When I figured out my sexuality, I obviously wanted to go off and explore things, and by things I mean the crotches of other women. But while my cousins had access to The Joy of Sex and its impressive array of 1970s pubic-hair sculpting, all I had was some vague understanding about objects going into holes and a surprisingly helpful monotype-font guide from 1995.
In other words, most of my lesbian sexual knowledge had to be reverse-engineered from heterosexual sex, or acquired from firsthand "research" in the field. While that probably sounds like fun, access to even just some goddamned line drawings might have reduced the rip-roaring case of carpal tunnel syndrome I have now. Hell, the quintessential lesbian sex act is scissoring, and I thought that was an urban myth until I actually saw a picture (even now I'm pretty sure it's a practical joke designed by the gods of sex to see how many women will accidentally kick each other in the nose in the throes of bliss).
Sure, no one really knows what they're doing their first time, but while straight people can at least take some hints from that one time they rented Original Sin while their parents were out of town, gay people pretty much have to make it up as they go. Googling "sex advice for lesbians" is hilariously useless; all you get is tips for men on how to make love to women using lesbian techniques, because apparently the best way to learn to have lesbian sex is to have sex with a man who has learned how to have heterosexual sex from a lesbian.