There are some things that you deserve in virtue of the fact that you fulfil a set of criteria: get all the answers right in this test, you deserve an A. Spend fifty quid at a nice restaurant, you deserve a decent meal in exchange for your money.

There are certain things that you deserve simply for being alive, and human: the right to liberty, equality before the law, a certain level of privacy, etc.

Into which of these categories does sex fit? Is it something you have a human right to, like justice, or is it something that you deserve if you have done certain things to earn it?

The right to sex

If you answered ‘neither’ then you are correct. The problem is that while on the surface most decent people can see why sex is not a human right – it’s blindingly obvious that you don’t ‘deserve’ sex just because you are a living human who wants it – there are many people who feel like it falls into the first category – that if you do X, Y and Z you somehow deserve to get laid. Someone withholding your justly earned sex is like a teacher withholding an A, even though you got all of the answers right.

Something awful happened recently that caused a few things to fall into place in my head. I’ve long had a sense of creeping dread about pick-up artists, Nice Guys, and a whole host of other things that I want to put under the blanket label ‘misogynist’. They make me uncomfortable, not just because they are misogynist, but because they have a skewed and unusual view on sex that I’ve struggled to put into words.

You’ll probably have seen the recent news that a young guy went on a shooting rampage after having pledged to punish women for not sleeping with him. Please read the story if you haven’t already, but here’s a quote from the shooter:

“College is the time when everyone experiences those things such as sex and fun and pleasure, but in those years I’ve had to rot in loneliness, it’s not fair … I don’t know why you girls aren’t attracted to me but I will punish you all for it.”

Yes, it’s misogynist. But there’s a very particular type of misogyny that this represents, and I feel like it is becoming  more common. There’s an old-school prudish misogyny that is often the preserve of darkly religious types: a fear of women with their soft bodies and their Eve-like temptation, who will compel men to sin because we’re wicked and evil and beautiful and charming. There are a million and one reasons why that type of misogyny is terrifying and awful. I think this type of misogyny is different, though. No less terrifying, but different. And I want to explain why.

First category misogyny

What makes the shooter – and many other pick-up artists/men’s rights type people – stand out from the old-school, ‘fear of women’ misogynists, is the fact that he doesn’t hate women because they might tempt him into sex, he hates women because he thinks he deserves to have sex with them.

Many people have expressed a worry that he is looking on sex as something in category two – an absolute right. Equally you could read some of his chilling pronouncements on women and think he sees sex as a category one thing – something that, if he follows a certain set of rules, should be handed to him on a plate. Like an A grade. Like a decent meal. Like something he has earned.

The problem is, of course, that sex is not a right at all – earned or absolute. It isn’t like an A grade. No matter how hard you work, what rules you follow, or how desperately you want it, you are never entitled to sex.

The right to refuse

The obvious reason is clear: you never have a right  to sex (absolute or earned) because there’s a much more important human right that trumps it: the right to bodily autonomy. You would only be able to exercise any ‘right’ to sex if you removed someone else’s right to refuse it. That’s not going to happen, and naturally no decent person would ever want it to. Your rights can never come at the expense of someone else’s.

Hence why it’s obvious that sex never falls into category two – it’s not a human right.

Necessary versus sufficient

The slightly less obvious point, that seems to be made less frequently, is that sex cannot possibly fall into category one (earned rights), because there are no conditions you could ever fulfil that would be sufficient to ‘earn’ you some sex. We know that there are certain things that are necessary in order to have sex, but we often confuse the difference between ‘necessary’ and ‘sufficient’. Necessary conditions: things you absolutely have to do in order to put yourself in the running for something. Sufficient: something that – on its own – is enough to guarantee you that thing. The difference between ‘necessary’ and ‘sufficient’ conditions is vital, often confused, and frequently ignored.

Let’s go back to the A grade again. In order to get it you need to write all the correct answers. That’s a necessary condition. But it’s not sufficient – if you write down all of the correct answers but don’t hand your paper in on time, you no more deserve the A than you deserve to fly to the moon.

The problem with a lot of the discourse around sex is that many many people confuse necessary and sufficient conditions – they know that they should treat someone nicely if they want to have sex with them, then they make the erroneous leap of assuming that because they’ve been nice they have somehow earned the sex.

That’s the key difference between sex and an A grade: although there absolutely is a set of necessary conditions, you can fulfil every single one of them and it can still not be sufficient.

It’s not just the bad guys

The reason I’m writing this, rather than any other blog, today is because I wanted to pin down the problem beyond just my general rage and discomfort. I could talk about misogynist extremism, and how it’s wrong for men to think they are ‘entitled’ to sex. I could rage out about the prevalence of men who hate women and the easy excuses we try to give them when what they’re saying is awful and unforgivable. But the vast majority of men would respond with “so what? I don’t feel like I’m entitled to anything. I’m not like those other guys.”

And sure, most men aren’t going to shoot women because of an openly-held belief that they have a right to women’s bodies. But many people do make the mistake of assuming that – if you have fulfilled a certain set of necessary conditions, then that in itself is sufficient to have earned some sex. It’s incredibly apparent in so much of our discourse, and being able to formulate exactly why it’s wrong (beyond the statement ‘it’s hateful’) means we can apply it to broader scenarios, and explain to people exactly what it is about their attitude towards sex that needs to change. Most people don’t relate to the bad guys, but most people are influenced by these common mistaken beliefs.

Whether it’s problem pages that tell you how to ‘get’ your partner to fulfil your fantasies, pick-up artists (or agony aunts/uncles) that tell you a certain set of rules will guarantee you get laid, or telling someone that their partner is being unfair when they don’t do a particular thing: we talk like this a lot. And we need to stop.

If you think you have never been guilty of these assumptions, think again. While considering examples for this blog post, I came up with a fair few times when people I know and like have been guilty of this error one point or another. In fact, I am sure that I have – when sympathising with friends who have been recently rejected by someone they’ve tried really hard to impress, for instance. I’ve probably done it here occasionally too – while I will never tell you that you deserve sex from someone, I do sometimes offer advice on how to encourage someone to fulfil your fantasies without adding that extra caveat: ‘you can try this, but you might still fail, because no one is ever obliged to do what you want.’

So no, men aren’t all buying guns and getting ready to shoot women: but it’s not really helpful to state that as a response to this particular incident. A more complicated and urgent truth is that we often discuss sex as if it’s an earned right, that you achieve by fulfilling a set of conditions. And while you do need to fulfil certain conditions in order to have sex with someone, assuming these conditions are sufficient as well as necessary is incredibly dangerous.

We’re not all picking up guns, but many of us are discussing sex as if it’s a just reward for hard work. An earned right. An A grade.

Earlier this week, something bizarre and horrible popped up in my facebook feed: the Metro’s list of “27 things men do in bed that women hate.” That link goes via DoNotLink, so shouldn’t give them traffic.

The article in question lists 27 things which women hate men doing in bed. Normally I’d expect an article like this to raise my hackles because it would probably tick off a few things that I bloody LOVE guys doing in bed but which don’t happen to float everyone’s boat. It’d be the universal generalisations that get me, and I’d probably give it a quick mention in passing, before stamping off to get enraged at HuffPo’s shit dating advice or something.

On this occasion, however, it was far worse than that.

Normally I’d write an angry, sweary rant about how appalling it is in the hope I could whip enough people up into outrage that they’d kick off about it. But I’m very tired and very ill and far too late to make a significant difference with this, so I’m kicking myself. A couple of people asked me to write it up, though, and I feel like perhaps a voice or two shouting into the ether might help a tiny bit in getting the message across that this is totally unacceptable, so here goes.

 The following content comes with a massive trigger warning.

Things not to do in bed because they’re annoying

There are some things in the article I agree with – things that guys have done with me in the past, and I can understand why they might be irritating to some. These include such side-splitting classics as:

“When you’re on top and they’re just staring at you and it’s like, ahhh what face do I pull?”

and

“Trying to remove underwear with their teeth.”

I’m quite partial to the latter, but I can see why it grates on people. I’ll still quibble about the idea that all men should stop doing it ever, but in principle there’s nothing appalling about this. Unfortunately, in its other tips, this Metro list takes a turn for the much more fucking appalling.

Things not to do in bed because they’re assault

These are all direct quotes from the article, sold alongside the points above. Sold as ‘irritating’ behaviour at worst. Presented as tricks that women have cottoned on to, and which they laugh about with their mates while wishing you’d just cut it out:

“Pulling your hair so hard you scream and your eyes water.”

“Being so aggressive with their hands during foreplay that they pretty much give you internal bleeding and bruising.”

What. The. Fuck.

These things are not annoying, as the article presents them. They are assault.

Now, as one who engages in BDSM activity a lot, it would be remiss of me not to mention that I play like this quite frequently. I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt that within the context of a trusting relationship, in which I am consenting, and in which my partner fully understands what I love him to do, neither of those specific physical actions is bad per se. However – and it’s a ‘however’ written in such gigantic flashing lights that you can see it from the fucking moon – this is not stuff that it is ever OK to just surprise your partner with. And, like any other sexual behaviour, it is never ever OK to keep doing it after your partner has indicated they don’t like it.

If you accidentally pull someone’s hair too hard: that sucks. If you deliberately pull someone’s hair so hard that their eyes water, if it is something that they explicitly hate and especially – as is heavily implied by the title of the article – you do it repeatedly?  Then that is assault, and you are an appalling, horrible gutter-scraping of a person.

You know this already, of course, but Metro clearly doesn’t, because it gets worse.

Things not to do in bed because they’re rape

“Casually trying to have anal sex without asking and without lube. It does not just slip in there.”

Yeah, that says what you think it says. Again, here’s the thing: I’m up for my partner having a go (although not without lube – he understands the laws of physics and realises that friction there isn’t sexy at all), but only because I have fucking told him I am. He understands what I like and what I don’t, roughly when I like it (and how), and because we have had lots of conversations before about the fact that I bloody love it when he slips my knickers down and lubes me up.

Most importantly, he knows all the signs I give that mean I’m not up for it on a particular occasion. The only reason I can trust him to play in the way we both enjoy, and the one reason I trust him to fuck me in the arse, is because on countless occasions in the past he has recognised my stop signs, abided by them, and put his fucking dick away.

There’s a subtle and nuanced debate to be had about safewords, hard play, bondage, and power exchange. I love having that debate with people here all the time. But this, Metro, is nothing like that fucking debate. It is an overt list of things that women have told you they hate, and I think in that instance you have a responsibility to present ‘unwanted sex’ not as an irritation or a frustration but as what it very plainly is – rape.

Things not to do in bed that you might not have realised were offensive

Here’s a more subtle one: can you spot it? Having listed the many different ways in which guys can ‘annoyingly’ assault girls, they throw this ‘annoying habit’ in:

“When they just stop, and it’s like, “hello? Did you hear me orgasm?” No.”

This is something women find annoying. Fair enough: it is a bit annoying. But the implication here is that men should stop doing that, and I’m afraid to say that is just not an OK thing to ask of someone. Why? Well, the speaker is essentially saying that it’s not OK to stop during sex if your partner hasn’t come yet. Still not sure why that’s dodgy? Let’s gender-flip this bad boy:

“Man, I was having sex with my girlfriend the other day and she stopped halfway through. I hadn’t come. How annoying. Obviously she’s obliged not to stop before I’ve come.”

Unfortunately, no matter how annoying it is not to come during sex, and how selfish it might be if a regular partner doesn’t put in the requisite effort to make you come, they are never obliged to continue having sex with you. No matter what their gender. No matter whether you’ve orgasmed yet. No matter how close you might be. Anyone has the right to withdraw their consent at any time. I shouldn’t have to say this.

Things not to write in the paper because they’re irresponsible

The Metro claims that the points on their list came when they ‘threw the question out to facebook.’ I’ve looked at their facebook page and can find no trace of them asking this question, so I’m a bit curious as to whether they asked, then deleted the answers. But that’s by the by.

The fact is that if you ask people what they ‘hate’ their partner doing in bed, and you’re fishing for amusing anecdotes, you have a responsibility not to lump assault in with those roll-in-the-aisle gags. You’ll make it look like it is merely an inconvenience – something that just happens to people, and to which the best response is a giggle, an eye-roll, or a quick click of the ‘share this article’ button.

The vast majority of men aren’t ignorant of these issues, but in publishing this you might make some men think it’s OK to surprise their partner with anal that she expressly doesn’t want. You might give more people the idea that their partner has an obligation to make them come. And you may well give women the impression that they should just put up with physical assault, and cross their fingers in the hope that their scum partner happens to chance across a Buzzfeed-style list of sex tips and eventually check his shit behaviour.

If you want some more informed advice on these issues, visit Rape Crisis, or any of these places that give support for men and boys.

I think words are hotter than pictures. Words are spectacular things which, if you can bend them to your will, can make someone pant with desire or puke with disgust. Not everyone agrees: some people prefer images or films, but for me nothing quite competes with words.

Sad, then, that despite the fact most of us have devices in our pockets to send filthy words to lovers whenever we like, so many people forget the power that words have, and end up throwing out any old shit that just happens to be in the ‘dirty’ bit of the dictionary.

Today’s guest blog comes from a blogger after my own heart – SeasideSlut explains what dirty words do to her, how to use them best, and – crucially – how not to sext. If you like her post (and why the hell wouldn’t you?) check out her blog and follow her on Twitter for more.

Why sexting is hot (and how to sext well)

I’m an avid bookworm and lover of language, so I am very appreciative of the beauty and power of words. Combine that with my filthy nature and you get an overflowing porn bookshelf and a serious weakness for a well crafted ‘sext’.

When I was 16 I used to regularly buy and sell secondhand CDs from a mail order firm, and somehow managed to graduate from a friendly covering note to lengthy, explicit exchanges with the guy who ran the company. It was such a thrill opening the latest parcel to see what he’d written and I’d tantalise myself by re-reading his notes over and over. It emerged that he was more than twice my age and married, so it never went further than that. But ever since I’ve regularly used my imagination and vocabulary to get people off, and often they kindly reciprocate.

For me, the key is paying attention to the details, because it makes the image you’re trying to create so much more tangible. Which is more erotic?

“I want you to put your cock in my vagina LOLZ!”

or

“I’m lying on my back, stroking my slippery pussy lips apart right now, thinking about you. I want to trace my bare foot over your chest, watch your nipples harden, stroke them with my toes. I want to watch as your cock head slowly eases into my tight, hot little hole; listen to you groan as you push all the way in… my cunt is aching to be stretched and filled by your delicious hard dick, I bet it feels so fucking good…”

Of course there are pitfalls. You can’t see or hear your correspondent’s reaction to your messages. They might be eating their dinner or trimming their toenails while you imagine them writhing in lustful paroxysms. They might respond with a exasperated tut to the 50th cock picture you’ve sent them, rather than the moist glee you hope for. Or you might say something that actively turns them off and because you can’t see their look of horror/disgust/boredom, you carry on down that ill-chosen smut avenue and just make it worse for yourself.

I’ll take this opportunity to share with you some choice sexts I’ve received – these are of the unsolicited chat up variety from male admirers (spelling mistakes left intact):

“Do you have any Celtic interests, dark arts or any connections with north Spain, the Kings of Europe or romatic inclinations outside of the norm? Who knows where we may have met before.”

“hi i like tits”

“I quite like the way you’ve shaved your delectable cunt in a kind of Hitler style, it’d be worth the occasional journey to inspect it. I’d like to try and velcro various items to it as well, then pump you hard from behind, ripping them off at the moment of mutual orgasm, with the inimitable sound increasing the satisfaction beyond all measure.”

“Hey babe I know I’m young but I just want to say I thing your gorgeous for your age look at most 34 year olds they te ugly as guck and you aren’t babe xx”

“when I look at you I see a horny slutty cunt who needs a rock hard cock, I want you grinding my cock while I suck, bite & nibble on your big tits. But when it comes down to it, I might not be able to carry it out. That is why I prefer to do and not say what I will do.”

“do you work? my guess – a Model for lads mags? ;-)”

…I could go on. I don’t suggest that sexting is an alternative to experiencing the reality (although sometimes it can suggest a reality that will never actually exist). But I do think it’s important to remember that the brain is the biggest sex organ we all have, and by exercising it we can achieve unbelievable pleasure. If that wasn’t true, why would I repeatedly orgasm while I dream, with no physical stimulation at all?

So there you go – SeasideSlut‘s guide to sexting. I couldn’t agree more that brains are sexy. Although I’ve never been as confident on sexting as she clearly is, so I’m going to practice composing a sext or two of my own. If there’s one thing sexier than a brain, in my opinion, it’s using my brain to give a guy an erection on his way home from work. If you’ve any sexting suggestions, leave a comment. Crowdsourced boners are a good thing, right?

Yesterday, I blogged in the Guardian about crap relationship advice – there’s a mountain of it out there, often backed up by  poor arguments, pseudosciencey ‘facts’ and anecdotal evidence.

However, because I am a clumsy arse, I spectacularly failed to mention that not everyone is spouting bullshit – just as pseudoscience is irritating in opposition to real science, so there is good relationship advice to contrast with the bad. There are some people out there who give fantastic advice, based on genuine evidence, expertise and empathy. To try and rectify my clumsiness, here are a few fantastic people who know what they’re talking about, and won’t give you any crap about Rules, Game, or Ten Ways To Blow His Mind In The Sack…

Dr Petra

Dr Petra is a social psychologist – she writes a blog about sex and relationships, and advice columns in places like the Telegraph. Her advice is non-judgmental and evidence-based, and if you head to her website you’ll also find lots more links to good info sources.

Her recent blog about how one goes about getting involved in sex research strikes me as the sort of thing you might like to join in with. She also picks up on a lot of the bad science in sex.

Meg Barker

Meg’s site – ‘Rewriting the Rules‘ – is a source of fantastic advice too. I find anything Meg writes on gender particularly helpful – I am pretty clumsy and unsure on the topic, and Meg has taught me many things. If you’re a newbie to this topic too, this article on non-binary gender is a good place to start.

Bish

His advice is mostly for young ‘uns, but there is a hell of a lot of stuff on his website that I – as an adult human who has had a lot of sex – still didn’t know. He taught me that what I had previously believed about hymens was inaccurate, introduced me to cute ethical stickman porn, and is one of those rare people who can give you advice without ever making you feel bad for needing it.

Sense about sex

It’s like sense about science, but for sex – need I say more? I will anyway – this is also the source of Bad Sex Media Bingo, which you should keep by the telly so you can tick off the examples of media sex bullshit next time Channel 4 does a documentary on wanking.

This list isn’t exhaustive – from the comments on the Guardian article, I’ve already added OnePlusOne and Annalise Barbieri to my list of things/people to read in future. If you have other recommendations to add, please do drop a link in the comments! Then the next time I write an article about this stuff, I can remember to link to the good, rather than just rant about the bad.

So, here’s an odd statement, which the guy who emailed me was kind enough to allow me to publish:

I sometimes want to try things out – I have zero or little experience and I worry about that. Would be wrong to use a girl as just like to practise on and improve?

The word ‘practice’ bothers me, and not just because of its context-dependent spelling of ‘s’ or ‘c’. This gentleman was asking, after my article on virginity, whether it was OK to find someone to practise sexual things with (kissing, oral, and other delicious non-penis-focused activity) without having to have actual sex.

The answer to this question is a wholehearted ‘yes’, but also a wholehearted ‘no’, because of the way it was phrased.

Not having sex is totally fine

If you meet someone and want to do sexy things but without having what you’d class as ‘full sex’ (i.e. train goes in tunnel) then that is not only fine but, if the other person you’re with is a fan of kissing, oral, frotting, etc, utterly delightful. There’s a deep and gutwrenching joy in having things that aren’t ‘full sex’, and although I am personally a bit of a penetration fetishist (I find it hard to get off if I’m not being pounded, or at least under promise of being pounded in the very near future), there are hundreds of other things that are fun.

However, the word ‘practice’, makes me shudder with discomfort, because it implies some things that make me sceptical of how you actually feel about your partner.

There is no sex Olympics

The key question, really, is what are you practising for? Is there some sex competition that I didn’t know you could enter? Are there skills and techniques you need to know in order to pass a shagging exam? Is this hard work going to pay off ten years down the line when you meet someone who refuses to sleep with you unless she can see your Doctorate in lovemaking? No? Then what you’re doing isn’t practice.

It’s an uncomfortable word because usually we practise on something that isn’t the real thing. We learn to drive with supervision, in cars that have a spare set of pedals so our instructor can slam the brakes on when we almost power headlong into a roundabout (and Colin, if you’re reading this, I’m really bloody sorry). We practise exam questions on past test papers. Above all, the results of our ‘practice’ don’t really matter, because the marks aren’t real or final.

But in bed, the person you’re with is real. They have real nerve endings, real emotions and desires. To reduce them to a GCSE test paper, in which the marks (i.e. their feelings) don’t really matter sounds deeply disrespectful. This, coupled with the word ‘use’ was what gave me shudders in this guy’s email.

There’s nothing wrong with having consensual sex fun with someone that doesn’t involve penetration, but there is definitely something wrong with viewing any individual sexual partner as just a stepping stone towards the amazing sex that you’ll eventually have with someone else. Heavily implied there is ‘better’. You practice on the not-quite-real person, then have better sex with someone… well… better.

Eww.

Sex practice doesn’t make perfect

Most importantly, the idea of practice implies that if you do enough of it you’ll eventually become ‘good’. This is one of those bullshit beliefs we hold because so many advice columns, sex books, and articles about ‘Ten Ways To Blow Her Mind In Bed’ insist on peddling the myth that everyone likes the same thing. That you can be, objectively, a ‘good shag’. This – and I cannot stress this enough – is bollocks.

Sometimes you’ll have sex with someone for the first time, and loads of your trademark moves will genuinely blow their mind. They’ll sigh, and writhe, and moan in delight as you rub, lick, suck, and fuck them into a glorious and delicious climax. But this is rare. Most of the time you’ll do some things they like, some things they love, and many things that make them want to say ‘left a bit’, ‘a bit softer’, ‘no, wait, a bit harder’ until you do something exactly the way they like it.

I’ve slept with a fair few guys as well as a few girls. Each and every one of them was slightly different, with some of them doing things in ways I’d never have anticipated but turned out to love. Others did things that worked well for their previous partners but turned me right off. I’m sure the same is true of what they thought of me, and generally with those people I was with for longer, we got better at pleasing the other one and knowing what they wanted. No amount of practice can prepare you as well as the knowledge that everyone’s different. So practice doesn’t make perfect – it doesn’t even make ‘good’ – the best revision you can do is to talk to the person you’re with, and listen when they tell you what they like.

Don’t ‘use’ anyone

You don’t owe it to any hypothetical future partner to be the best you can be in bed. It’s not the case that you can pick people who don’t matter to help you perfect your techniques so that you can wow the love of your life at some point. Firstly because the love of your life may well want something completely different, secondly because whoever you’re practicing with may turn out to be the love of your life, and finally because it’s just a shitty thing to do. If I had wild and sticky sex with someone and subsequently found out that they were just ‘using’ me for ‘practice’, I’d kick them out of bed before you could say ‘I am not an unfeeling shag-robot.’

I don’t think this guy is deliberately being mean, or callous. After a few emails back and forth I think he’s just under the impression that he needs to be the best he can be. But you can be at your best not by learning techniques or practising your cunnilingus skills, but by being empathetic, caring and considerate of what your partner needs and wants. Not a hypothetical future partner – the one you’re with in exactly that moment.