hot. We want to finish raising our children and then be together. We are no spring chickens, and I feel the clock ticking to be happy with the person I feel most comfortable with in this world. My husband and I have not had sex in over six years. Are my lover and I being completely selfish? Will the wake of destruction to our (almost all) grown children, spouses, and extended family be worth the personal happiness? We feel that our kids would not be surprised if we left our marriages. I do know the grass is not always greener on the other side. We are truly best friends, ready to throw all caution to the wind. We are both very strong and able to accept consequences and risks. —Ready for a Second Life Dear Second Life, You’ve already been having the affair for over a decade. You’re already being selfish and continuing in a disingenuous relationship that you’ve emotionally moved on from out of avoidance of upheaval in your family. Your kids might already know, or have suspicions, that their parents’ marriage is unraveling. But divorce happens. Plenty of people have divorced parents and manage to live happy lives; establish healthy, trusting relationships; and generally succeed. There’s a chance that your children—and other people in your life—will be upset with you. There’s also a likelihood that you can repair those relationships over time. I cannot answer your question of whether it’ll be “worth the personal happiness”—that’s for you to weigh and decide. Would you want to leave even if your lover weren’t in the picture? What if he chooses not to leave his marriage after all? You’ve survived long distance, disagreements, and disappointments, but you haven’t experienced monotony or seen each other every single day for weeks, months, or years. Intimacy is about deep emotional sharing, and sometimes a euphemism for sex, but is also about hours logged. You say you’re both very strong and able to accept consequences, but you seem to fear what you describe as a “wake of destruction.” Upheaval is the likely consequence. Can you accept it? —J.S. From: I’ve Been Having an Affair for a Decade. Am I Being Selfish? (March 23rd, 2021). More Sex Advice From Slate About 15 years ago when I was in my early 20s, I dated a woman who I’d known previously as an acquaintance. We were never that serious, but we did have sex multiple times over the course of a few months. Looking back on this, I am mostly embarrassed by my lack of ability to be a decent sexual partner. Never miss new Slate Advice columns Get the latest from Prudie and our columnists in your inbox each weekday, plus special bonus letters on Saturdays. Advice Dating and Relationships Sex