Q: I am a 20-year-old woman, and I make love with a man twice my age. He is brilliant, handsome and fantastic in bed. We are very much in love. Though we seem incredibly compatible, I believe he is cunnilingus crazed. Though I have wonderful orgasms and almost always reach them this way (I rarely orgasm otherwise), he seems to always want to incorporate this act one way or another when making love. Whether from the front or back, my man is voracious. Though he is certainly skilled, I just don’t feel it should necessarily occur every time we make love. (I must stress we have a lively and varied sex life.) When I am in a “dirty” mood, it is appropriate. When I am in the mood for a romantic evening, however, it doesn’t always feel right. He really enjoys me, and felt a bit slighted and confused when I brought this up. Is it just me, or is it possible to get too much of a good thing?

A: One of the first things you learn when you get one of these sexpert gigs is that it’s important to always tailor your advice to the individual client. That’s why I tend to let the raunch fly a bit more when I’m giving guidance to a member of the BDSM crowd; it’s why I keep a musical-theater handbook nearby when I’m fielding a question from a gay guy (sometimes Sondheim can get through to people far better than I); and it’s why I’m going to go the prim and proper route with you, who managed to use some variation of the slightly gag-inducing phrase make love three times and no variation of the word fuck during the course of your letter. So to answer the question of whether it’s possible to get too much of a good thing, I’m going to cite a little lesson I learned years ago at a Buddhist lecture. The issue at hand, as it always is with the Buddhists, was happiness. The guy giving the lecture pointed out that a good test to see whether something can bring you true (emphasis on true) happiness is to ask yourself: Is this something I would want to do nonstop for the rest of my life? Obviously, the point was that none of the earthly things we think of as bringing us joy (meaning anything from shoveling in chocolate ice cream and living in a tricked-out mansion to performing—or receiving—cunnilingus) could pass that test. So yes, there is such a thing as “too much of a good thing.” But I have to admit, I’m a little bit troubled by your categorization of cunnilingus as something you’re into when you’re in a “dirty” mood. It sounds to me like you have a bit of pussy shame you need to get over. The fact that your boyfriend wants to eat you out is extremely romantic, and you shouldn’t diminish his efforts in that regard. That said, shame or no shame it is your pussy, and if it wants to be left alone, he’s got to respect that decision as well.

Q: I have a question about oral sex—specifically blow jobs. I’m a straight guy in his late twenties, and I hooked up with a girl a couple weeks ago who absolutely refused to give me head unless I put on a condom. To be honest, I never thought I’d be faced with such a ridiculous request. I’m all for bagging it during intercourse (for obvious reasons), but what’s the point of getting a blow job if you can barely feel anything through the latex? Long story short, I actually declined the blow job and ate her out instead. (Which she was fine with—even though there was no latex between my tongue and her clit—double standard, anyone?) So here’s my series of questions: Do a lot of people actually get blow jobs this way? Is it even worth the bother? And am I an asshole for dealing with the situation the way I did?

A: You’re young, so you may not have fully thought this through yet, but if there’s one eternal truism about sex it’s this: Sex is a series of negotiations. Every time you end up in bed with someone you’ll have to navigate different boundaries and desires. It’s hard for me to fault the girl you were with for protecting herself from getting STDs from some guy she barely knows. (I’m sure you’re perfectly virus-free, but how was she to know that?) At the same time, I’m with you about the futility of getting sucked with a condom on. In my opinion, it would be far better to completely forego the oral until you know someone better than to offer up bad oral. Speaking of which, I don’t think you acted like an asshole at all—you found a way to make the sex fun for both of you without compromising your own personal vision of what constitutes hot sex. Of course, I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out that there’s another eternal truism about sex: Whenever you do anything unprotected, you’re taking a risk of contracting something. Obviously, some risks are worse than others, and you can’t live a full life without taking some risks now and again, but don’t let your condom aversion lead you into more dangerous territory.

Boy, oh boy, am I glad I asked you guys to send in your hot summer sex stories. I’ve got enough free wankworthy material to last me through next winter. (Don’t worry; I’ll donate the money I save on porn to the sexually needy.) I recommend you grab some ice cubes, sit yourself in front of the AC and start fanning your loins as you read this scorcher submitted by a frisky young lady.

My boyfriend and I were at a party held in a downstairs lounge. We were familiar with everyone in the crowd, as a friend was hosting it. Having not seen each other for a week, we were both hot for one another. The throbbing beat of the music was making us groove and sway into each other. As the night progressed, we found a small room that was tucked away from the dance floor. I have no idea what was in the room, since it was pitch-black. At that moment, we both knew what we wanted to do. With the music blaring and friends mingling outside, our hands hurriedly groped around for each other in the dark. I felt my way around for his zipper and immediately started sucking him. I turned away from him, and he started rubbing me. My panties were down around my ankles by now. All I could see was blackness and all I could hear was the pounding of the music outside the thin, unlocked door. As my boyfriend started to fuck me from behind with his hands on my hips, I could feel his hot breath against my ear as he said, “Scream as loud as you want—nobody’s gonna hear you.” And that’s exactly what I did. We emerged from the dark room to again blend with the crowd, as if nothing had happened. I sometimes wonder if anyone else was in that room with us.

Send letters to Jamie Bufalino c/o Time Out New York, 475 Tenth Avenue, 12th floor, New York, NY 10018, or send e-mail to sex@timeoutny.com. Find more “Get Naked” online at timeoutnewyork.com, or check out “Sex on the Street” with Jamie Bufalino at timeoutnewyork.tv.