Getting What You Want

Let’s break communication down into two components: What we want to say, and how we want to say it.

The first involves all the things we cover in this book: Each specific thing you might want, like, desire, or don’t want to do is a piece of the puzzle that is you. When you communicate, you’re helping somebody understand your own individuality—your specific user’s manual. There are jillions of sex-related specifics you might want to convey to someone, though it’s your choice what to tell a person and under what circumstances. Maybe you’d rather wait until things get hot and heavy. Maybe you talk about your sexuality once you’re dating but before you get sexual. Maybe you convey important things about your sexuality right up front, to be sure you are talking to someone who’s potentially compatible. If you have an ongoing relationship with someone, you might likely say more, in greater detail, than you would during a one-night stand. On the other hand, some people find it far easier to talk in detail about sex with someone they don’t expect to see again—it’s like telling your life story to a person you meet on the train. All of these are options that might make it easier to talk to another person, but you do have to talk: a partner will not always know what you want and don’t want. They can’t read your mind. You will not get the sexual experiences you wish, and respond best to, unless you facilitate them by sharing information.

How we say it—whatever “it” is—involves several elements: timing, as in when we say it; emotions—the feelings we convey, and how it feels to talk about our sexual truth; and lastly, what we specifically say. Let’s delve into these elements now. First, the words.

Sexual terms are the building blocks of sexual communication, but not everyone feels comfortable referring to body parts and sex acts out loud. Sexual communication often stops before it starts not because someone doesn’t know what to say, but because they just can’t bring themselves to speak the words. This is a stumbling block you can overcome, and there are two main steps: (1) determine what kind of language you’re comfortable with; and (2) practice.

Are you more comfortable with scientific words than four-letter dirty talk? It’s okay to sound like a professor in bed as long as you can make yourself understood, even if you secretly wish you could swear like a sailor. If you’ve already gotten in touch with your inner pirate, the old Anglo-Saxon terms could be the words that help you speak clearly. Dirty words they may still be to many English-speakers, but words like cunt, cock, and fuck have a venerable history.

Some people find that Tantric language, with words borrowed from Sanskrit, is easier to use than the sex talk of their own culture, and others develop their own unique euphemisms. The latter is fine, as long as the person you’re talking to knows the secret code. In general, you should be able to have at least one word you favor for each relevant body part you might want to discuss, and for the sex acts as well. Maybe you have a two-tiered system: If you’re taking a walk in the park or talking over dinner, you might use terms that are less raunchy than those you’d say in bed.

So—what are your words?

The next step, if you’re nervous about using sexually-specific language in the presence of another person, is to practice. If you can’t say a word out loud to a partner or a friend, say it in the shower. Say it in the car. Say it when you’re home alone making dinner. Say it when you masturbate. Now put it in a sentence, and practice some more.

Next, figure out ways to incorporate these terms into conversations that are not loaded—in other words, when you’re just talking, not trying to communicate something important to someone. Find non-self-revealing contexts: talking with friends or acquaintances, strangers you’re chatting with at a bar, people with whom you are not sexually intimate. The news is full of sex: every time a congressman tweets a photo from his shower you have an opportunity to say “penis” and associated synonyms. People all across the country talk about these news items, and you can, too. Just think about when it is or isn’t appropriate to do so, which can be related to your safety: too much sex talk at work is often a no-no, while talking about cocks to the wrong stranger on the bus might invite, or make you appear to be, a stalker. But with your gal pals, or your after-work ballgame buddies? More than likely there are options for plenty of sex talk that isn’t sexually motivated or coded, and this helps you get comfortable so that you can up the ante with a partner.

And of course you can have these sorts of chatty conversations with your significant other too, even if you can’t bring yourself to open your mouth to ask for something specific in bed. Just keep practicing; it will get easier.

Speaking of doing it in bed: Don’t. Well, do, but first do it in a less sexually charged place. That’s where walking in the park comes in, or the dinner date, or the car trip. Ask whether it’s a good time to discuss intimate stuff. Tell your person that you’ve made a resolution to talk more comfortably about sex, and that you want their support and participation. Many partners will jump at this, and they are likely the person to whom you have the most to say. Ease into it and gauge your comfort level as you go.

Are we giving too many “baby steps” while you’re just raring to run? If you feel great about the way you’re communicating, even if you’re newly dating someone, you might not even be reading this chapter. If you have already been seeing someone, and suddenly start swearing like a late-night comedian without giving your lover a heads-up, they could rightfully be confused or judgmental. By suggesting you go step by step in revealing your interests we hope to help you avoid embarrassment or relationship tension.

There’s a sex education tool developed by Cynthia Slater that can be a big help with sexual conversations. It’s called The Three Lists, and it can help you think about your desires and limits, express your unique sexual profile, and then discuss it with others. Here’s how it works:

Yes, Maybe, and No Lists

Yes, No, and Maybe: Write these headlines across the top of a sheet of paper. Draw vertical lines to separate the three columns. Under the Yes column, write down all the things you know you like and want when you have sex, or that you are pretty sure you would want, if you ever got the chance. This should add up to a basic description of your desires.

The Maybe column includes things you want, but only under certain circumstances. It doesn’t matter what those contingencies are—it only matters that you might want to do these things, if certain conditions were met. Some examples: If you loved the person, if you really trusted them, if they used a condom, if you weren’t having your period, if you had plenty of time… there are a million possible ifs. And they’re all important, for these are the elements that help you determine whether you feel safe and comfortable about any particular activity.

Finally, the No column is just that: the place to list things you know you don’t want to do, even once for curiosity’s sake. Those are your limits and boundaries.

Ideally, you will be able to communicate the above, if the opportunity or need should arise. These are among the most important building blocks of every sexual experience, of every sex life. Even if you’re not ready to talk about all of it, you can look at this list and prioritize what’s most crucial to convey: the things you don’t want to experience, the things that make a sexual encounter pleasurable and successful for you. Perhaps later those complex Maybe items can also be put on the table.

Use this list not just as a template for sex talk, but also as a Know Thyself tool. Most of us have never been encouraged to think about our desires and limits clearly and overtly; especially if sex seems overwhelming or confusing, it can be a big help to spell it out for ourselves, and a great help—not to mention empowering—to own what we like and don’t like. Please note that you can change the list in the future if you decide some of your Maybe activities are fun all the time, or that you might be open to trying something that was on your No list—but you don’t need to think ahead about this possibility when you’re making the list for the first time. Be here now! And be honest with yourself, for this is first and foremost a tool to help you.

Here’s what you definitely do want to consider now: Some variables can make the boundaries between the Yes, No, and Maybe columns permeable: when people are drunk or high, since consent and setting firm boundaries can be an issue when people are too inebriated; when people are really turned on; and when people are in love, or highly infatuated. Maybe activities can slide into the Yes list, while No activities can become Maybe items under these circumstances. This is important to remember because it may help you understand when you’ve entered territory that can include slippery terrain, boundary-wise. Love is not a condom; being horny isn’t birth control; and if you wouldn’t want to have sex with a particular person when you’re sober, do you really want to do them drunk? Remember, know thyself!

Your Yes/No/Maybe list is a great start—but try making it again after you’ve gotten really turned on and masturbated almost to orgasm. Make another list at that point—it helps you compare your sexual self-contracts when in an altered sexual state. You might find this changes a lot; similarly, so does being inebriated.

Knowing yourself is so important because, in the end, you’re responsible for yourself and the sexual decisions you make. There is no more important person in your sex life than you. We don’t mean that if something non-consensual happens to you, you caused it. We do mean that it’s your responsibility to soberly consider what you want and don’t want, own your sexual beliefs and values, and get information that will help guide your actions. Your fantasies, arousal, and orgasms are your own, even if it sometimes seems that someone else set them off. Your sexuality is yours. And while maybe your Prince or Princess will someday come, you are not at the mercy of fate to wait for them before you can enjoy your eroticism—nor must you be at the mercy of their whims should they arrive.

That means not only that you can make the decision to pleasure yourself, and determine what your standards are when it comes to dating or hooking up, it also means you can take care of yourself—in fact, you must. You may have different ideas about what safe sex is than romantic partners or playmates do; you may need to do some work to get over shame or past bad experiences; you may need to evaluate a relationship with a clear eye and realize you’re not getting enough respect. You may need to rely on trust, not of a partner but of your parents, your best friend, your gut: If someone is telling you to have safe sex, or to speak up about your pleasure, or reveal to a partner that you hate a particular sex act—then listen to them, at least when you know they’re genuinely concerned with your welfare. You can certainly get support for all these things, but ultimately, the behavior is yours, part of your own journey.

Intimacy can give rise to profound feelings of caretaking, which can be beautiful at times, though every relationship must find its own balance of intimate connection and independence. But sometimes, people yearn for someone else to take the reins because they don’t have the confidence to do it themselves. When we’re not inclined to take responsibility, sometimes it’s because we have never been given the message that we’re capable. Low self-esteem can become entwined with romantic dreams, the urge to submit, or the feeling that fate will do with us what it will—and then it becomes harder for us to own our decisions and take responsibility for them.

Women don’t always take responsibility for their sexuality because they’re taught it’s a man’s job. Others believe, in some cases for religious or cultural reasons, that it’s a woman’s appropriate role to submit. One of our friends tells us, “I was in a threesome once with a married couple and stunned by their sex dynamics—he was really in charge, not as play, and she was so clearly the object on which he expressed his sexuality.”

By the way, when we mention submission in this context, it is not to say that all people who respond erotically to submission do so out of low self-esteem or an inability to take responsibility for themselves—far from it! See BDSM for much more on this erotic preference.

Desire + Safety = Free-Flowing Pleasure

If Desire and Safety could have a baby, its first name would be Boundless and its last name would be Pleasure!

This entire book discusses turn-ons and pleasure. Regarding turn-ons: Of course there are specific sex acts we might love (any oral sex aficionados in the house? Spanking fans?). Turn-ons can include body parts—spying a nice bulge or good cleavage, or the beautiful curve of someone’s neck. This also includes the question of who turns you on: One gender or both? Redheads or shaved heads? It might also involve some questions about context, like, “I only want a monogamous relationship” or “I like privacy—I don’t want everyone knowing my business.” If you made a thorough list of what you want in the context of sex and relationship and even added in things you’re pretty sure you’d like, if only you could try them, it might be a very long list indeed.

Turn-ons and pleasure: Pleasure, which is hopefully the result or culmination of desire, requires relaxation—in some cases we mean literal physical relaxation, as with comfortable, pleasurable anal sex, for example—and also in the sense of not having to be “on guard.” That’s what we are calling safety here. Even if you are feeling sexual tension, it’s hard to relax if you are worried—whether that’s being worried about your physical safety, being made fun of, or unwanted pregnancy. Think of the many meanings of “safety” that could be on your mind, or even in the back of your mind: pregnancy, HIV and STI prevention; avoiding non-consensual acts like abuse, attack, rape; maintaining your privacy and reputation; and emotional aspects like feeling trust—do I trust you to see me naked?, avoiding embarrassment or humiliation—will I be ridiculed if I don’t have sex like a porn star?, and our need for being treated with respect and honesty.

That’s a lot. You may not even be certain at this point what you like and what you don’t. You may still be in the process of discovery. But you likely have some idea or fantasy about what you’d like to experience and, too, some ideas about what you hope to avoid: in other words, some desires and some boundaries.

So you could boil this down to the things you want, and the things you don’t want, since if you experience things you don’t want, that can impact your ability to feel safe enough to enjoy sex at all.

There are two important ways to deal with these wants and don’t-wants in real life: You need enough information—hello, that’s why this book exists!—and you need to be able to communicate on the basis of what you know, what you want to know, what you desire, and what you don’t want to experience. Information is power—even if someone has never had a single sexual experience.

Communication is targeted power: It’s how you become an agent of your own pleasure and safety, how you negotiate for what you want, how you find out whether the person in front of you is a good match for you.

So Many Kinds of Safe Sex

Sexual safety means many different things: barriers or not, contraceptive decisions, avoiding—or recovering from—abuse and sexual violence, and expressing your sexuality in an interpersonal context where you feel respected, valued, and safe. There’s no one definition of a healthy relationship, whether it’s life-long or brief. To be safe, in the context we’re discussing here, all parties ought to feel safe enough to be themselves, feel secure within the parameters of the relationship, whatever those are, communicate clearly, give consent, and be free from shaming and humiliation around one’s sexual desires, body, and abilities.

Then there’s old-school safe sex: Latex and lube, condoms and gloves. This is another facet of being a sexually active person that requires decision-making, information-gathering, and communication of boundaries: that is, taking responsibility.

It’s worth noting that having fewer partners—even being monogamous—isn’t an effective strategy unless the sex is safe, and/or the partner/s don’t have STIs in the first place. Many a monogamous partner has gotten a sexually transmitted disease in spite of their “one and only” choice; of course, when people are uninfected and mutually monogamous, risk is somewhere between very low to zero. Needless to say, both partners must be actually monogamous, not in name only, for this to be true.

There are three main pieces to constructing a safer sex lifestyle. The first is keeping up with sexual health information just as you would other kinds of health and wellness issues such as diet and exercise. Science is constantly evolving, and information changes quite often. As a result, different STIs command the public’s attention at different times. In the 1970s it was herpes; in the 1980s and ’90s, HIV/AIDS; in the 2000s much more has been learned and reported about HPV, the Human Papillomavirus. These are just a few examples of bugs that hitchhike on our bodies via our genitals. So even if you were shown some scary pictures in high school of genitals affected by syphilis, there are still updates to be considered—what’s the rate of syphilis in the population now? Is there a lot of it where you are, or where you’re planning to travel and get frisky? How are antibiotics handling new strains of this disease? For example, at this writing some types of gonorrhea have become resistant to antibiotics, but we have little doubt that could be old news by tomorrow. That’s the point.

To stay up to date as sex educators, we check in with the Centers for Disease Control and other resources to obtain recent information. We don’t rely on Internet crowd-sourced pages; however, we check in on these to see what people are saying. Some doctors know a great deal about the latest STI-related info, and some just don’t. The media can be seduced by factoids and statistics. The Internet is chock-full of information; some of it is securely grounded in research, and some is completely unreliable. The bottom line? The more informed we are in the first place, the better we will be able to evaluate each new bit of information that comes our way.

The next step is determining what all this means for you. Every sexually transmitted condition, including pregnancy, is relevant to some of us; how relevant are these to you? If you don’t have sex with other people, not much. Other than that, you need to consider the kinds of sex you’ve had and are likely to have in the future; how barrier-protected it’s been and will likely continue to be; how many partners you’ve had, have now and/or may have in the future; who your sexual partner/s are (i.e., have they likely been exposed to STIs or not); and whether there are factors in your life that make it difficult for you to know or have control over who you have sex with, or whether that sex is safe. These can include substance use issues, some sex work contexts, or whether all the sex you have or have had is consensual.

Harm reduction suggests that you can reduce your risk of unwanted pregnancy and STIs by:

OR having the kinds of sex less likely to result in STI transmission and/or pregnancy

Finally—in order to have safer sex, you have to communicate, verbally or by your behavior, that you expect it. Some people succeed in whipping out condoms and other barriers without saying a word, because they have made it clear that the condom/glove/etc. will be used, or no sex will be had. Others prefer to discuss the issue before the bedroom door opens.

We subscribe to the notion of “the most conservative partner rules”: That’s shorthand for “lovers agree to have sex that meets the standards or needs of the partner with the most conservative safer sex boundaries.” Here’s an example: Terry Doe thinks that condoms are necessary for intercourse and blowjobs but Terry’s lover, Sasha, thinks that condoms are only necessary for intercourse. Terry and Sasha use condoms for blowjobs because Terry, the most conservative partner in the scenario, gets to set the standard—there’s no physical “compromise” that makes Terry worry about safety to please Sasha. This couple could talk about it, argue about it even, but until/unless they both agree to blowjobs without condoms, they agree to the “safer” person’s wishes—the one with the more restrictive rules. This way no one’s feelings of safety or comfort are impaired and all sex is consensual, even though the less conservative partner may need to rubber up for acts they wouldn’t have otherwise. The bottom line is: Both/all partners deserve to be able to engage in the sex that feels safe to them. And guess what, less conservative partner—when your lover feels safe and taken care of, they enjoy sex more! That’s great for everyone.

This way of thinking and making decisions or setting boundaries can be relevant for more than condoms—apply it to any kind of sexual decisions: safer play, BDSM negotiations, emotional safety, and anything else that might come up. Does this mean that some people won’t get what they want in the moment? Yes, potentially. The “most conservative partner” discussion is central to people’s ability to determine how sexually compatible they are.

Safer Sex = Barrier Method

To successfully use barrier methods to avoid most STIs—and prevent pregnancy, too—you need to get familiar and comfortable with condoms, lubricants, gloves, and dental dams or plastic wrap. You also must consider how most STIs can be passed between sexual partners: this process often involves body fluids, skin rubbing on skin, and/or coming in contact with blood. Since some pathogens can transmit skin-to-skin, it’s hard to completely avoid them. Still, if you put a barrier between genitals during sex, you are going a long way toward staying safe—or at least safer.

Condoms: If your sex acts of choice involve a penis and any other orifice—or even genital rubbing without insertion—stock up on condoms. These are good for using on dildos and insertable vibrators, too. Most condoms are made of latex, though some people are sensitive to this material, which means you might prefer hypoallergenic condoms or ones made of polyurethane or polyisoprene. Condoms are much more comfortable and functional when used with lubricant. For the wearer’s comfort and sexual sensitivity, put a few drops of lube into the condom before you roll it onto the penis—if you’re putting it on a toy, it won’t care about this step—which will both allow the pleasurable sensations to be felt more acutely, but also help prevent an air bubble in the tip. Pinch the head as you roll it on so no air bubble is left at the end. You have to use a condom from the first moment a penis contacts another body, since pre-ejaculate may transfer STI microbes—and sperm. Make sure the condom doesn’t come off during intercourse, and tie it off when you’re finished to discard it in the trash, not in a toilet…unless you think your plumber is a hottie, but that’s rather nonconsensual.

Most condoms are roughly the same size, but people at the smaller and larger end of the size scale may wish to shop around and look for the best fit. If you are a good deal wider at the base, a condom might not stay on the penis without trying to roll back up; a cock ring might keep it stable. Some condoms have especially large heads, and these are more comfortable for many wearers. This type could move on the head of the penis which can feel more erotic to the wearer than a tight condom would.

“Female” or Insertive Condoms: These do not fit onto a penis, but into a vagina or anus. For those who don’t like the way traditional condoms fit, or have other problems with them, this is an option (as long as the receiver, the wearer, agrees). The wearer sometimes feels empowered that now they have control over the safe sex instead of depending on someone else to wear a condom. These insertive condoms also might increase penile sensation in an enjoyable way. They can be put in before intercourse starts; they can be used vaginally or anally, but we always recommend that you hold onto them when using them for anal intercourse so they can’t be pushed all the way inside. Beware, too, thrusting in beside the condom rather than into it.

Gloves: These are the favored safer sex gear for those in the know partly because they make manual sex play so much more comfortable. Gloves cover up rough skin and hangnails and make finger or hand insertion smooth. They not only protect the genitals from any unwanted hitchhikers on the hands; they also protect the hands from any STI organisms present on the genitals, and if sex play involves going from anus to vagina, using a separate glove for each orifice will lower the chance that some form of bacterial vaginosis will occur.

Dental Dams: These are squares of latex that act as barriers between oral-genital or oral-anal play. The dam sits against the vulva or anus and you lick it; the dam is so thin that the sensation transfers through, especially if you put lubricant on the vulva/anus side. Watch out for dropping these and beginning to lick the opposite side! Some people affix these into crotchless panties or garter belts to make them easier to handle. Other simply use plastic wrap.

Plastic Wrap: Some find plastic wrap an improvement over dams for a few reasons: It is clear, and you can more easily see where you’re aiming your tongue; you can tear a much larger sheet of it off the roll, even long enough to wrap around the whole genital area, which keeps the plastic from sliding away; and it clings to the skin better than latex does. Some people have heard that microwaveable plastic wrap isn’t safe to use as a barrier method because it has larger pores than the regular kind; the worry is that this will let HIV or other microbes through. Those pores don’t open up until the temperature gets quite high. If you can raise your lover’s temperature to 140 degrees, wow! If not, don’t worry about using the microwaveable wrap.

Finger Cots: These are like single fingers from a rubber glove, or very small condoms. Perhaps they will fit some people with small phalluses, and they can be great covers for small sex toys that would be engulfed in a regular condom. But if you want to use them to cover a finger, ask yourself: Is it possible your partner will ask you to go up to two fingers this time?

LITERALLY Introducing Yourself As a Sexual Being

Have you noticed that, even in the 21st century, advice columnists rarely or never weigh in as to when you ought to tell your girlfriend you want to wear her panties, or speak up about that unique fetish that is as much a part of you as the freckles on your arms? First date? Fifth date? What if you’re not dating at all?

If you are having a one-nighter with someone and your sex specialty isn’t on the menu, you may not feel the need to talk it up. We don’t wear name tags with our sexual proclivities written out, after all; sometimes we just don’t mention them. Maybe it seems too soon to declare your love of spanking or whatever your favorite fetish may be right off the bat, or your new friend doesn’t seem like the sort who’d like it. Or maybe your time together just flows, and sexy spanking becomes part of the play seamlessly and positively—in this case, actions speak louder than words! But if you think you’re going to have sex with this person again, or maybe again and again, that might mean you’re on a path to greater intimacy—maybe not going steady or becoming life partners, but at least becoming “fuck buddies” or “friends-with-benefits.” In any ongoing connection, compatibility and communication matter. Your love of spanking might become a more important detail in hook-ups to come. That’s a reason to talk about it right up front.

We did wear nametags like this at San Francisco Sex Information—these included both our names and our sexual identities and interests, and sometimes those tags were too small for the adventurous among us! So here’s a fun bit of homework: Write down everything that would be listed on such a tag if you were to wear one. You are one-of-a-kind, remember? These are all the sexual wishes or practices that come in the package that is you. And if you’re going to be in a sexual relationship with someone, you bring that whole package along. Maybe you don’t unwrap it all at once; maybe there are some parts you never share. But if you have an ongoing connection, the person deserves to know anything relevant, and if you get really intimate, unless they agree not to know all of who you are, try to create an open and honest agreement with each other. This protects both of you from the drama of the Big Long-Overdue Reveal: She catches you wearing her panties; he sees your browser history with all those visits to spanking sites and freaks out; that ex-lover really isn’t all-the-way-ex. Or it turns out that the other person doesn’t like spanking, or panties, or whatever it is that is a part of you: What a terrible and painful situation that could be for both of you! That might not just trigger a divorce—it might be a bad divorce.

If you’re lucky enough, and comfortable enough with yourself, to live in a world where you can communicate easily about sexual issues, come out early! If you are already known as the guy who’s into BDSM, the woman who likes variety in her sexual partners, the one who counsels everybody else about safer sex, all you have to do is confirm the rumors and add the relevant details to your personal sexual profile. If you can talk about your general identity, do it—besides giving some useful info about you, you will also be making it easier for others to communicate by your example, and raising other people’s information level about sexual diversity. Your circumstances may dictate more privacy than this, but even so, speak up if you begin feeling that you and someone you’re seeing are becoming ongoingly important to each other, regardless of how you define your relationship status. Even if you sign up as “single” or “it’s complicated,” if you are motivated to keep this person in your life, you may already be a few steps past time for The Talk. Something like:

“I enjoy our time together so much! I want to make sure you and I are on the same page with our understanding about who we are. It hasn’t come up yet, but I want you to know that I’m also interested in [sex acts A-Z]. If you’re interested in any of that, maybe we could add it to the fun we already have—if not, maybe I can answer any questions you have about it and tell you why it’s part of my sexuality.” Put it out there with dignity—it’s you, there’s no need to feel ashamed about anything that’s consensual—and make it clear that this is done so that you can trust and understand each other on a deeper level.

Note that this could turn into a relationship definition talk—that might be a good idea, or you might want to separate the two topics. If that’s the case, specifically say that you can talk about that issue another time, that you just want to be clear about sexual and personal compatibility. The relationship definition thing is part of this too—you can be 100% compatible in the sack and still have relationship deal-breakers.

As always, remember that it’s rude to just talk about yourself! Make sure the other person has the opportunity to introduce themselves back to you, sexually speaking.

Your Safer Sex Elevator Speech

Our colleague Reid Mihalko has a useful tactic for talking about safety and risk reduction: the Safer Sex Elevator Speech.

An elevator speech takes your long, drawn-out thoughts and plans about a project or issue and boils them down into a few succinct sentences that you could literally tell someone if you cornered them on an elevator. Between the first and fourth floors, you should be able to state your purpose and get someone’s attention.

How do you calmly and clearly tell someone you just met and are attracted to that it’d be a good idea to stock up on the prophylactics? Of course, you could be that person—it’s not necessarily their job to do it. But having the right gear at both your houses couldn’t hurt. One sample way to say it—customize the tone and the specifics based on your own needs:

“I don’t want to have to worry about STIs when I’m sexually intimate with another person, because I want to just enjoy the experience and feel the feelings. Being safe lets me do that. I just get to have fun. So I want to use condoms for any insertive sex and barriers for oral.”

Here are some tips to help you think about what your personal speech should include, and how and when to bring it up:

Dumping The “Who Is” & “Who Isn’t”

Everyone Has HIV. Well, of course that’s ridiculous—everyone does not have HIV! Why would we say that?

When the HIV epidemic was taking hold in San Francisco, it was naturally a priority to teach everyone about AIDS and how to prevent it, including very explicit discussions about safer sex. This frank and sex-inclusive strategy came to be called the San Francisco Model of HIV education. The most difficult issue was not, in fact, addressing how to use a condom or even encouraging people to master the skill of rocking those under-utilized scraps of latex called dental dams. Instead, the question was How to determine who had HIV, and thus with whom you’d have to play safe, or even avoid sex altogether. Some people advocated for all HIV-positive people to have sex only with each other—but that still begged the question of who had the virus to begin with. And in the early days of the epidemic HIV was very much thought of as a fatal condition, so not only did these decisions matter deeply to a frightened populace, they also led to a concerning degree of labeling and discrimination against people who might have HIV.

So the San Francisco Model developed a strategy to try to head off this “who is, who isn’t” situation: Rather than try to figure out if a potential lover looked like they might be HIV-infected (if you think this sounds like a good strategy, sorry: You can’t tell) or ask them whether they had HIV—and then trust that they knew the answer to that question—instead, the strategy was simple. Just behave as though everyone you met and got intimate with was HIV-positive. Carry condoms and “wrap that rascal!” before any insertive sex; glove up for finger play; use dental dams or plastic wrap as a barrier for cunnilingus and rimming. Or stick with sexy, sensual outercourse: “On me, not in me” meant external ejaculation only, and suddenly kinks like voyeurism, phone sex, and rubber fetishism were safer sex options.

Behaving as though everyone might be HIV-positive meant everyone was in it together; it supported community feeling and support and tended to discourage the scapegoating or separation of people who did have HIV/AIDS. Instead of worrying how many partners your new partner’s partner might have had, people were encouraged to play safely.

Even today, with all the changes that have occurred over the course of the HIV epidemic, this is wise advice. There’s no cure yet for HIV. People do still die from it, or find the side effects of antiviral drugs to be very difficult to live with. Even more important, people are at least as likely today as they were in the mid-1980s to think that HIV is someone else’s problem. We don’t agree with this; we believe we’re all in this together, but even so, the notion that “people like us” (or like you) don’t get HIV makes it hard to protect ourselves, because that’s just misinformed. Like every other STI, HIV rides along on warm human bodies and in the bloodstream; it doesn’t care who you are.

Regardless of HIV, the odds that you’ll get close to herpes, chlamydia, or HPV are pretty high. Thinking that “Everyone has a sexually transmitted condition” is still a pretty savvy way to prevent yourself from being one of them.

No Matter Who You Are, There’s a Safer Sex for You

One of the biggest challenges when it comes to thinking about safer sex is our diversity, both sexually and culturally. On the one hand, all humans who have sex might possibly come in contact with sexually transmitted infections. Those bugs are just looking for places to hitch a ride, that’s all, and they don’t judge—even if humans sometimes do. On the other hand, depending on who we are and how we have sex, some of us might surely come in closer or more frequent contact with those microbes than others.

It’s not who you are; it’s what you do sexually, and with whom you do it, that might elevate your risk. This means that no one should ever assume that they’re not at risk just because they’re heterosexual, or lesbian, or retired, or still in high school, or married, or of any other identity.

Still, identities matter, maybe not primarily because of behavior, but because different people might respond best to different kinds of education. If you’re a young African-American man in Oakland who just got out of high school and is hitting the dating scene, you might not feel the safer sex message geared to Marin County heterosexual divorceés is very relevant to you! We don’t have enough space in this book to fine-tune our message of support to people of many varying identities, but we will tell you that you deserve information that is culturally competent: that is, that uses language and scenarios that make sense to you and that helps you realistically decide what your safety and prevention decisions need to be.

When You Know You Have an STI

Let’s begin by reminding ourselves that unless we have never ever had sex, or have a battery of STI tests very frequently, many of us have an STI, or two or three, and don’t even know it. Sexually transmitted infections are like any other kind of contagious bug—they simply take advantage of environmental conditions to make the rounds. The difference between an STI germ and the common cold is that one microorganism has a cushy pathway on nice warm genitals, and the other has to stay alive on a doorknob until its next host comes along. There’s nothing especially delightful about opening a door—maybe in a different kind of world, getting an STI would be seen as a badge that we’d had a good time, nothing more.

But in this world, many people consider it a big deal to get an STI, or to have sex with or even meet someone who has one. There is an undercurrent of sexual shame to this. True, some STIs are serious business, and it’s pretty much better to prevent them than to get them! But these are also some seriously common bugs, and many people have had an STI—not just people who have “too much” sex, however much that is, who have multiple partners, or any of the other nasty attitudes that can accompany our fear of sexually transmitted infections.

The other thing that people find concerning is the idea that they might give an STI to someone else, and/or that they need to communicate about their status and don’t know how.

We just shared the Elevator Speech with you, and if you know you have an STI, the template is still the same. Whether you want to go into detail about your history—“and then when we broke up, I found I’d caught his herpes…”—or you just matter-of-factly state, “I went to the doctor and they told me I had <fill-in-the-blank>,” you are still negotiating safety, and that’s what matters.

That you have an STI does not say anything about what kind of person you are. STI germs don’t evaluate morals or character before they take a ride on genitals; they just do what they do to stay alive. It is not appropriate for someone to try to shame you for having an STI, although it is their right to state their own safer sex needs, as in the Most Conservative Person Rule, and in fact it’s their right to decide not to have sex. Especially if you’re new to speaking to potential partners about this aspect of your life, it can hurt to be rejected—but remember, there’s always a chance someone we’re sexually interested in could reject us! Encouraging your reluctant partner to get more information about safer sex is appropriate, and it might even be within bounds to remind them that it’s ironic if they’re more upset about your STI than worried about sleeping with someone whose status they don’t know. Do not allow them to shame you: If they haven’t been tested recently, they may have an STI too! And keep an eye out for people who put STI status in perspective and are comfortable with safer sex. That’s one less thing to worry about!

If a Past Partner Had an STI

You may have dealt with STIs with a past partner and found that it was relatively easy to do. When people know their status, are honest, communicate well, and negotiate acceptable safer sex rules, being a “discordant couple”—one with an STI, one without—might not be a great problem. If you’ve successfully had such a relationship, you can use that experience to talk to potential new partners about safety and your own comfort level, take into consideration though that this may involve “outing” your ex and their STI status.

Pass the Lubricant!

Lubricants are a quick and inexpensive way to enhance and improve your sex life. Lube makes condoms more effective. Lubricants are a must for making anal sex safer and more pleasurable. It’s easier and safer to start with lube than it is to get into a sexual situation that becomes painful, unsafe or simply doesn’t work (as when penis, dildo or finger insertion is unsuccessful because there’s too much friction). After all, if you use too much you can always use less next time—or you can wipe some off and keep on going, but if you don’t have enough to begin with, you might not be able to go at it at all.

Many people think that arousal makes the vagina wet enough for sexual intercourse. That’s simply not true for many people—but no problem, lubricants are here to help. And lube is always a must for anal.

Types of Lubricants

Cherry flavored, Vanilla-Mint, self-heating, warm and tingly when you breathe on them… and even cinnamon sticks! Do you ever think you should serve lube on the dessert bar instead of in the bedroom?

Water-based

These lubricants are usually fairly thin, and many do a pretty good job of mimicking the feel of vaginal lubrication. Great for vaginal intercourse and manual play, especially on the vulva. As for penis-centered hand jobs, water-based lube dries out rather quickly when exposed to air. Safe with latex and toys.

Water-based Gel

These are much like the above, but thicker. They get slippery during play, so if you use them for vaginal sex they won’t feel too viscous—but they may be even better for anal insertion, where their extra thickness can help cushion things a bit. You can re-wet gels with a sprinkle of water or your saliva. Safe with latex and toys.

Water-based Cream

Cream lubricant looks and feels like lotion, so it allows for more friction—great for hand jobs, and many people like it for vaginal intercourse. These lubes may last longer than the other water-based products, though they have a tendency to be absorbed by the skin in a lotion-like way. They may not be best to use before oral sex, as some brands have a flavor that is not neutral and some people do not like the taste. This does vary from brand to brand, though, so if you like a cream lube for other sex acts, give it a lick and see what you think. Safe with latex and toys, with this caveat—as we will note in more detail below, silicone is present in many cream lubricants, and some silicone lubes and toys are not compatible with each other. Most cream lubricants contain only small amounts of silicone, but this varies (as does the quality of silicone toys), so we recommend that you do a patch test on your toy’s base to make sure your chosen lubricant works with it.

Note about water-based lubricants: Almost all of them have a preservative, and some people find they are sensitive to that or other lube ingredients. Some people choose organic lubricants and some folks have told us they simply go for the lube with the fewest number of ingredients. The bottom line is, if you find that a lubricant has an uncomfortable feel, makes you itchy or causes some other reaction that suggests you have an intolerance to it—switch to something else! These products are supposed to make sex more comfortable, not less.

Silicone

This is extremely slick, usually fairly thin, and many people like it for vaginal, anal, and manual play. Its plus and its minus is that it stays and stays—which means it can be more difficult to wash away than water-based products. That can be annoying after sex if you’re wiping and washing, wiping and washing, and it still won’t go away. On the other hand, some love this feeling on their genitals after sex—everything is smooth and slick. It can feel luxurious and moisturizing. And of course if you want to have rub-a-dub sex in water, the staying power of silicone is perfect. As said above, follow warnings about using silicone lube with silicone toys. Try it on a small part of the toy (like the base of the dildo) before slathering up the whole thing. Be careful to do this, because if incompatible with the lube, the toy becomes tacky and gets an odd bumpy surface; it will never return to its prior texture again, no matter how much you wash it. These lubricants are safe to use with condoms and all latex.

Hybrid Lubricant

Roses, cars and now even lubricants can be “hybrids.” What does that mean? Simply that it is a mix, in this case of a silicone and a water-based lubricant. Some cream lubricants are, in fact, hybrids, because silicone is one of their ingredients. These are used for vaginal, anal and manual sex. Again, consider whether or not to use these lubes on toys—use a tiny sample area before the big slather. Usually, if a manufacturer’s silicone products do not work with any silicone lubricants they will include this information in their user booklets. If it isn’t specifically mentioned we recommend only using water-based lubricants or testing out the sample area. Better safe than sorry. Hybrids are condom- and latex-safe.

Oil-based

Not recommended for most people for vaginal intercourse, although we’ve spoken to some who like coconut oil or shea butter oil for this purpose. Never use mineral oil-based products such as Vaseline, baby oil, Albolene, etc. for insertive sex—they dry the mucosa, the wet tissues of vagina and anus. Remember, oils and oil-based lubes are never safe with latex condoms. If a person chooses to use a vegetable or nut oil for insertion and needs a condom, a non-latex (poly/plastic) type can be used. Vegetable and nut oils, if you are not allergic to the product they derive from, can be used for hand jobs and sensual massage. Some people like them for anal sex, especially products like vegetable shortening—the kind you’d use in pie crust—which are thicker and “cushier.” Remember that if you are having any type of sex using a latex condom, dam, or gloves, oil-based lubes are not for you.

Some cottage businesses offer wonderful emollient oils and lubricants helpful for people who don’t need condoms and are sensitive to other lubes. Also some people love using sensual massage bars, candles and oils.

Saliva

Almost always available, saliva can be applied liberally or in small amounts as wanted or needed.

Glycerine a.k.a. Glycerin or Glycerol

Glycerin is chemically related to sugar, and it does not seem to agree with everyone’s vaginal flora—for some, it seems to irritate, or to encourage yeast infections. Others use it without problems. There are enough people who have reactions, though, that many water-based lubes today have stopped including glycerine. Silicone and oil-based preparations generally don’t include it.

Extras on the Menu

The varieties of specialty lubricants listed below are often given out at bachelor parties, as part of a Valentine’s Day gift basket, or when couples are trying “to spice things up a little.” When buying any novelty lubes, check the dates to be sure they aren’t expired, stick with samples or smaller sizes unless you already know you like the brand, and remember we do not recommend using them internally. Keep your regular lube at the ready—flavored or warming lubes are not replacements. Rather, they’re a fun way to spark experimenting and conversation: “Did you like that?” or “Did it work? Can you feel it?” They are also good for bringing attention to a body part that you might want to get noticed. Are you wanting your nipples licked more? Need your toes heated? Want to pretend your lover is a lollypop? Here you go!

Flavored

Many people enjoy these for oral sex, and they’re a great way to get the conversation and/or action going downtown. Here’s the insider scoop: In the past we strongly recommended not using these for inserting anything in the vagina or anus because of the chemical mix which would come in contact with mucous membranes. But some quality brands of flavored lubricants are recommended for all types of use. Some companies make flavored lubricants without sugar, using small amounts of aspartame or another substitute, so vaginal irritation isn’t a potential problem, as it sometimes is with a sugary lubricant. If you want to experiment with a flavored lubricant, make sure you like the taste, but if you’re going to insert it, try a small amount first to make sure there’s no reaction. Ask which brands are for the outside of the body and which are safe for the inside. Our main reservation about this kind of product is a user’s potential sensitivity to ingredients. This is especially true if you are allergic to the flavor in question when it’s in food: Do strawberries give you hives? Watch out for strawberry-flavored lubes. Of course, some flavoring agents are completely artificial and have no relationship to any actual strawberry!

Heating

These frequently use an extra big dose of glycerin to achieve the advertised effect (see our callout above for more on that ingredient). Again, they’re not recommended for insertion as much as for external vulva/penile use, and some people don’t tolerate glycerin well when it’s rubbed onto mucosal tissues. Some people like the sensation these warming lubes give the clitoris, penis, nipples or other areas; others don’t. We always recommend starting with a tiny amount and then once you gauge the intensity of that particular product, you can add more if desired. These work best with friction (like hand jobs) or by amplifying the warmth of one’s breath. That’s breath as in heavy breathing, not blowing. Blowing often cools them down instead of heating them up. You might want to be cautious about how much of these products you actually ingest! Some natural heating lubricants use menthol for minty goodness and sensory play.

Extra sensation

These are often not really lubricants—they are sensation creams or gels. If you are curious about these, please try them on a small area first to see if they are right for you. We have some cautions here that everyone should read in case any apply to you. The instructions on these frequently tell you to apply to the clitoris and rub in for a few minutes, which will result in arousal. Here’s the insider scoop—actually more of an open secret—you can do that with ANY slippery liquid—regular lubricant, coconut oil, or your own saliva—and achieve arousal! Save your money, at least until you have tried that simple tactic first.

Some of these products contain the amino acid L-arginine, which encourages blood flow just like rubbing with a lubricant does. Unlike lube, however, these creams might be problematic for users who have herpes. Natural medicine practitioners suggest keeping an eye on your intake of foods containing L-arginine if you have herpes, since some feel they might be associated with more frequent outbreaks. This might not be true of topical use, but to our knowledge no one has studied it, so we suggest caution until we have more clear data.

Some of these also contain mint oils or other sensation-packed botanicals. Sound like fun? They are, until you’ve had enough and can’t wash it off. Peppermint and cinnamon are powerful sensory agents. Oils are definitely a challenge to “turn off” when you’re ready to end the intense feeling, since they can’t be immediately removed from your body. We love experimenting, so that’s why we say try a tiny dab first—more romantic than hopping madly to the bathtub to wash off a burning clit or dick!

The Five Stages of Lube: The Span of an Adult Sex Life in Lube

by Shar Rednour

1) The Desperate Houseluber You’re young and/or you don’t know better—you grab what’s handy. This is the slippery, slidey stuff that’s on hand when you need it—lotion, Vaseline, shampoo, cooking oils—also known as pervertible lubricant, since none of this stuff was invented to be used as a sexual lubricant at all. These goos are the very thing sexologists, safer sex activists, or Good Vibrations staffers say not to use. Wow, did you and yours have a laugh about this later. Scary. But luckily you grew up and moved on!

Pervertible—noun or adjective. Coined by David Stein, the co-founder of the Gay Male S/M Activists (GMSMA), this word means “any household object you use for sexual or kinky purposes, even though that’s not what it was invented for.”

2) The Shiny Queen Wow, lube! You’re so cool—you actually know about lube now. This means you have sex! Yes! You can’t slow down for the details—you’ve got someone to fuck. You go for the funnest or sexiest branding and packaging: whatever catches your eye. There’s a shelf of purple labels with big splashy names. That looks good—grab that! Or what about the manly stern-looking ones? Oh, Daddy…

3) The Elite Lubester You pick one that’s totally exclusive, only for those in the know because it looks like anything but lube so, uh, you have to be in the know! This is the difference between potato leek soup and vichyssoise. You only buy lube that you don’t understand. If you understand it, then it’s not fancy enough—and it’s a huge plus if the bottles remind you of your upscale hair salon, or maybe test tubes. This one is incognito, disguised as a fancy perfume or bedside lotion… it’s a perfume, it’s a lotion… it’s… a lube! Nobody but you will know for sure.

4) The Lube-oisseur One day you find out your friends care about lube and you have a summit meeting—a critical breakdown of the aspects of lube. You research your lubricants now, analyzing them with a lover or asking a store clerk. With so many options out there, you may be poly about your lube… and use even ones other than your favorite, depending on your mood or your chosen sex act. Like choosing a drink for the appropriate mood or occasion: Hmm… do I want tea, mineral water or a Manhattan? And as a lube-oisseur you remember the day you finally fuck long enough to realize you actually need lots of lube! Now you add to your collection brands that come in large containers with a pump for dispensing instead of fumbling with little bottles and flip tops which you look at with a laugh, thinking, “Amateurs!” You’re going the distance—with a lube that matches your endurance. You use it in an all-day Saturday fuck-fest… it lasts as long as you do.

5) The Chosen One Your skin is an organ like your heart and lungs, and sometimes becomes sensitive to whatever you rub on it. You used a lube that felt perfectly fine one day, but the next your body rebelled: Every lube felt like it was dosed with itching powder from a Tom & Jerry cartoon. You used to be able to mix and match all these lubricants, but something’s changed… it’s you, not the lube. Your bedside trash bin looks like The Island of Forgotten Lubes—full of barely-used tubes and pots. You’re down to the one lube that you found in your quest and it rises high above the lubricant graveyard like the genital version of an angel statue on a moonlit night. It lubricates without irritation. It is… the chosen one.

Postlogue: The Chosen One stays that way for decades until one day your adult grandchild sees your brand and says, “Oh, Grams—that is so two decades ago. You have to try the latest!” Uh-oh, better go back to Step 3.