Technical Difficulties
When you think of the word ‘technical’, and try to apply it to the concept of ‘sex’, where does your mind go?
Mine, due to recent physical changes I’ve been experiencing, first goes to the fallibility of the human machine. To ‘technical difficulties.’ Mechanical failure.
While I wouldn’t categorize my sexual responses as ‘failing’, exactly, they are also not functioning in the way they once did. Malfunctioning? …eh. That’s not quite right either, but when it comes to the inner workings of the sexual machine, the term ‘planned obsolescence’ comes to mind. There is no handy toll-free number to call for a fix-it. Our physiological technology simply outdates itself eventually.
And if it doesn’t, well… Just as a vehicle eventually outlives its ability to maintain speed and provide a smooth ride – no matter how diligently we maintenance it every 5,000 miles – so too do we.
Mechanics and Movement
From a physical standpoint, mechanics (not as in, “I need to take my car to my mechanic to have my oil changed” but as in, body mechanics) are key to positioning and movement, which both directly affect sexual activity. For some of us, this is not (yet) an issue. But for many of us, it’s just our normal. It’s something we have to work around.
Besides ‘technical difficulties’, body mechanics and movement is what immediately pops to mind when I consider the question:
I think of things like my partners’ arthritic fingers and wrists, and the resultant difficulties they experience with pain/discomfort. Arthritis is just one example, but I think it’s one some of you might relate to. Arthritis affects range of motion, ease of movement, resiliency against pressure (think: squeezing your fist around a cock or maintaining come-hither repetitive motion against a G-spot), temperature tolerance, and stamina.
Are there work-arounds? Yes. But it’s still a thing.
On a personal level: Fingering is one of my preferred penetrative activities to receive, and hand jobs are one of my favorite tactile pleasures to give; so when the body’s mechanics/capabilities (due to arthritis, or other pain/compromised-motion issues) are not aligning with the desired activities, it can be frustrating.
Positioning/Technique
I also think of body mechanics in terms of positioning and technique.
Not just as in, “Put Tab A into Slot B then pump hips,” but as in, “My knee does not bend comfortably in that position, so don’t try to raise my leg” and “For fuck’s sake, don’t LAY on me! I can’t reach my clit and you’re too damned heavy!”
Positions:
Sometimes I have to laugh at the positions we get ourselves into. Somehow a ‘splayed T’ has become a go-to position – for intercourse – over the years with my spouse. It looks somehow both lazy and porno-esque, but it evolved naturally from our individual needs: I can’t stand to have weight on me (a la the too damned heavy bit in the preceding paragraph), and I need to reach my clit; he can’t hold himself above me* for any length of time, but likes to be face-to-face.**
Technique:
This – in my opinion – encompasses everything from ‘that swirly lick-suck thing’ to ‘getting the timing right so we orgasm together’ to ‘buckling the cuff just so’ to ‘pressing against his anus with exactly 1.279 psi when he’s backing onto my strap-on.’
It’s “how-to” directions and years-of-practice expertise, step-by-steps and natural rhythm.
And while it’s all those things…
Technique, though…
Does technique alone make for a good lover?
Do certain techniques work on/for all partners?
Those are questions I struggle with (mostly because, in my own experience, the answer to both questions is NO), but I think there is validity in discussing the technical aspects of sex in terms of technique, particularly for people who are unable to process the meant-to-be-helpful (but are just not.helpful.at.ALL) messages of ‘just do your own thing’.***
What do you think?
There are definitely more aspects to sexual technicalities than the ones I’ve talked about here. There is the question of “What is sex?” (which some of you may remember discussing at length several years ago), which is – for some – a highly technical question, and – for many – something that should probably be considered.
Definitions are rarely all-encompassing, but they are a helpful starting point. Especially if all parties want to be on the same page before embarking on sexual explorations, yes?
There are also further rabbit warrens in which to enmaze**** yourself if you so desire:
- What does ‘technical’ mean in the context of sex and sexual activity?
- Which technical aspects of sex apply to me and/in my sexual relationship(s)?
- How do the technical functions of kink impact my understanding/interpretation/execution of a specific thing?
Etc., ad infinitum.
SO.
Your turn!
(And I really do want to know. I love to see how people think. đ )
When you think of ‘technical’ aspects of sex, what comes to mind?
AND
What technical aspects of sex do you find tricky?
*Interestingly, when I asked my husband the ‘technical’ question, the fact that we have to make adjustments in positioning due to his own health-related physical restrictions never occurred to him; it’s that much our ‘normal’.
**I have mixed thoughts/feelings/opinions about this; eye contact is important to me and creates connection, yet some of the best sex I’ve had has not been face-to-face.
***Having seen my teenage nephew recently, who is – in addition to having multiple mental health diagnoses – on the autism spectrum, brought the “Needs Clear, Concise Directions for ALL THINGS” message home even more than my 2018 correspondence with an autistic reader did.
****It is so a word.
Technique is, um, the skill it takes to do something and sex, as you well know, has many techniques that many of us strive to master… but without desire, technique – I think – is just going through the motions and exhibiting skill… and because ya know how to utilize technique.
But yeah – you get older, shit stops working flawlessly as it once did… and now technique is about making adjustments that, hopefully, doesnât kill desire or turns having sex into a comedy of errors.
Still, for many technical proficiency means everything – the right thing done at the right moment and all that. You never forget the technical aspects but execution becomes the all of it… and itâs hard to execute technique when pain is telling you to stop this nonsense or else.
What you said about technique… By itself, without desire/connection, it’s just going through the motions… YES, I totally agree!
It’s a bit like mastering musicianship, I think. Just playing the notes in perfect time is not enough. Concentration and feeling have to work hand in hand with technical skill to make it music. Otherwise it’s just noise.
As a musician, I understand the analogy all too well. You develop the techniques to play your instrument, learn to read the music and play it as written… but the difference between a perfectly performed piece of music and music that moves the soul is being able to interpret the piece in ways that reflects what it means to you and how your interpretation can make others feel.
And, yeah – if you don’t follow the music’s notations, all you’re really doing is making a lot of noise, like playing a “pp”(pianissimo) passage at “ff” (forte fortissimo) levels. Noisy, unbalanced, messy, and fails to reveal the beauty of the passage… just merely “gets it done.”
You can play it as written… or play it with your feelings. Sex is like that. We all learn how to have sex, learn the techniques and just like some musicians, pick up bad habits; some produce excellent results, some do the opposite. You can have masterful technique and all the desire imaginable… but you still have to be able to do it, right?
And, sometimes, our bodies just ain’t our friends and probably why the saying, “The mind is willing but the flesh is weak” comes from. I’ve “mastered” the art of cunnilingus, have practiced for as long as I can remember, but after having my neck surgically repaired, ouch. Not doing that is unthinkable… so you develop new techniques that will allow you to employ the other techniques or, plainly, you work with what you have.
Sex is a ballet, a mix of technique and expression with everything moving in time and in sync with your “dance partner…” and if you sprain an ankle, well, you get the idea and, yep, the show must go on and you “dance” as best you can and hope you’ve done well enough that the critics don’t tar and feather you for a lackluster performance.
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YES to all of this!
(And I remember how you shuddered at seeing the sheet music I posted once for a Chopin nocturne, so I knew you’d ‘get’ the music reference. đ )
I don’t know where to start on my comment…
I have never once, after seeing the question and posting it as a prompt for Wicked Wednesday, thought about the failing human mechanism of the body as part of technical sex. Oh gosh Feve, I have so much to say about this, living with a man who is seeing his body failing him a bit more every day, and my trying to support him as best as I could, denying myself things I would love to do/experience, because his health and getting him better (for as far as that goes) is now much more important than anything I want. But at the same time I know damn well that I am not getting younger, and my mechanism will eventually start to fail too… there are already a few cracks…
I might have to blog about this.
Rebel xox
I absolutely understand.
Not being on the same page as your partner, sexually speaking, is difficult to negotiate in and of itself. But when physical disabilities (and the resultant mental/emotional stressors) interweave their muddled stitches into that tapestry, the result is rarely pretty. Guilt and resentment war with “don’t be selfish” and “just get through the day” – on both sides – and there are desires (unmet, or incapable of meeting) and expectations and frustrations… But but but, and and and…
Sex is important, and you’re right: we aren’t getting any younger.
And yet.
Finding balance – meeting the sexual and emotional needs of all parties while likewise maintaining physical and mental health – is a challenge.
xoxo
Such a wonderful post . . . so many of the points you mention strike a chord . . . all so brilliantly written. And yes it is all a challenge, but on those wonderful occasions that everything all falls into place, it does make the challenge worthwhile doesn’t it.
Xxx – K
So true!
The key for working around those challenges – for me – is compassionate communication.
As long as technique doesn’t become an end in itself, I figure anything can be improved with a new spin or methodology….
But, the Kama Sutra’s full of technical positions that I wouldn’t try even if I was 130 pounds and 15 inches long. đ
Hahaha! I think it should be called the Karma Sutures, because I figure some of those positions are going to lead to ‘bad’ versions of one or the other! đ
Ain’t THAT the truth ! đ
This was a very thoughtful take on the meme… I have severe osteoarthritis in both knees and need them both replaced- already! (Was diagnosed in my late 30’s…) So anything requiring knee bending either has to be limited time wise or just not done at all depending on the day it takes clear careful communication about how I am feeling in that moment with my partners. A few years ago I dated a man 20 years my senior, (I was in my early 40’s) so there were also allowances for how his body had changed and how it was working- often planning was required so he could take his little blue pill, or prepare mentally… All of these things come into play as we age, move in and out of illnesses etc and I love how you addressed them here. TFS!
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I attended a rheumatology appointment with my husband, who has osteoarthritis, and the doctor told us there is a medication being developed (for the first time – heretofore osteo has been considered a pain management issue, as it has been untreatable directly) that, if it passes FDA approval in the states, would benefit 80% of the population. Eighty percent! That’s how many people suffer – on some level – from arthritis and/or arthritically damaged joints.
You would think, with it being that prevalent of an issue, that ‘making allowances’ (as you say) and creating work-arounds would be a fairly normal practice. I rarely read about it though, especially not in a sexual context.
Ever noticed how the people who say, “just do your own thing” generally expect your thing to exhibit itself according to an image they hold in *their* heads…? Being told to “just do [my] own thing” is one of the quickest ways to induce performance anxiety that I know of, because it ALWAYS implies dissatisfaction with the present and inflated expectations for the future. See Jz shut downâŠ
If you wanna go toilet-paper the houses of people who say that, count me in.
As the engineerâs daughter, however, I prefer mechanical competency over techniqueal (see ****, above) proficiency. Iâve generally found techniqueal (yep, still using it) skills to be over-rated. (Or at least, over-reported.) There is no road map to the Holy Grail, it’s all an exploratory adventure. Remaining open to going with the flow is the only technique that I’ve seen garner much success.
Mechanical skill, on the other hand, lets you master the corporeal challenges of sex – any number of which can crop up at any point. I would MUCH rather be with someone who says, âTry putting that foot here insteadâ to the one who says âJust do your own thing.â
Just one womanâs opinion.
I am with you on that! (And techniqeal — love it!) Count me in for the TP party! đ
I think when it comes to *how* to do something, in terms of step-by-step directions… Yes, there is a place for that. Especially where new kinks are concerned. But the pleasure, for me, is in (mutual) discovery, so people who are all, “I’m amazing at oral sex” when they’ve never even been introduced to MY lady bits… Um, no. I’ll decide whether you’re any good or not, thank you. But that kind of arrogance is not going to allow them the chance to even try to prove it. Because it’s not about five-star tongue gymnastics, it’s about whether our floor routine is going to be a *mutual* success. And that takes practice.
I hadn’t thought of the prompt in this way, but when I saw your post it seemed so obvious! I think, like you said, when you adjust sex for those reasons it just becomes your new normal, so you don’t really think about it.
Aurora x
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Everybody has their own version of ‘normal’, but a bit of tweaking is required to get there sometimes. đ
We had temporary mechanical failures while I went through a few rounds of “What the hell is wrong with me now” at various doctors’ offices. And for us, sex became this delicate balance of “Is this okay for you?” and “Please god don’t touch me right now.” Thankfully we’ve moved past that — for now, since time refuses to cease moving forward and will surely bring us more age-rated things to consider soon enough. But I’d say we didn’t handle it as well as maybe we could have, likely because we saw it as temporary problem to be solved, assuming we’d get back to “business as usual” soon enough.
That being said, we DO have a singular preferred position (spooning) that keeps his weight off of my body (which has caused panic attacks in the past) and works well for his wonky back. And while we found the position to reduce those issues, I can relate to the idea of it being “natural” because it wasn’t something we talked about or ever analyzed. It simply worked so we did it, and we continue to do it because we love it.
Wow, I didn’t think I had thoughts on this. Guess I was wrong, lol.
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Interesting that you viewed that delicate-balance thing as temporary; I feel like all sex(y) things are always a delicate balance, which can add a bit of stress/strain to the proceedings.
Re: panic attacks ~ OMG, this is *so* totally a thing for me! It’s something I try to warn my partners about, but even with fair warning, I know I’ve hurt people’s feelings. I can’t stand to have any weight on me (I’ll beat at Smotch and yell, “No squishing!” Which, of course, TOTALLY enhances the mood…) or anything on/near/obstructing any part of my airway. So, yeah. Kissing? Problematic. Snuggling? It must be done _just_ so. Fucking? Lawd, there’s some issues right there!
GUH. đš
I totally relate to the list of adjustments you have to make – all my joints are a bit fucked up and there are some things I just canât do for any length of time because despite what the porn vids would have us believe, itâs just Not Fun. Itâs kind of a relief to realise that not everyone is having perfect choreographed ache-free sex, thank you for writing about it (and so honestly and entertainingly)
Gawd, the ridiculousness of pornolympics:
The sex-as-extreme-flex-cardio depicted therein is not even remotely fun! Not for me, anyway.
I’m so glad you could relate. đ
My normal has changed over the years and with my partners – I used to really enjoy being fingered but now it just not seem to work for me as well – the technical aspect doesn’t seem to fall into place for me to get the enjoyment from the act – not as I used to. Maybe age. But I have been happy to delve more into clitoral stimulation and that is working for me now – in fact, my clitoris seems to have become more sensitive over the last few years and the orgasms very strong. PIV sex is OK – and used to be number one for me – but now the technical aspects of the act don’t work for both of us. Always willing to change and evolve though đ
PIV is probably my least favorite thing these days, and the more I talk to mature women about sex, the more I find that my experience is fairly common. Whether its age or infirmity or interest or (dis)ability – on our own part or that of our partners – the lessening of PIV as a sexual focus seems to be a commonality of experience.
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