"Sweetheart, that's all very nice, but if you're not going to eat pussy, you're not a dyke," a lesbian character on Sex and the City famously tells Charlotte, who, upon being asked if she's a lesbian, has answered that she is not but loves the "company" of women.
I have to agree with the lesbian. Anything short of eating pussy is simply being besties. And that's all well and good, but girls, you gotta go down.
"Why?" you ask. "Who are you to tell me what lesbian sex looks like?"
And so I must reply, "Why wouldn't you?"
When it comes to lesbians and gays, the differences between the ruling stereotypes are amazing. The former are undersexed, the latter oversexed, the theory goes. The club scene and Grindr for the boys, and harrowing stories of lesbian bed death for the girls. Not OK. But where's the truth?
Well, lesbian bed death isn't my reality, and I have plenty of gay friends who spend more time watching Dora and driving carpool than minding Scruff and dominating the dance floor. So, as always, the truth lies somewhere in between.
But why does sex matter? That one's easy: because it's the difference between friends and lovers. Because it's good for you. Because it's one of the few true pleasures left in the world, no money or special equipment required.
It's become strangely chic to be a lesbian these days. And I wouldn't dare argue that that's a bad thing. Anything that helps bring us out of the darkness and into the light of normalcy is A-OK by me. But it also has the unfortunate effect of making a lesbian relationship look more like a pillow-fighting, hair-brushing, giggle-inducing sleepover than the truly sexual relationship it is.
Yes, yes, I know: You certainly can have a sexless relationship that works in its own way. But in general, a healthy, happy, more-than-friends relationship -- lesbian or otherwise -- involves sex, and when it comes to great lesbian sex, you're missing out if you're leaving oral sex out of the equation.
But more than that, it's hard not to wonder what's fueling the decision of lesbians who choose to remain on the dock rather than dive in. My fear is that it's some level of a lack of pussy pride.
The pussy is a wondrous thing, full of delicious nerve endings and able to be pleasured in a plethora of ways. In the name of not getting too naughty here, let's just say it's a feast for the senses. The thing is that if you're not feeling so secure about your nether regions, oral sex might become a problem.
And that's a problem.
There is little that is more intimate than oral sex. There's no way to do it at a distance -- not that I'm aware of, anyway. To eat pussy is to be enveloped in another person's body. Literally. If you don't want the woman you love ensconced in your bits or vice versa, it might be time to explore why.
Pussy pride is key for women, lesbian or otherwise, and we live in a world that doesn't always make it easy to love our lady parts. You can buy sprays to change the way you smell. You can pay a surgeon to change the way you look. You can learn how to wax and shave and pluck and primp every square inch to make your pussy "presentable."
All of that makes it increasingly difficult not to internalize the prevailing message that there's something inherently wrong with a woman's pussy. It's too wild, too ripe, to rich, too wet, smells too much, tastes too strong or weird or fill in the blank. But that's about selling products or keeping women "in their place." It has nothing -- nothing -- to do with reality.
The pussy is great. The problem is with the world.
You love your girl, right? Or at least you want her in some way or you wouldn't be with her. Your rejection is more devastating than you know. It either establishes or fuels a woeful lack of pussy confidence.
So if you're not letting your partner go down because you think you're gross, it's time to regroup. The same goes if you're the one refusing to be the eater as opposed to the eatee. It's time to get some positive pussy thinking going.
It's time to read about how glorious she is. It's time to get out the old mirror and have a look at your own parts. Maybe it's even time for a sex workshop to get you back in the zone. Or get thee to a therapist (no shame in that) and get out from under that negative rhetoric that's keeping you from getting under -- or on top of -- your girl.
We’re spilling the tea on all the queer news that matters to you. Learn more