Look at yourself in the mirror naked. Look at your skin and your stomach and your pores and every bump and crease that is undeniably a part of you. Feel the slope of your chest and the curves of your hips and love them, love yourself. Remember that there is another person who is literally hard, literally wet thinking about seeing you in all of your nakedness. So look at something you would call a flaw, know they never would, and simply think, “You’re welcome.”
Take every piece of your partner in, no pun intended. After you’ve seen yourself in your most basic form, really study. Really see them: the scars from a past fall or injury, the freckles that dance across their collarbones like constellations. The way their hair frames their eyes on your pillows. The way their mouth curves and quivers when you put your hand just there. Look at them, pay attention to them. And they will reciprocate.
Experience every moment. The way the sheets slide down your waist and pool around your hips, the coolness of the metal headboard when you grab it for balance, the tickling of the little hairs around their jaw line when you cup it in the palm of your hand. The way your stomach drops in the best way when their fingertips climb oh-so-softly up the back of your thigh. Don’t simply go through the motions; find new moments and tuck them away to pull out when you want and need your core to flip and your cheeks to flush again.
Take your time. Sometimes a quickie is what you need, all heated and rushed, causing all of your blood to rush to your cheeks and get you to the finish line as quickly as possible. But lengthen every graze of your fingers, every touch from your lips, every lick by just a fragment, just a second. Feel every single shudder, every arch and tense of their muscles. Soak in them as they’re happening, as you’re making them happen. Grasp every part of them; their wrists, legs, ankles, neck. Realize how it takes the two of you and revel in it a little, or a lot.
Kiss every part of them and savor each every piece of skin. The salt from their sweat on their back, the faint traces of the day on their shoulders. The smells and tastes that are exclusively their own. Take every opportunity to tell them with your words and your mouth and your tongue what you want from them. And don’t stop until their voice is raw and hoarse from moaning their thanks.
Say what you want. Don’t make your needs a guessing game. The only thing you should be straddling is their lap and face, never a line of ambiguity. Get exactly what makes your eyes roll back into that place of perfect, spontaneous blackness and your cries to come out from a place you forgot existed. Clutch the sides of the bed or, better yet, their sides as you explode into a burst of yourself. Moan your own thanks; I promise they’ll be full of their own welcomes.
Make no apologies. You work hard during the day at school or work or wherever. You are a perfectly animalistic creature filled with atoms and hormones and nerve endings and stars and deserve to satisfy yourself. You should never worry about being too loud, too turned on, too needy, or about asking for something that society says you “shouldn’t.” There’s plenty of time and plenty of things to worry about from day to day; there’s not room for any worries during sex.
And after you’re both shaking, you’re both spent, you’re both covered in that sweat that is simultaneously hot and cold take it all in again take time to acknowledge how awesome it is that you just did that. And then after twenty minutes: lather, rinse, repeat.