What is “good sex“? Is there a single answer to that question, or does the definition vary from person to person? In her latest post, Calico explores this question — and warns that if you’re too certain your own preferences are the “right” ones, you risk alienating and turning off your partner, instead of possibly finding a middle ground you can both enjoy.
Or maybe you and your partner just aren’t compatible, and it’s senseless to try to pound square pegs into round holes, so to speak. Read all about it in the new post “The Key To ‘Good Sex’? Understanding It Isn’t A One-Size-Fits-All Thing” …
by Calico Rudasill, Sssh.com Porn for Women
There was a time when I thought I had unlocked the secret to great sex. My belief was founded upon the fact I was having amazing, earth-moving sex with my then-boyfriend on a daily basis – often a multiple-times-daily basis, in fact. When that relationship ended, I figured all I had to do to assure great sex with my next partner was to approach it the same way I had with my previous one.
Much to my dismay, my optimistic expectation was shattered within one or two very unsatisfying encounters with my new beau. The relationship itself crumbled quickly, as well; it just couldn’t survive the awkward, uncomfortable aftermath of disappointing sex.
When I thought about the why, what and how of it all went wrong with the short-lived romance, something embarrassingly obvious struck me: Sex doesn’t conform to a formula – and even if it did, every partner would represent a different “variable” which needs to be solved for, and it’s just never going to be as simple as X² = 4.
While many counselors, advisors, columnists, self-help authors and life-coach types seem to think there’s a single approach which represents good sex, my experiences and observations suggest otherwise.
One Woman’s OMG Is Another Woman’s WTF
When I asked her how her relationship was going, a girlfriend of mine once told me she was in process of “training” her new boyfriend when it came to sex.
“He has no idea what he’s doing,” she laughed. “So, I’m teaching him what’s what.”
When she described “what’s what” to me from her perspective, it sounded awful, frankly. Her idea of good sex was something totally foreign to me, and hearing about it was a bit like having someone recommend to you a terrible book, one you’ve already been unfortunate enough to read, and all the while they’re telling you how amazing it is, and how your life will change when you read it.
A few weeks later, with palpable disbelief, she told me that her boyfriend had dumped her. What seemed to shock her was utterly predictable to me. It was clear in talking to her about how she was going about “training” this fellow her approach was not just pedantic, but downright insulting. He wasn’t simply being told she didn’t like the same kind of sex he did; he was being told he was doing it wrong – and unacceptably wrong, at that.
Odder still was that what she described as bad sex was exactly the sort of slow, deliberate lovemaking many women wish their lovers would approach sex with – as opposed to a vigorous mechanical pounding which seems like they’re trying to accomplish the sexual equivalent of winning one of those high-striker carnival games.
These conversations with my friend only deepened my conviction: When it comes to what constitutes “good sex,” it truly is a matter of different strokes for different folks.
The Only Advice I Have: Seek Good Chemistry Which Is Also Natural Chemistry
Ideally, you find yourself with a partner who is a good match for you in terms of preferences and practices, someone you don’t feel compelled to try to change, sexually speaking, because you mesh well from the start.
This is not to say it’s realistic to think you and your partner will ever have identical sexual tastes and proclivities; human beings are much too complicated and varied in preferences for this to be likely. What you can realistically hope for, though, is to find someone whose idea of good sex matches your own well enough that your differences are eclipsed by your common ground.
I’m also not saying people can’t change sexually, or that there will never be something your partner enjoys doing and you don’t which you shouldn’t ask him, her or they to change or stop doing.
I had a lover once who I was very well matched with, for example, other than his tendency to grab my breasts with way too much force while we were fucking. Solving that problem was simple enough: I told him to knock it off. While he did lapse a few times over the months and did it anyway, he always stopped immediately and apologized (breathlessly, but apologetically nonetheless) when I’d point out he was up to his irritating old tit-grabbing trick again.
Good sex is also something which often must be worked toward in a mutual fashion. Early on in our relationship, my husband and I had to negotiate several compromises in our sex life. He’s an eye contact during sex in a well-lit room kind of person, while I like to have the lights off and tend to close my eyes and tilt my head back. Sure, it’s so I can pretend he’s someone else, but I’m polite enough to keep that part to myself… (I kid, dear, I kid.)
Our way of meeting in the middle has been brilliant, I think: A candle-lit bedroom and pauses in our lovemaking during which our eyes meet as we gently caress each other, often between positional changes. The compromise felt a little weird at first, to both of us, but over time it has become one of our favorite aspects of our sex life.
While sexual change and exploration are all to the good, I still think it’s a mistake for partners to try to take things too far, or to expect each other to change sexually in a way which is fundamental, or alien to a person’s nature.
Let’s say you’re into truly rough sex or BDSM, for example; I’d say you’re way better off trying to find a partner who is already similarly inclined, or at least has expressed a real openness to experimenting with such things than trying to persuade a person who is hesitant to push their boundaries to do so.
And if you do ever feel compelled to “train” your partner on your idea of good sex, just be sure not to be too condescending or shitty about it, or you’re liable to find yourself on a fast train to Dumpsville – and rightfully so.