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Best Sex Writing 2009

Page 6

by Rachel Kramer Bussel


  For Ellie Lumpesse (lumpesse.com), it’s sex all right—and thank goodness, because that’s what she and her committed, live-in boyfriend of three years are openly looking for. She occasionally engages in cybersex with multiple partners on her own, and sometimes the couple has a cyber “threesome.” The techno-poly couple is up front that the status of their relationship is nonmonogamous, but I still wondered how this nouveau poly arrangement negotiated the murky waters of cybersex and infidelity. Lumpesse explains, “Cheating is an interesting question. In my relationship we are incredibly open and honest. We don’t have many rules, so there isn’t much to lie about. Really, the only rule we have is to share what we are feeling and planning. So, for me, infidelity is taking an action or having a feeling that I think my partner would want to know but that I’m not telling him for some reason. I used to say that I ‘don’t do anything I wouldn’t want him sitting next to me while I’m doing,’ but I think that is pretty reductive and too prone to literal interpretation. Instead, any sort of keeping secrets feels like infidelity to me.”

  To Kolmes, this makes a lot of sense; cybersex outside a nonmonogamous relationship is a natural fit. “These kinds of different conceptions of the same sexual acts are not new for poly couples who may have very different feelings about various sensual, emotional, or sexual activities (i.e., the relative intimacy of kissing, versus more genital-specific touching, versus BDSM play, et cetera).” How this might work, Kolmes explains,“Some people may draw the line at cybersex with known people, saying that this would feel like too much of a violation, and that it’s only okay if their partner plays with (presumed) strangers. Others may feel better having clear rules about sharing the logs of the activity. Some may want to watch or supervise. Some may prefer that the cybersex be around particular acts that are less appealing to them (fantasy play or sex acts that the partner may not enjoy as much). Others may feel more comfortable if their partner has cybersex using some other identity (gender role switching, or via a virtual avatar, in a game, or whatever).”

  But there’s being okay with it, and there’s…not. We’ve all read the Cosmo articles about the fiancée who walked in on her almost-husband with his mouse in one hand and his—mouse—in the other, shockingly busting him having cybersex. (Yes, you read it. Continue.) To her this is a transgression, although it’s likely not a clear one; it hurts; she feels jealous, betrayed, lied to, cheated on, and generally wonders if she’s enough for him. But cybersex is layered and sometimes mysterious and complex. Unless he explains what’s going on, it’s tough to determine if it’s healthy fantasy and masturbation (that is, if she’s even okay with that concept), or having an actual sexual—or emotional—affair with another girl. He might have it tucked away in the “it’s not about my real relationship” area of his psyche, but for her it is. The difficulty with cybersex and monogamy, besides explaining sticky keyboards, is knowing when a line’s been crossed.

  How do you know if you’re crossing a cybersex line? Talking about your cybersexuality with your partner is the right thing to do, but yeah, like that’s easy when it’s been an ongoing thing, or you have a fetish you don’t know how (or want) to share. But if you’re monogamous and having cybersex with someone who’s not your partner, you need to know how to tell when the line’s been crossed. Some advise that if it feels like cheating, it likely is. But Kolmes reminds us that it isn’t that cut and dried, helpfully advising what to look for. “Signs that you may be crossing a line would include things like feeling guilty about it or feeling the need to keep it a secret. Or if you find that you’re using cybersex as a safe way to express specific fantasies with someone that you are afraid to share with your relationship partner(s). Complaining about your relationship to the person you’re engaging in cybersex with or using it in some way to devalue your relationship would also be signs that you are crossing boundaries. Canceling out on other face-to-face engagements with people in your life in order to have cybersex could be a bad sign.”

  For better or for worse, there is no restart or reload for relationships; once you find yourself through the looking glass of cybersex and possible (or actual) violation of your relationship’s ToS, it’s time to talk. Kolmes suggests, “If you want to start talking about cybersex after you may have crossed some boundaries, it might be good to start by talking about fantasies and other erotic supplements to your fantasy life (such as pictures, videos, written erotica, toys).” Just talking about sex in general, Kolmes says,“would be a good launching point for acknowledging that there haven’t been conversations about using more interactive media or involving other live people. If these types of conversations feel too intimidating, or they are not going well, it might be useful to consider getting help from a sex-positive therapist who works with people in relationships. It is also important to find a therapist who won’t jump directly to assuming that this is a case of porn addiction or Internet addiction—but to find someone who can help you and your partner communicate more explicitly about fantasy, desires, and about how to talk about these things.”

  However, not everyone is going to be wigged out by a little online canoodling. Some might think it’s kinda hot, or even a new sex toy for the couple to share and add to the buffet of sexual activities the couple already enjoys. For these couples, Lumpesse speaks from experience when it comes to surfing the cybersex seas from within a relationship. “I probably have more than one piece of advice for couples,” she adds. “The obvious one is that nonmonogamy is like anal sex. If you protect yourself, go slow, and communicate a lot, it can be amazing. If you don’t, OUCH! The other thing I would tell people to consider is that jealousy might not be the most important emotion they ever have. I still get jealous all the time; I’ve just learned that it is a fleeting response, and I don’t have to let it dictate my actions and decisions.”

  That said, we’ll see how things go when I take the Virtual Boyfriend for a test drive. If I don’t have any dishes left, I’ll be reshelving my copy of A Brief History of Time with the rest of the erotica.

  Sex Offenders!!

  Kelly Davis

  Most people reading this will remember when there were no public sex-offender registries—no online portals where you can type in your address and find out if a sex offender is living nearby or sign up to receive an email alert when one moves into your neighborhood. A decade ago, there weren’t folks who memorized names and faces and went door-to-door to let their neighbors know that a sex offender had moved in down the street—no one putting up fliers in apartment-building lobbies and laundry rooms.

  No sex-offender registry or neighborhood watch would have kept a babysitter from molesting me when I was six. He was around sixteen or seventeen, the brother of our regular babysitter who filled in whenever his sister was busy. I don’t remember how many times it happened, but I know it was more than once.Years later, I found out that he molested my sister, who was four, and my best friend, who lived across the street.

  At some point I told my mom what happened, but I don’t know what words I used. At six, “penis,” “vagina,” and “sex” weren’t part of my vocabulary. Whatever I said, my mom didn’t believe me—at least that’s what she told me.

  Looking back, I think she knew I was telling the truth, but she just didn’t know how to respond.

  And then I simply forgot that it ever happened—until my first serious relationship in high school, when I had to admit to the guy that, in my mind, the male penis was a diseased, disgusting thing. A year later I ended up in counseling for severe anxiety and depression. There was a box on a questionnaire asking if I’d ever been the victim of sexual abuse, and that opened the door.

  A couple of weeks ago, I threw the babysitter’s name into a national sexual-offender registry.A match came up, but the photo was a guy from Texas who happened to have the same name. I doubt the babysitter went on to become a habitual child molester—statistics suggest that he didn’t. I think it was a case of a sexually confused teen who made a bad decision.
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br />   In nine out of ten sexual assaults, the victim knows the perpetrator. In roughly 35 to 40 percent of those cases, it’s a relative. And if it’s not a relative, it’s Mom’s new boyfriend (one of the more common victim-offender relationships) or, as in my case, a babysitter.

  “The mythology of the dirty old man in the trench coat with the candy lurking around kids at a school yard is misplaced,” says San Diego County Public Defender Marian Gaston.“The vast majority of sex offenders, they don’t look like that…It’s not this easily identifiable group of outsiders who can then be cast away. It’s your sister’s new boyfriend; it’s your stepdad.”

  The term sex offender conjures the kind of monolithic image Gaston refers to—one that’s reinforced by the news media and tough-on-crime politicians, despite evidence to the contrary. Misperception and fear, rather than good empirical research, seem to be what drives sex-offender laws.

  A case in point is a new law that takes effect this week in San Diego.

  The “Child Protection” ordinance, passed unanimously by the City Council in March, is a spin-off of California’s Jessica’s Law, approved by voters in 2006. Among other things, Jessica’s Law created mandatory sentences for sex offenders, requires that certain sex offenders be outfitted with Global Positioning System (GPS) devices for life, and expanded the list of what constitutes a sexual offense. Most controversial are the two-thousand-foot-radius “predatorfree zones” the law established around schools and parks in which sex offenders who are paroled after November 7, 2006, are forbidden to live.

  The law was named after Jessica Lunsford, a nine-year-old Florida girl who was abducted from her home, raped, and killed in 2005 by John Couey, a registered sex offender who lived about one hundred yards from the Lunsfords. Couey abducted Jessica by entering the home at night through an unlocked door.

  Four unnamed plaintiffs—two from San Diego County—are challenging Jessica’s Law before the state Supreme Court, arguing that the law’s residency restrictions are too broad. None of the four’s crimes involved children.

  Despite the court challenge, San Diego went ahead and added more locations to the list of safe zones: city libraries, city parks, amusement parks (SeaWorld, the zoo), video arcades, licensed daycare facilities, and businesses that cater to children, like Chuck E. Cheese.

  Additionally, the San Diego law creates “presence” restrictions that forbid registered sex offenders from being within three hundred feet of any of the above locations. While the city’s enhanced residence restrictions apply only to people who commit a sexual offense after the law takes effect, the three-hundred-foot restriction applies to all registered sex offenders.

  Sgt. Mark Sullivan, who supervises the San Diego Police Department’s Sex Offender Registration Unit, said enforcement of the presence restriction would likely be complaint-driven.

  “We used to get complaints from mothers that would take their kids to the park and say, ‘There’s a weird guy staring at my kids,’ and they’d call the police, the police would show up [and] realize they’re talking to a sex offender,” Sullivan said, “but there was no law that would allow an officer to tell him to leave.”

  Now, under the new city law, the individual could be arrested, he said.

  Unlike Jessica’s Law, which has no defined punishment for anyone who violates the residence restriction (unless the person’s on parole and, in that case, it’s a parole violation), San Diego’s ordinance makes it a misdemeanor criminal offense, punishable by up to six months in jail.

  At the meeting where the City Council voted to implement the law, only one person spoke in opposition. Laura Arnold, a public defender, presented each council member with a ten-page memo that summarized what a number of studies have found: Restricting where a sex offender lives has no influence on whether or not he’ll commit another crime. In fact, Arnold told the City Council, research has found that such restrictions can be counterproductive, pushing sex offenders into low-income communities and rural areas or, worse, onto the street.

  In 2006, the California Coalition Against Sexual Assault, an umbrella group for eighty-four rape crisis centers and sexual-assault prevention programs, issued a strongly worded position statement opposing Jessica’s Law: “Residency restrictions…don’t make communities safer. Residency restrictions don’t reduce recidivism, don’t improve supervision of offenders, and ultimately do not protect children from sex offenders.”

  And, according to a study by the Minnesota Department of Corrections that looked specifically at repeat offenders, it really does come down to relationships and not geography: “What matters with respect to sexual recidivism is not residential proximity, but rather social or relationship proximity.”

  In 2006, the year before Jessica’s Law went into effect, 2,000 sex offenders registered as transient with their local police agencies.According to recent numbers from the state, 3,140 sex offenders have registered as transient—a 63 percent increase in less than two years. In San Diego, roughly 200 of approximately 1,880 registered sex offenders have declared themselves homeless.

  Sex offenders with permanent addresses are required to register annually or when they move, but transient registrants must check in with the police department every thirty days and provide officers with a general idea of where to find them, Sullivan said.

  “They’ve made it very difficult for this population to find housing,” said Steve Kubicek, supervisor of adult parole operations for San Diego County. “With the city, now you’re adding [more locations]. It’s almost as if they’re purging the city of all registrants.”

  Transient registrants, Kubicek pointed out, are more likely to commit other crimes. “We may see an increase in drug use when they go on the streets,” he said.

  “Jessica’s Law was passed hurriedly in an election year,” he added. “And here we are in an election year…. I think [lawmakers’] intent was absolutely valid, but I think [the city law] was passed prior to evaluating the impact of the residency restriction.”

  In Iowa, where a similar two-thousand-foot rule has been in place since 2002, the Iowa County Prosecutors Association and more than three-dozen local governments have demanded that the state’s legislature repeal the residence restriction because of the number of offenders who’ve gone underground. And in Miami-Dade County, a reporter for the weekly Miami New Times discovered roughly thirty men living under a freeway overpass, the only place they could legally reside from ten P.M. to six A.M. or risk violating probation or parole.

  There are other consequences of residency restrictions. Laura Arnold recently had to find a way around the law to get a client into a drug treatment facility that was too close to a school. The client, a former prostitute, is a registered sex offender because she once said,“Show me your dick,” to a vice cop. “Counseling” a person to expose himself is a sex crime.

  Unlike most new laws the City Council enacts, this one got very little discussion; councilmembers talked in general terms about needing to protect children, and Councilmember Ben Hueso talked about how a similar National City ordinance was pushing sex offenders into his district and so the city needed to push back. There was no factual evidence presented to the public as to why the ordinance was needed.

  Not only does the ordinance lack any clear reason for being, but also, as written, it contains wrong information, specifically a portion included in the “whereas” statements that lead off the document:

  “According to a 1998 report by the U.S. Department of Justice, sex offenders are the least likely to be cured and the most likely to re-offend and prey on the most innocent members of our society, and more than two-thirds of victims of rape and sexual assault are under the age of 18, and sex offenders have a higher recidivism rate for their crimes than any other type of violent felon.”

  No such study exists. The information, rather, comes from a talk given by Florence Shapiro, a senator from Texas, at a 1998 conference organized by the Department of Justice. Shapiro was there to discuss Ashley’s L
aw, her overhaul of Texas’s sex-offender rules, prompted by the highly publicized death of Ashley Estell, a seven-year-old who, in 1993, was abducted from a playground and later found strangled. A man named Michael Blair, who’d helped search for the girl, was convicted and sentenced to death for her murder. Though an autopsy found no indication that Ashley had been sexually abused, Shapiro stuck with the story that the girl had been raped, and that’s what she told the audience who gathered for the conference. Blair, twenty-three-years-old at the time of the trial and already a convicted child molester, damned himself by telling the jury that he saw nothing wrong with consensual sex with underage girls. (Blair’s conviction is currently on appeal since repeated DNA tests of physical evidence suggest there were two men involved, neither of them Blair.)

  Because Blair had served a shortened sentence for a child-molestation case, he became Shapiro’s poster sex offender—if he’d remained in prison, she argued, Ashley would still be alive.

  “Sex offenders are a very unique type of criminal,” Shapiro told conference attendees. “I like to say they have three very unique characteristics: they are the least likely to be cured; they are the most likely to re-offend; and they prey on the most innocent members of our society.”

  Those words—attributed to a “U.S. Department of Justice study”—have made their way into various pieces of sex-offender legislation, like Jessica’s Law and San Diego’s new ordinance, even though the DOJ included a disclaimer along with the transcript of the conference, saying the contents “do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the U.S. Department of Justice.”

 

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