Sex in Three Parts adapted from Alexis Shotwell
Sex is a revolutionary act. Sex is an act of mutual aid. Sex is loving yourself, pleasuring your partner, having fun, and feeling wonderful. Sex unites body and mind, it is sheer presence. What brings you into the moment more than an orgasm?
There are some special things we do just for pleasure, just because of how they make us feel or how they make other people feel. Playing fabulous music, cooking wonderfully, napping. I encourage you to think of these things, and then go out and do them - they’re things that fight what can be the soul-sucking misery of capitalism. Sex is right up there on the list of pleasure-for-its-own-sake activities. And so it bugs me that often sex ends up being horribly mismanaged and not fun, or flat out fucked up, or explicitly an exercise in experiencing insecurity. Sex is a good thing, and we should have a fabulous time doing it, but we might also need to keep some guidelines in mind. The following are my bossy ideas for how to keep the deliciousness-neurosis ratio low.
Part One: Before you get to the salty, sweet, sweaty bits involved with sex, there’s the time between identifying someone you’d like to get with and actual canoodling. In my experience, the main neurosis in this part comes from people not communicating openly. If you’re attracted to someone, there are two times when it's good to tell them how you’re feeling: 1) when you think they might return the favor, or 2) when you’re obsessing, and your crush is causing you anguish or ruining your friendship. Divulging of attraction minimizes the embarrassment factor inevitably involved for yourself and your potential smooch-ees. I suggest scripts like these: “I’d love to hang out with you for the third time this week. But I want you to know that I have carnal intentions toward you. How do you feel about that?” or “Can we make out, even though I’m not up for a serious relationship right now?” Notice that these are verbal representations of what is sometimes assumed to be a purely spontaneous, "you just know” kind of event. Don’t get me wrong: I’m all for wordless goodness. Trouble is that moving in, lips puckered, can leave the recipient of your pucker with no smooth way to take a bit more time, to let you know that actually he has a boyfriend in Baltimore, or whatever.
A way the pre-naked part goes wrong is when your crush is purely one-sided. This is a non-consensual crush: the object of your affection is unaware of your interest, or uninterested, and you persist in interpreting their every action as proof of your excellent chances to someday soon nibble their earlobe. Which is why talking is good. The main point: you should refrain from projecting stuff on people you’re into, you should communicate clearly, gently, and honestly with them, and you should make every effort to relinquish unrequited crushes. This is also the part where you go out and get tested for sexually transmitted infections, most notably HIV and hepatitis.
Part Two: And then you’ve made it to sex narrowly defined - there’s probably kissing, groping, tingly goodness, and perhaps bare skin. Yay! But also, Yipes! What to do? Here I have three recommendations: 1) Don’t base your sex on what you see in movies, or an abstract idea of what you should be doing. While a lot of the time the naked part is easy and fun, there is a fair chance that there’ll be some awkwardness. Many of us tend to fall into patterns that are really pretty messed up. Rigidly heteronormative sex isn’t fun, even for straight couples. Sometimes you find yourself in bed with someone who has (or you yourself might have) a difficult or painful history with sex. Again communication is key - it doesn’t have to be verbal, but it can be. Check with your partner(s) as you go, and be willing to shift what you’re doing. Be receptive to your partner's behavior: if they freeze up or if their eyes seem really distant, you need to check in. Also, communicate how you’re feeling: if your partner turns out to be a massively tongueful kisser, and you prefer upper-lip subtle licking, demonstrate what you’re into on them and request they try it. This is often a really hard thing to do - we’re all willing to turn other people on, but often have a hard time asking them to change what or how they’re doing things with/to us. Sex is so amazing when you can tell your partner "a little to the left!", and also empowers your partner because they can please you oh-so-nice. 2) My second recommendation is: Be willing to stop explicitly sexual activities, even after they’ve started. If you’ve developed a hesitation, say so. If you’re fine with kissing but not with nipple pinching, say “I like kissing, but don’t pinch my nipple.” If you want to stop making out altogether, say so. If the person or people you’re in bed with expresses a wish to stop an activity - for heaven’s sake, stop! Remember, consent is a fully afirmative YES, not an ambiguous yes, or a well-not-really-but-ok-yes. Silence is not consent. And too intoxicated to consent is NOT consent. 3) Third, adventure and pushing boundaries is hot. Be willing to expand the horizons of what turns you on. If your new honey likes nothing better than going down on you, and you’re not sure what you think about it, give it a shot. Or if she’d really like to try sex with a new strap-on in the shower, see if there’s a place in your libido for that. Or if he’s into role-plays, play along. If any of the potential activities are stretches for you, set up time limits: five minutes of cunnilingus, unless I tell you explicitly I want you to keep going. We stop with the strap on if the hot water runs out. But don't feel like you have to concede to something you feel uncomfortable with just because your partner wants to. And in general: Don’t fall into the trap of assuming that sex is only sex if penetration happens, or if there are massive yelling orgasms – these are fine but unnecessary ingredients. The best sex comes with communication, an open mind, and being present in the moment. Finally: these are still potentially dangerous times, my friends! Before any potentially fluid-exchange-y activities, you gotta talk about when the last time you got tested was and what sex you’ve had since then. This is never a hugely sexy conversation, but with practice, it’ll become just another aspect of your erotics of talk. And since you’ll have listened to my wise advice in Part One, at this point you’ll already have been tested. Regardless, latex = good.
Part Three: Especially if this was the first time you’ve hooked up with someone, the post-sex can be stressful. What are they thinking? When will you see each other again? This is a time to refrain from projecting and have open-conversation. You may have decided that you’re not interested in any more hoo-ha, or that you’re interested in lots more. In either case, ideally you’ll let the person in question know where you’re at - clearly, gently, and honestly. This conversation doesn't have to happen that night in bed, it's okay to just cuddle and fall asleep if that's what you're feeling. However, talking is simple and easy, and post-sex communication is satisfying. It becomes part of sex. Remember to try not to make assumptions about how your partner is feeling. The ideal in this part is for clear understanding of what’s going on, in one of three situations: 1) You both want to keep having sex, and with each other (brilliant!) 2) You want to and they don’t (understand that you are wonderful anyway, and try not to argue too much with them) or b. they want to and you don’t (be clear and firm, but not mean) 3) Neither of you want to (also fine! Part civilly, and perhaps craft a friendship).