DIRTY LOLA tells it as it is - about pleasure, kink, consent & everything in between
How do you find someone for threesomes?
A great place to start is your own life. Do you have any friends you already do sexy things with who might be up for it? If that’s not an option, try a dating app that leans toward hookups and adventurous encounters, like Feeld. Be clear in your profile about what you’re looking for — say you’re interested in threesomes and that kind of play. It’s a solid way to meet like-minded folks.
Outside of that, you’ve got to actually go where those people are — events, play parties, spaces where open-minded folks gather. If you’re not putting yourself out there, you’re probably not going to find anyone. Sadly, it’s not like the old days of Craigslist personals (RIP), where you could just post an ad and wait.
And really, you need to think about your qualifications. When it comes to threesomes, the biggest thing is vibe. You’ll only know that once the three of you sit down and talk. See how you mesh, what each person wants, and where everyone’s boundaries are — what’s on the table, what’s not, how you feel about barriers, all that.
In the end, it’s about putting yourself in situations where the right people can find you — whether that’s a party, an app, or a conversation with friends. You’re not going to pluck the perfect threesome partner out of thin air. You gotta do a little work to make the magic happen.
One of you is into BDSM and the other is not — what should we do?
I’ve been in this situation personally, and I just want to say — there is a way to navigate it, but it can get tricky.
First off, do your homework. Don’t dive straight into physical kink play unless it’s something you can safely explore solo. Start by asking, What can I do by myself?
Read books. Go to classes. Check out events. Look for a community.
If you haven’t already, take a peek at FetLife — it’s basically kinky Facebook. You can make a profile, search events by your zip code, and join message boards. It’s a great digital entry point that can help you find an in-person community later.
Begin with things that let you learn, watch, and experience without needing a play partner. That’s a great way to get your feet wet and build confidence.
And through all of this, keep your partner in the loop. Let them know what you’re learning and exploring — if they want to know, of course. Even if they’re not interested in participating, hopefully they’ll still want to understand what’s exciting or meaningful to you as you grow and learn.
The next step is talking to your partner about trying non-sexual play. A lot of kink isn’t sexual at all — for me personally, I actually separate my kink from sex. I can get plenty of my kinks scratched without it ever turning sexual.
So, if your partner’s open to it, maybe you can explore some kind of play that doesn’t involve sex — like impact play. That’s things like paddling, flogging, or being spanked. If that interests you, you might find someone in your community — maybe at a class or an event — who can safely do that kind of play with you, if your partner is okay with it.
You’ll need to keep up open communication the whole time. Keep letting your partner know what you want to explore and how it’s feeling for both of you. But before you bring another person into it, do as much exploring on your own as possible. Learn, watch, ask questions, and start finding community. That gives you both time to figure out how you want to move through this together.
It is possible, but it’s going to start to look a bit like a form of non-monogamy. Even without sex, you’re still bringing another person into the dynamic. Kink involves trust, vulnerability, and a physical connection — and that’s still a kind of intimacy.
So even if it’s not sex or love, it’s a connection. And that’s something you and your partner will need to talk through and define for yourselves.
I wish you luck as you figure it out — you’ve got this.
What to do with emotionally unavailable men when sex is great?
We add them to the roster. And if that’s not your ministry, you’ve gotta let them go.
For me, if someone’s emotionally unavailable and we’re only connecting sexually, that’s what it is — a sexual connection. They’re there for play, not emotional fulfillment. I don’t expect more from them than what they’re offering.
That said, you can always demand respect. They need to respect your time and your body. If they don’t? Kick them to the curb.
If you’re cool with seeing them just for sexual fun now and then, enjoy it. That doesn’t stop you from looking for partners who are more emotionally available. That’s the beauty of dating — you can spend time with one or several people until you decide to commit.
We’re not here to change people or train men to be emotionally available. We’re here to have fun, make sure we’re respected, and keep it consensual.
And that’s that. Good luck.

How do I overcome the fear of having sex with new partners? And how do I start talking about kinks with them?
These are two different questions, but they ultimately boil down to one thing: effective communication.
Sitting down and having proactive, honest conversations with anyone you plan to get physical with can make a world of difference. Talk about what you both like — kinks, turn-ons, types of touch. Ask what feels good for them and share what feels good for you. Those conversations can go a long way toward easing nerves and building trust.
If your concern is sexual health, make sure you’re both tested before having sex — and compare notes. You have every right to ask for that. If they refuse, they’re not your person. Use barriers and protection that make you feel safe and comfortable.
If your concern is physical safety, establish protocols before meeting anyone new. I have a group chat with friends who get the person’s full name, photo, where we’re going, and how long I’ll be there. I check in with them during my dates, especially if plans change. They also get the person’s number, car make, and plate — all of it. The person I’m meeting knows this, and if they’ve got a problem with it, that’s a red flag.
I also share my location with a few trusted friends, so they can always check in on me. For extra peace of mind, I carry my Esoes, a safety device disguised as lip gloss that connects to an app, which can alert a friend or the authorities if needed. I also bring drink testing strips. These tools give me confidence and a sense of calm when meeting new people.
If you’re simply not sure about sharing your body yet, take your time. You don’t have to rush and have sex on the first date. If someone pressures you to move faster than your comfort zone, they’re not the right person.
When it comes to kink, I love a Yes/No/Maybe list. You can find free ones online, it’s a fun way to explore together. “Yes” means you’re into it, “maybe” means you might try it, and “no” is a hard pass. Fill them out, swap them, and discuss your answers. Make it playful, grab a drink, laugh, get curious. Bex Talks Sex even has a customizable worksheet version that’s lovely for deeper exploration.
No matter what, prioritize your safety, your comfort, and your joy. Be safe out there — and have fun.
How can I overcome the fear of closeness in both sexual and casual relationships?
Short answer — therapy.
I know that’s probably not what you wanted to hear. Maybe you were hoping for a magic fix or a checklist, but the truth is, I can’t give you a specific answer because I don’t know why you fear closeness. Are you avoidant? What’s your attachment style? What experiences shaped that fear? Those are deep, personal questions — and the best person to help you unpack them is a therapist.
There are so many ways to do therapy these days — online, through apps, in person, and even text-based options. You can literally take this exact question to a therapist and say, “I’m having trouble with closeness — emotionally and sexually — and I don’t understand why. I want to work on that.”
They’ll help you explore what’s underneath, identify patterns, and give you tools to start healing and rebuilding trust — with yourself first, and then with others.
It’s brave work, but it’s worth it.