While in college, I didn’t have the strongest boundaries when it came to boyfriends and was pressured sometimes—against my better judgment—to not use condoms for a variety of lame college-boy excuses. I ended up having a couple of STD scares and endured uncomfortable side effects from the pill (as well as the $25 monthly charge). Then I had a wonderful fling with a man in his early 40s who kept a variety of condoms in all shapes and flavors by his bed. He was a fantastic lover, by far the best I’d had at that point. He believed that using condoms was a good way to show respect for his partner.

The first thing about the campsite rule is remembering that you are almost certainly not going to spend the rest of your life at this “campsite.” So don’t pressure your younger partner to say, “I love you”; to move near you or in with you; to meet your parents or let you come meet hers; etc. Treat the relationship as precious but temporary.

She did nothing wrong, really: Once she got over the initial rush and reality set in, she talked with me about her issues with the age difference, which included the fact that her conservative family could never accept her having a partner who was so much younger. She tried several times to warn me that the affair was time-limited, but I was too starry-eyed and, what’s more, lacked enough life experience to understand WHY it wouldn’t work.

Now I’m 10 years older/wiser, and I do understand why it wouldn’t have worked; as she told me, I needed to have the chance to have my own life, and had we stayed together, she would have been a senior citizen at the point where I would be having my midlife crisis. The memories are great, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything, but I think OLD and anyone else who hooks up with much younger partners needs to be aware that lack of life experience will make young partners more susceptible to fantasizing about a future together that may or may not be feasible or well-advised, no matter how honest and considerate the older partner is.

Was Todd GGG, kind and caring? No, no and no. For starters, he unexpectedly whipped his cock out as I sat in a chair in his apartment on our first date. At 18, I didn’t have the strength of character to just walk out the door. He didn’t volunteer to wear a condom, and because I felt insecure, I didn’t demand that he wear one. We kept seeing each other, and it never got any better. He would wake me up by poking me with his erection. He mauled my clit while trying to finger me and refused to cut his nails when I told him that he was scratching my labia. Any request I made during sex was met with sulking and hostility. It was hard enough, as an insecure teenager, to ask for what I wanted, and his attitude killed any notions of sexual assertiveness I might have had.

I’ve got a whole slew of stories about this asshole, but I’ll leave you with this: During all this bullshit that he was pulling on me, he was ALSO demanding that we incorporate his cross-dressing and desire to be pegged into our sex life! I wasn’t enthusiastic about either of these things, but at least I tried. He wouldn’t even trim his fucking nails.