If there's one universal truth in literature it's that anyone attempting to write an instruction manual for the vagina loses his or her mind. Here are four sexual self-help books that support that theory. Be warned: a lot of this advice is as racy as it is unhelpful.
by Yvonne K. Fulbright, PhD, $11.95
I didn't expect a woman's guide to oral sex to be 176 pages long. I figured it would say Prologue: Keep your teeth off it. Denouement: You've made quite a mess. A dong isn't very hard to figure out. If you called an instruction book on blowjobs Friction and Enthusiasm it would spoil the ending.
I'm not saying there's no difference between best oral sex and worst oral sex. But it's a small gap and only something you complain about if you're completely out of real problems. People are dying in Libya, so give the poor girl a break if poking her in the face isn't going exactly as planned.
You're probably asking, "If blowjobs are so easy, I have two questions. One, if that's true, why do unattractive women always brag about how good they are at giving head? And two: if oral sex is so simple, what the hell does this book talk about for 176 pages?" I'll answer both your questions. One: that unattractive woman is just trying to sleep with you. Don't make her beg. And two: Oh my god, this book is like a medical doctor throwing up on your balls.
This isn't a delightful sexual romp through fun positions you and your partner can try. The detailed, clinical descriptions for every fleshy bulge on a man's body will make a woman never want any part of you in her mouth again. Did you know that doctors have a real name for the area under your balls? Perineum. That sounds like something you would detect right before you evacuate an office building. And it just gets grosser. There's a chapter on ball smell. Not so much about how to prevent it-- only that it exists. There are tips to avoid choking on pubic hair, and I'll never repeat any of them. This horrible book makes me want to write a letter to every girl I ever got to third base with to apologize for everything, especially all the perineum.
One fun feature is the extensive sexual dictionary in the back for people who, after hundreds of pages, still aren't clear on the definition of things like Butt Plug or Frenulum. I appreciated that they included simple ones too, just in case:
I know what you're thinking: "Wait, that's what a penis is? You mean that whole book was about putting that in my mouth!?" I'm afraid so. I even looked it up in my superhero Super Dictionary. Unfortunately, my Super Dictionary was apparently written before "Penis" was invented. The closest word it had was "peanut."
So while I still might not be clear on what a penis is or who that soon-to-be-dead man is that keeps hitting Hawkman with peanuts, I do know how to keep both of them from suffocating me thanks to the chapter on circular breathing techniques the author borrowed from oboe players and applied to blowjobs. Although I don't think you really need to tell a person to breathe through his or her nose while there's a dick in their mouth. Phil Collins has been singing about that for decades. In your fac-oh, heavenly fuck, what the shit is this thing?
I don't have a PhD in wang science, but that is clearly a robot designed for tunneling under its victims. It is not safe to rub on a human perineum. Does your hedonism run so deep that you need to risk yanking chunks of our genitals off with a rotating wheel of "velvety tongues"? That's how the muppets died, you monster. That's how the muppets died.
by Yvonne K. Fulbright, PhD, $11.95
This book is two pages shorter than the one about going down on men, despite the fact that there are 917 parts to a vulva, and 214 of them reset a woman's sex drive when you touch them. There's the Labia Minora, the Clitoral Hood, dozens of squirting glands, the Mons Pubis... it's confusing. Especially since I think a lot of these vagina parts were named Walrus Man when I was a kid.
This book is nearly identical to the one about going down on men in that it makes oral sex sound as erotic as dissecting an earthworm. By the time you finish, you'll think that cunnilingus is a painful way to stink up your face. There's a chapter that has diet tips for giving her womanly parts a "scrumptuous" and "tangier" flavor in pursuit of "becoming a fine-dining experience." Why would you even talk like that unless you wanted someone to puke up your birth canal? I'm almost positive that Yvonne K. Fulbright, PhD is working for The Council to Convince Me That Geysers of Rats Might Pour Out of Vaginas.