Asking Alice - 'What's your best Sex Advice?'

A new regular column in which you can ask me all manner of 'agony aunt' style questions, and I'll wilfully digress around the topic and likely be of no use at all...

“Hello Alice, long time reader here and avid fan of both your tits and writing (in that specific order). It seems you’ve had a not immodest amount of distinctly average sex over the years, so I wondered if you could offer some ‘sexual top tips’ as to what could help me stand out from the crowd? Kind regards, Ima Realman. Ps. Nice tits.”
- A legitimate question from a definitely real person and not someone I made up due to starting this column without soliciting for questions first.

Offering sexual advice is very much akin to pissing into the wind; it’s a largely futile effort in which there’s a lot of noise, no one quite knows where to look and, even in the best case scenario, someone is ultimately getting wet. But rather than topredo my own premise in the opening paragraph, let’s pretend for a moment I actually have something of value to add to the discourse.

Welcome, dear reader, to ‘Asking Alice’. A new and, I hope, regular column in which I’ll do my best to answer reader submitted questions on whatever topic you care to conjure. From blowjobs to dealing with tyre blowouts, cum queries to effective means of c[u]mmunication, I’ll do my damndest to answer and offer an opinion that should likely be ignored.

Consider me your online agony aunt. Except I’m much too young and glamorous to be your aunty and it’s the advice itself that’ll be agony.

So. Let’s get to Mr Realman’s entirely genuine question. My best sex advice? Easy:

Don’t listen to sex advice.

That was quick, wasn’t it? See you next time!

What’s that, Mr Realman? You’d like some more? Gosh, you’re a demanding literary MacGuffin, aren’t you.

Okay. Here’s why I’m of the opinion that most - though definitely not all - sexual advice is usually best ignored: All too often it boils down to simple lists of ‘dos and don’ts’ which are, at best, deeply personal and entirely context sensitive and, at worst, create little more than a flow-chart of expectations which can only result in disappointment. They’re little more than a map of someone else’s route to ‘success’, except you don’t have a key or a compass and you might not even agree which way is north.

Sex is at its worst when it becomes an exercise in box ticking. There’s nothing more liable to result in a disappointing encounter than a partner simply going through the motions of a ‘tried and tested routine’ that is - and I’ve heard these literal words spoken to me in the moment - “guaranteed to work”.

Spoilers: It very rarely does.

It’s an old cliche but it’s also an entirely accurate one to say that what works for one won’t work for everyone. Let me assure you that there’s nothing quite so disheartening as hearing ‘but this always works!’ while a guy manipulates a delicate part of your anatomy in a manner that I’m sure someone at some stage will have enjoyed - or perhaps they too were taking pity on the poor man and pretending to enjoy the experience - despite any protests or suggestions you may make to the contrary.

In short, anything even remotely ‘instructional’ stands almost as much chance of being entirely wrong as it is proving in any way helpful. Doing anything because you read about it online somewhere rather than because it feels something organic to do *in the moment* will nearly always result in something of a stall to proceedings.

Which brings me, neatly, to the only piece of sexual advice I’ll willingly give, being as it is less active advice and more simply a timely reminder:

SEX IS SUPPOSED TO BE FUN.

(FOR *BOTH* PARTICIPANTS)

Ultimately, this is *all* that matters.

If you’re both having fun then it doesn’t matter what you’re actually doing or even how well you’re doing it. Whether it has you in the exquisite throes of sexual bliss, or has you both in tears of laughter after a lamentable failure, if it’s fun then it *is* working.

The crux of the matter is this: If you’re enjoying it, it’s worth doing. And if you’re not enjoying it, you need to find ways *together* to make it fun, and not rely on a list of what someone else deems worthy of making things work.

Other people’s experiences should be a fun read - It’s the whole point of my Substack after all - but they should be enjoyed as such and not sought to be replicated beat for beat, suck for suck, fuck for fuck. Because experience is useless in the cold light of day - yesterday’s solution to tomorrow’s problem.

So just make your own fun instead!

Do you have a question you’d like to see me answer? Pose it in the comments or, if you’d like to remain anonymous, send a message and it may feature in a future Asking Alice column!