Sex guides that focus on particular “moves” have entertained me for years. I read them like they’re porn, and in a way, they are. “Swirl your tongue in circles around the clit.” “Stroke the G-spot firmly with two fingers until you feel it swelling.” “Lick the frenulum while cupping the balls.” They’re so vivid and visceral, they conjure up images with almost as much immediacy as porn. So I’d be lying if I said I’ve never jerked off to an article with a clickbait-y title like “10 Easy Tricks For Getting Her Off” or “Blow His Mind With These Foolproof Blowjob Moves.”
But, also like (mainstream) porn, these guides don’t teach you much about how to have actually good sex with actual humans. They try to pin sex down, like it’s a recipe or a location on a map, without acknowledging how variable and fluid it can be in reality.
One of the things that struck me most about Ian Kerner’s classic oral sex bible She Comes First is that it’s absolutely chock full of “moves.” He groups these manoeuvres together into what he calls “routines,” which are broken down into “stages”; he offers estimates on the proper amount of time to spend on each. One such section advises, for example, “Alternate vertical strokes of the tongue with horizontal strokes. On vertical strokes, try to just graze bottom of the clitoral head without fully hitting it. Focus on brushing the head on horizontal strokes. For every five vertical, do one horizontal.” Seeing a problem here?
These “routines” are a great starting point for someone who’s never eaten pussy before and has no idea how to begin, but to treat them as gospel is to miss the point of sex entirely. So much of good sex is about paying attention to your partner’s body and their responses and adjusting your approach accordingly. This give-and-take, back-and-forth interplay is the intimacy, the connection, the dynamism, the fun of good sex. Without it, you might as well be fucking a robot or a computer: input x and you’ll get y.
One of the most popular and well-known “sex moves” is the one where you lick the letters of the alphabet on someone’s clit, starting with A and working your way through to Z. However, used properly, this technique is really more about gathering information than it is about getting someone off. By licking the alphabet, you’ll be trying out a wide variety of different types of tongue strokes – different directions, placements, and lengths – and so you’ll learn a lot, very quickly, about how your partner likes their clit touched. At least, you will if you’re paying attention, rather than trying to remember what letter comes next!
So, if “moves” aren’t important, what is? I think the answer is sex skills. Someone who knows a few recipes will effectively only be able to make those recipes, whereas someone who’s picked up culinary skills will be able to improvise a meal with basically any ingredients you throw at them. That’s how sex should be approached, I think: great sexual partners are not just great at the things they do but also great in the way they do them.
Some of the most important sexual skills are reading a partner’s body, taking feedback well, communicating your needs without being overly critical, and learning and remembering what particular partners like. There are also more physically-based skills, like staying in rhythm, fingerbanging with precision, taking a dick deep in your throat, and relaxing your muscles to take penetration. But I think the mental ones are more important, because once you have those, you’re much better equipped to work on everything else. You’ll have your partner(s) moaning your name – and you’ll know it’s because of you, not some guide you read on the internet.
Do you have any favorite “sex moves”? What do you think are the most vital sexual skills?
This post was sponsored. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.
