Notes on the value of cunnilingus — from someone with experience
“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. Anything short of that is simply being besties. And that’s all well and good. But girls, listen to me — ya gotta go down.
“Why?” you ask. “Who are you to tell me what lesbian sex looks like?” you volley. And so I must reply, “Why wouldn’t you?”
It’s amazing the differences between the ruling stereotypes when it comes to lesbians and gay men. Undersexed for the former and oversexed for the latter, the theory goes. The club scene and Grindr for the boys, harrowing stories of lesbian bed death for girls. Not OK. These really are just stereotypes. 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 The Explorer with their toddlers and driving the car pool than minding Scruff and dominating the dancefloor. So, as always, the truth lies somewhere in between the cliches.
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. 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 fine by me. But it also has the unfortunate effect of making being a lesbian look more like a pillow-fighting, hair-brushing, giggle-inducing sleepover than the truly adult 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 cunnilingus 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 lack of Pussy Pride. (Hey, it’s Gay Pride Month — and that’s all-encompassing.)
The pussy is a wondrous thing. Full of delicious nerve endings, it can 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, if you’re not feeling so secure about your nether regions, oral sex might become a problem.
And that’s a problem.
There are few things in life more intimate than oral sex. There’s no way to do it at a distance — not that I’m aware of any way. 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 — there’s something inherently wrong with a woman’s pussy. It’s too wild, too ripe, too rich, too wet, smells too much, tastes too strong (or weird) or fill-in-the-blank. But that’s about selling product 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.
Jenny Block is an author and contributor to Dallas Voice.
This article appeared in the Dallas Voice print edition June 6, 2014.