“What’s your number-one tip for giving the best blowjob?”
This question drives me insane. I usually pause to shoot murderous looks at whichever PR person has set up the interview before responding. I have two sound-bite-sized answers: “Don’t chomp down on the dick unless the person it’s attached to has expressed a desire for that sort of thing,” and “Experiment, communicate, and pay attention.” Usually the reporter doesn’t like either answer. They want to hear something about Altoids or strawberry-flavored lube. They want to know some secret for controlling a man through his orgasm, as though making your boyfriend ejaculate at will is some sort of way to turn them into the perfect mate. They want a detailed description of the magical three-button move that works on everyone. If something like putting slight pressure on the taint with my left thumb while using the fingers of that hand to gently cup the balls and slurping on the head of the cock with the exact suction tension of my mom’s twelve-year-old Hoover worked like a charm on every single penis, I would never, ever spend 45 minutes of my life on a porn set trying to be understanding and sensitive, while the male talent I’m working with struggles to maintain an erection or ejaculate [1] because he’s having a really bad day. I would be the crown princess of fucking people with my face. I would then attempt to argue that the above combination of stimuli is some kind of fellatio choreography, trademark it, and collect royalties every time a person used that maneuver for profit.
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There is no magical three-button move that works on everyone. Well, unless there are underground sex worker meetings that no one invites me to (a definite possibility) where arcane 100 percent successful blowjob tips are shared and kept secret from the rest of us.
Daddy [2] took me to this Italian restaurant a couple of days ago. The kitchen sent out pea mousse. When the waiter left, I quietly said I found the texture gross. Daddy said something about it being deconstructed and therefore fancy. Deconstructed food is why the most exciting thing about a fancy dinner is getting dressed up for it. I think peas taste great, so I don’t understand why anyone would want to make them far more complicated than necessary just to end up with what I see as an inferior pea-flavored dish. The same goes for deconstructing sex. You can break things down to constituent parts, but the organic whole is almost always better. Fuck pea mousse.
OK, OK, so that was a really clumsy transition. Let’s laugh about it together for a moment and then move on. Laughing together about something awkward and then moving on is a useful skill. It comes in very handy when, for instance, you’re slightly congested from a weather change and gagging on someone’s cock causes snot to shoot out of your nose. Or when you manage to gracefully shimmy out of your clothes and then trip over them because they’re puddled around your feet. Or when you realize there are no condoms after everyone is completely naked and you run to the corner store in heels and a blanket. Or when one of your holes starts making weird noises, when a cat jumps on your head midcoitus, or someone thinks the bottle of Tiger Balm on your windowsill is lube. All of these things have happened to me at least once. Sex involves bodies, which are full of fluids, noises, and awkward moments. I started having way more fun with sex when I came to terms with this.
Another concept that was really helpful to understand is that even if your sexual partner(s) have the same genitals that you do, you can’t [3] feel what they’re feeling. Everyone has preferences for which parts of their bodies are stimulated and what ways they are stimulated in. The amount of lubrication that’s just right for one guy is too slippery for another and kind of chafes a third. The pressure that means impending orgasm for one woman may lead another to wonder why you’re being so shy and a third to ask what her clitoris did to you and why you’re trying to bruise it. The only effective way I know of to figure out what feels good to another person is to communicate about it.
Some people make communication pretty easy by volunteering information. They might openly discuss past sexual experiences in a way that expresses their likes and dislikes. They might immediately provide verbal feedback, complimenting you on sensations that are just right and pointing out where they’d prefer things harder, softer, or sloppier. If this is the case, all you really have to do is actively listen. If you squeeze the shaft of someone’s cock, and he says “Oh, that feels awesome. Squeeze it harder!” squeeze it until he responds with something along the lines of “Yeah!” or “Just like that!” and then try to remember how hard you squeezed for the next time you want to do some sweet dick squeezing. Other people are less naturally vocal or comfortable, so you may need to try things and then gently prompt them for feedback or discussion. Personally, I’m (oddly) shy. I prefer to use text messages and emails to talk about the details of sexual desires and a variety of noises ranging from squeak toy through growls to communicate how I feel about what’s happening to my body.
Once you’re communicating, you build a knowledge base of what the person you’re having oral sex with likes, doesn’t like, and absolutely loves. At some point you’ll probably figure out what the magical three-button move for that specific person is. This is kind of awesome and kind of a trap. As expressed in the footnotes (you HAVE been reading the footnotes, right?), the meme of heterosexual sex ending with male orgasm and having an orgasm being the goal of sex for all people regardless of sex or gender is something I feel could use some challenging. Not everyone wants to have an orgasm. If they do, they might not necessarily want to have one in under four minutes, have thirty of them in the course of an hour, or proceed directly to the series of actions that are tried-and-true methods to make them come. Further complicating the concept of the magical three-button move is the fact that a man who loves the feeling and look of shoving his cock into your throat so hard that tears run down your face and you might vomit could, at another time, want to be massaged with your hands and tongue so gently that it practically tickles. People’s sexual tastes can vary depending on the day or even hour.
One of the positives of having a steady sexual partner is the opportunity to know each other’s bodies (and minds/souls/essences/whatever) inside out. The flip side of this comfort is a possibility of routine and the law of diminishing returns leading to boredom. I’m sure that there are people who consistently prefer their sex as routine or even boring. If that’s what gets you off, good for you. Enjoy it. Have the most predictable sex humanly possible, and I hope you find a wonderful partner or partners who enjoy that as well. However, it does seem like one of the drives behind interest in things like lists of sex tips is a desire to keep things fresh and novel. Experimentation and novelty go pretty well together. Experimentation can be anything from putting on a raccoon suit and duct taping yourself to the wall upside down to being unable to remember how your partner responds to having their genitals blown on and finding out by giving it another shot.
So there you go: have fun and try to avoid drawing blood with your teeth. Unless you’re into that sort of thing.
[1]Almost every mainstream, heterosexual-oriented pornographic sex scene involving a male performer ends with his ejaculation or shortly afterwards. This does bring up the narrative arc of foreplay-undressing-oral sex-penetrative intercourse-male ejaculation-end that is so pervasive in our discussions, ideas, and depictions of heteronormative sex, but that’s a whole other topic.
[2]I know it makes some of you cringe to see me referring to my boyfriend as Daddy. It’s going to be OK, I promise. You’ll either get used to it or stop reading because you can’t deal with it. Either outcome is fine.
[3]I guess if I’m going to mention the Immaculate Conception in a piece on birth control, I should probably mention the possibility of psychic powers, but until someone I know and respect develops telepathy, I’ll stand by my statement that you can’t feel exactly what another person is feeling.
Previously from Stoya:
Stoya on How Porn Chicks Avoid Getting Preggers
