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10 Tips For Incredible Kisses

Kate Sloan

You know, for the amount of kissing I do, I really haven’t written very much about it here! It’s often taken as self-explanatory, which I don’t think is strictly fair. All of us had to learn to kiss, in some sense, even if parts of this act came naturally to us. So here are 10 tips I think are worth considering, whether you’re smooching a new beau or a well-established partner…

1. Take good care of your lips

Boys, especially, often don’t know to do this, or don’t bother. But lip texture matters! If you can’t bring yourself to use a lip exfoliant (Lush makes some, or you can make your own by mixing sugar and honey or coconut oil), just give your wet lips a scrubdown with your also-wet toothbrush next time you brush your teeth. Follow up with a moisturizing lip balm – something natural, containing ingredients like coconut oil or shea butter, will work better than more synthetically-based options.

2. Have mints and/or gum on hand

Keep ’em in your bag or your pocket. Regularly restocking this stash is just as important as keeping your condom reserves topped up. Treat it as such!

3. Get consent

The debate about the necessity of clear consent rages on, especially when it comes to kissing, which often isn’t viewed as “intense enough” to warrant asking for permission. Here’s my stance: nonverbal consent is certainly a thing, and if you’re well-attuned to your partner then you may well be equipped to kiss them out of the blue without incident, but “Can I kiss you?” or “I really wanna kiss you right now” are still hot and cute even when you know for sure you’re gonna get a “yes.” You’re not going to “ruin the moment” by making sure your partner is comfortable and amenable, trust me.

4. Use less tongue than you think you should

So-called French kissing isn’t as mysterious or confusing as it once seemed to me… The trick is to use your tongue as punctuation, not the whole sentence; as seasoning, not the whole meal. As Dan Beirne once wrote: “I would recommend thinking of the kiss as a sleep and your tongue as the dream. It’s not right away, and it doesn’t last the whole time.”

5. Vary your rhythm

Kissing shouldn’t be like a metronome; your speed and intensity should vary according to the needs of the moment. Pay attention to what your partner is doing and how they’re reacting, and mix up your rhythm accordingly. Some moments call for slow sensuality, while others are better suited to fast, hard passion!

6. “Yes, and”

The improv-based practice of “yes-and”-ing is simply the process of paying attention to what your partner is doing, matching it, and adding onto it. To give a more concrete example: if they lick your lip a little, you could lick theirs a little harder. If they pull you closer, you could tilt them into a deeper kiss. If they press their body against yours, you could grind your thigh against their bits. This is not to say that you should only ever follow your partner’s lead – I’m sure you have some great ideas of your own – but launching a new move out of nowhere is often not as effective as simply building upon what’s been done already.

7. Give an oral sex preview

If you’re doing the kind of kissing that you think could lead to sex – whether immediately or eventually – then you can rev up your partner’s arousal by showing them what else your lips and tongue can do. You could, for example, flick your tongue over their lower lip in a cunnilingus-esque manner, or gently suck on it the way you’re going to suck their cock later. They’ll get the message!

8. Convey passion with your hands

Good kisses don’t just involve your lips, but your whole body. This includes your hands, which shouldn’t just be floating there. Provided you have consent for such things, feel free to let them roam over your partner’s hair, neck, shoulders, back, waist, hips, boobs, and/or thighs. This makes your kisses into a bigger, deeper experience than they would be if your mouth was the only body part at play.

9. Use your words

This one may not work so well if you’re super shy – but even if that’s the case, sometimes it’s worthwhile to push through and do it anyway! Try peppering little phrases, confessions, and observations in between your kisses, if it feels right. “Your lips are so soft.” “You taste amazing.” “You’re really good at that.” “I love kissing you.” These sentiments are small but they can make a big difference in your partner’s confidence and comfort.

10. Your thighs can do amazing things

I wax evangelical about “the thigh-grind” in every medium, and this blog is no different… Your thigh is a nice, firm, broad surface that can feel oh-so-good when pressed up against the genitals of someone who wants that. This move is an easy and hot way to turn up the heat during a kiss, and it can be carried out just as well whether you’re in bed, on the floor, in an elevator or in an alley.

What are your favorite tips ‘n’ tricks for kissing?

 

This post was sponsored. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.

Why Sex Skills Are More Important Than “Sex Moves”

Kate Sloan

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.

5 Things Sex Toy Educators Should Never Do

Kate Sloan

I’ve been educating folks about sex toys for the better part of a decade, and as such, I’ve developed strong opinions about what people in my industry should and shouldn’t do. It’s a delicate line of work, one in which you constantly run the risk of fucking someone up (or fucking up their sex life, at the very least), so it’s important to be thoughtful about how you approach it. Here are 5 things I think sex toy educators should never, ever do…

Make assumptions

You might think you know the sexual orientation, genital configuration, or relationship style of someone who comes to you for advice, but unless they explicitly tell you, you don’t actually know any of that stuff. So don’t assume you do!

The best way to avoid making assumptions is to ask questions – though, of course, you have to “read the room” to figure out which questions are okay to ask. For example, if someone who appears to be a cis man asks me for help choosing a toy for masturbation, I might ask, “Do you mean a stroker, an anal toy, or something else?” Or if someone says they want a toy they can use with their partner, I might ask, “What kinds of toys does your partner like/want?” rather than assuming the person is straight or their partner is cis. I’ll also tend to avoid using gendered pronouns until the person I’m talking to does. You can really put someone off sex toys by making shitty assumptions, so how ’bout let’s not do that!

Recommend toys that will cause harm

We know that toys made of jelly, for example, leach phthalates and cause internal irritation for many people who use them, not to mention potentially worse side effects like endocrine disruption. It would be a bad move to suggest someone buy or use one of these toys, at least without heavily educating them on the risks they’d be taking on by doing so.

Of course, the reality of sex toy retail is that some people cannot afford or do not want to buy fancier toys that are body-safe, in which case our job as educators is to steer them in the right direction while also meeting them where they’re at. Hard plastic vibrators are usually body-safe and cheap, for example, and if someone wants a squishy toy without a silicone-level price tag, they might be content with a porous (not toxic) dildo that they use with a new condom every time to keep bacteria out. A partial solution is better than none at all.

Perpetuate oppressive beliefs

It’s bullshit that all men have higher sex drives than all women; that all women have vaginas and all men have penises; that there are only two genders; that buying a sex toy makes someone pathetic or lonely; that masturbation isn’t necessary or allowed if you’re in a relationship; that sex toys take your virginity; that penetrative sex toys stretch out your vagina; that your partner’s going to leave you for a sex toy; and that you’ll permanently lose sensation in your genitals if you use a vibrator. These are just some of the shitty myths that come up in sex toy education!

As an educator, it’s your job to be more neutral than dogmatic, and to put far more stock into science than myths. Teaching someone about sex is a powerful opportunity to untangle lots of damaging beliefs; it’s sacred and should be approached carefully!

Act inappropriately

While you might encounter lots of cute people in sex education work, it’s really not cool to hit on them, at least not in that teacher/student context. Later on, when you’re on more equal footing, an opportunity might arise to ask them out, etc. – but some educators won’t even do that! Wherever you draw your personal boundaries on this matter, I think it’s better they be too stringent than too loose.

I’ve had sex shop employees give me the flirty eyes, ask me overly personal questions, or even straight-up demand to know if I was single. Don’t be that guy!

Lay blame

A lot of people are really fucked up about sex. They might come to you knowing nothing or next-to-nothing about how sex toys work, the different types of toys, and what toys can and can’t do for their sexuality. It’s not their fault if their knowledge level is low; it’s the fault of our culture. That’s why educators’ work is so important.

In the movie High Fidelity, a record store employee, Barry (played by Jack Black), shames a customer for not owning a record Barry thinks he ought to own: “You don’t have it? That is perverse! Don’t tell anybody you don’t own fucking Blonde on Blonde!” Don’t be like Barry. Remember that everyone is just trying their best, and it’s not their fault they’re ill-informed about sex.

What other mistakes do you hate when sex toy educators make?

 

This post was sponsored by the folks at SexToyEducation.com. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.

Do I Want Kids? Part 3: The World & The Future

Kate Sloan

I have to admit: this instalment of my “Do I Want Kids?” series has been the hardest one to write, and the one I’ve been putting off the longest. Why? Well, it’s not exactly fun to talk about the demise of the planet.

I’ve had a number of conversations over the past few years with friends and partners about whether I think parenthood is in the cards for me, and one consideration that always comes up is: is it even ethical to create more people at a time like this in human history?

Overpopulation is rampant. There are countless kids around the globe waiting to be adopted already; why bring more into the world when that’s the case? I’ve been thinking about adoption a lot more lately since reading Elsie Larson’s blog with her husband Jeremy, TheLarsonHouse.com, about their experiences adopting two little girls with albinism from China. Obviously this is no less legitimate than biological parentage; no DNA test can disprove that they are these girls’ parents, emotionally, logistically, legally. As much as the ideas of pregnancy, giving birth, and passing on my genes and the genes of a partner all tug at my heartstrings, to me it seems apparent that adoption is the more ethical route, from a utilitarian philosophy perspective, if you have a choice between the two. (Not all of us do. Adoption is ridiculously expensive, and sometimes pregnancy strikes unexpectedly.)

But beyond that: what kind of a world is this to raise a child in? I’m terrified of climate change, the current political landscape, and what could happen over the next few decades. It’s a critical moment for humanity, one that’ll either be written up in history books or will just vanish, as we do, into the baked-in history of this crumbling planet. Having a kid at this particular moment sort of feels like renovating a house you know is about to be hit by a meteor. Why even try? All good parents want to spare their children from pain, and what worse pain could there be than trying to survive on a dying planet descending into fascist chaos?

That said, I’m admittedly not as much of a pessimist as this is making me sound. Time is tight, but awareness is growing, and it seems there’s a small chance we could save our planet and ourselves. Environmentally conscious leaders like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and Elizabeth May are mocked by right-wingers, but they have the right idea, and there will be more like them in the coming years. My inner state-smashing socialist wants us to overthrow capitalism and overhaul global energy systems in one fell swoop, but my inner realist knows democratic process and slow change are the likelier routes to real shifts in how we do things. I see some glimmers of hope on the horizon in that regard; it’s just a question whether there are enough of those glimmers and if they can summon change fast enough to save us.

There’s a quote from Angels in America I think about all the time in relation to climate change and global collapse: “Before life on Earth becomes finally merely impossible,” prophesies the titular angel, “it will, for a long time before, have become completely unbearable.” Would my children blame me for birthing them into a world where they have to live under staggeringly awful conditions? Or would they merely fight for change, and do their best, and make the most of the cards they were dealt?

All I know is that I don’t know. Maybe that’s enough for now.

 

Thanks so much to TestMeDNA.com for sponsoring this series. Check them out for all your legal paternity test needs!

Do I Want Kids? Part 2: Birth & Bodies

Kate Sloan

I’ve had the nightmare dozens of times: I’m in a fluorescently-lit room at the hospital, legs in stirrups, and everyone is yelling at me. Doctors, nurses, my assumed co-parent (though, better get a paternity test, girl, ’cause let’s hope your baby isn’t faceless and amorphic like this dude is). They all want me to PUSH, but what they don’t understand is that I am trying! My muscles barely obey me, and I slump and cry and try to do what I am told. And then, inevitably, I wake up – before I even get to see my baby.

What this recurrent dream shows me is that I’m terrified of giving birth. I think it’s hard not to feel this way if you have a vagina and a uterus, and maybe even if you don’t. The process is depicted in the media as one of the most physically painful experiences you’ll ever endure: I’ve seen soon-to-be-mothers in movies and TV shows screaming at their husbands, weeping in agony, praying for relief from gods they barely believe in. The pain scares me, yes, but in almost equal measure, I’m scared of who that pain could make me become.

There’s also the horror stories you hear about birth’s effect on the body. Parts can rip and swell and puncture and pop. You can pass out, bleed out, or shit yourself on the birthing bed. Having been relatively healthy for most of my life, I haven’t seen my body stretched to its extremes – and I’m not sure I want to. Why can cis fathers confirm their biological parenthood with a simple home paternity test while I have to endure hours of body- and soul-transforming labor to be eligible for mine?

It doesn’t help that my mom has told me all my life about how painful it was to give birth to me, since her epidural didn’t kick in quite right. But then, she does also say that giving birth to my little brother was comparatively painless, so maybe medical advances will be such by the time I’m pushin’ out a baby that I won’t have to break my brain with pain.

On the plus side, I am well accustomed to processing pain. Being a submissive masochist, I’ve written articles and done interviews on cognitive strategies for dealing with pain, and I struggle with chronic pain on a regular basis – so I’m better equipped than the average person for handling an excruciating situation.

I’ve also long been curious about vaginal fisting as a potential birth training activity during pregnancy, ever since I heard it discussed on some sex podcast long ago. Equivalent to the perineal massage recommended by many obstetricians, but a whole lot more intense, fisting could be a worthwhile practice for helping vaginal muscles learn to relax, stretch, and open up. Assuming the person fisting me would also be present at the birth (which may not be a fair assumption, what with my polyamorous sluttiness, but let’s pretend), they could even use similar communication strategies on The Big Day as they used in our fist-heavy “practice sessions” to guide me through the sensations. I am a big advocate for the idea that practicing difficult tasks makes them easier, and since you can’t exactly practice giving birth before it actually happens, fisting might be the next best thing.

The birth process seems less scary when I think of it that way: as an intense series of sensations, a rigorous task I’m putting my body through, not unlike a kink scene or a sexual feat. And if it seems weird to you to compare “the miracle of life” to a sex act, I would invite you to read Your Child’s Right to Sex, watch Orgasmic Birth, and remember that babies mostly occur because of sex!

Speaking of orgasmic birth… I am definitely the type of person to bring a Magic Wand vibrator to the hospital on that fateful day, assuming I had enough presence of mind to remember it at the time. (Let’s face it, that might be a job for my dutiful co-parent, whoever they may be.) Hey, if huge things are gonna be moving through my vagina, I want some clitoral vibrations to at least soften the blow! Sex educator Susie Bright famously used her wand to lessen discomfort during the birth of her first child. “I had no thought of climaxing,” she wrote in a 2006 blog post, “but the pleasure of the rhythm on my clit was like sweet icing on top of the deep, thick contractions in my womb.”

So, do I want to give birth? Part of me remains aghast at the thought. But another, bigger part of me is curious – curious how my pain tolerance would hold up, curious about what those “deep, thick contractions” feel like, curious about the extent to which pleasure can mitigate that level of pain. Pregnancy and birth are two magical things my body can (presumably) do that I haven’t yet experienced, and I’m always curious about bodily states I have yet to achieve. Maybe one day I’ll be swearing and sweating in a delivery room, cursing the day I ever claimed to want this – but if common accounts of the post-birth experience are true, the memory of that pain will soon melt away in favor of oxytocin bliss, endorphin nirvana, and the joy of meeting the new little person I’ve just brought into the world.

 

Thanks to TestMeDNA for sponsoring this series! Browse their website for answers to big questions like “What does a paternity test cost?” and “What the hell is a buccal swab?”