I wrote back: I think it's adorable that you told me the vow thing by text- & on a serious note, I rather admire you for challenging yourself & social expectations of masculinity. I can't afford exegesis of my sexual history by text; we can talk about it when you visit- which I hope you do, even if you insist on sleeping on the floor. I promise not to push you- though I confess I'm curious about the vow's limits. But I also understand if you don't feel comfortable coming down. His relief, in our next few exchanges, was palpable. I think a man who wants to abstain has a far trickier journey ahead of him than a woman: America's sexual assumptions may be formed around stereotypical male sexuality -- which really sucks for women -- but it's a very narrow stereotype that limits men too. Men are expected to be insatiable, and preferring not to have sex casts a man's entire masculinity into question. His abstinence can cause anxiety for the female partner, too: after all, given an assumption that men are nigh-indiscriminate sex machines, a woman might feel that there's something terribly wrong with her if a man won't bang her. Mr. Chastity has dealt with those problems a lot, so my careful reaction and evident lack of anxiety won me lots of points. Since then, I've met up with him publicly twice, and we've even managed to make out! He's still going to visit. Maybe I can convince him to sleep in bed, as long as I promise not to put the moves on him. And maybe, just maybe, his vow allows him to practice BDSM... a girl can dream, right? But seriously, if we can do BDSM together, then I just might be his dream partner. I'd be happy to focus our sexual time on BDSM and foreplay, and to ignore "actual" sex indefinitely. Plus, some people argue that declining to sate ourselves sexually is the best tactic for prolonging romantic magic. So this could be the way for Mr. Chastity to become the love of my life. ok In Africa, the mantra for HIV educators is ABC: the three things that