Oral Sex Is Like Ice Cream

It happened to me again. He came. I didn’t.

The art of oral sex isn’t new. It’s not unknown. But somehow it is still disproportionately used – or not used – in the bedroom.

I’m not always disappointed if I don’t orgasm during sex. Truly I’m not. But, when the attempts to make me finish are non-existent, it’s hard not to be annoyed about it.

Orgasms, pasta sauce, and you

The thing with female orgasms, is that in general, we take a little bit longer. A bit more effort is required outside of penetration. We need some level of intimacy. Some level of connection. A bit of confidence. But once you have figured out our ‘recipe’ you can pretty much guarantee it will work each and every time. It’s like a good pasta sauce. Once you’ve nailed it, don’t change a thing. Except maybe on special occasions where you throw a few extra ingredients in the mix just to see if you can spice it up a little more. But the base remains essentially the same.

And honestly, it’s ok that it’s not always good. New lovers or hook-up situations might be using a recipe made for someone else. Not everyone likes Brenda’s pasta sauce.

Techniques are wide and varied. I’ve had someone go down on me like he was imitating Pac-Man chomping on power pellets. I’ve had someone three-course meal me, like he’s eating the last supper. I’ve had someone who learned everything they knew from watching a golden retriever eat peanut butter off a spoon. And like all women, I’ve had people who must have held the book upside down when they learned about the clitoris. But I have never complained about bad oral.

Oral sex should be reciprocated

A good coach knows that giving encouragement is the best way to get outcomes. Focus on what they did well and gently guide them. Blow the whistle, redirect them. We can’t complain about it if we don’t take on the role of the teacher.

But when there is nothing? Zip? Nada? Zilch?

Encouragement of reciprocal oral – or just oral in general – needs to be done at a societal level. We need to unite to fight. Placards and street protests. Electoral campaigns and campaign sponsors. We need education and empathy. We need a mayor. And when, sometime in the future, we get this right, we need a street parade and big giant oral equality float. I’m already designing the banner.

I find it hard to comprehend how people cannot understand this. In what universe would you allow yourself to achieve the ultimate peak of sexual pleasure and then just end the game? Abandon your team, turn off the console, and go make a sandwich? I don’t think so Pac-Man! You are not done here!

And if you’re reading this thinking ‘it’s not that big of a deal, is it?’ maybe reflect on that. How many times have you been the one not to orgasm?

Try and think of oral as ice cream.

You walk into an ice cream shop with your lover. They order their favourite flavours. Stack ‘em high with 3 giant scoops of their old faithfuls. Every lick, every bite, every little moan of delight. You smile watching them eat it, because it brings you a sense of joy knowing that they are enjoying it.

Then you turn to order yours.

The shop assistant informs you there is no ice cream left. None. The shop is closing.

You turn back to your lover just in time to watch them pop the last chunk of solid chocolate from the bottom of the crunchy waffle cone into their mouth. You know that feeling when you find that unexpected choco surprise in there? They moan again. The ultimate ending.

And then… it’s over.

They shrug. They’ve finished. They’re ready to go. They might even suggest getting a kebab on the way home. You aren’t even an afterthought. It’s done. End scene.

The emptiness washes over you. A moment of loneliness. A physical sadness, deep in the pit of your gut. But what about me?

The etiquette of oral sex

In 2026 (and beyond) what should be happening is that we – women – should get served first. Isn’t that etiquette?

I’m not talking about the kind of etiquette where women are walking with books on their heads or finely nibbling on chicken wings – those days are well over. But the kind that shows human decency and consideration of each other. Fairness.

Here’s how I see etiquette in this ice cream scenario: If you accidentally ordered and finished your ice cream first, that’s okay. Sometimes people finish their ice cream almost immediately. That happens. Don’t be embarrassed. It was good ice cream. But don’t stop there!

Another ice cream shop. Do a Google search. Ask for directions. Ask for a map. You won’t find the ice cream if you don’t go hunting for it. So, get out there and try! And look, it doesn’t have to be Ben & Jerry’s. At this point, we’d accept home-brand Neapolitan out of a tub from Coles – even if the pink flavour is all that is left! Just give us something. Anything!

And if, after some significant and genuine attempts to find more ice cream, there isn’t a shop in sight, that’s okay. Because honey, you tried.

And sometimes all we need to feel equal is just for you to try.

Now, if you are reading this feeling a flicker of guilt because you are the one who always achieves climax while your partner starves – it might be time for you to invite them out for ice cream. And if technique is what’s holding you back, here’s your homework. Do some research. Maybe take a course. Let’s change the game.

I’ll start decorating the float.

Read more: Your radical guide to vulva pleasure, by Amy Louise.