The Girl With A One Track Mind says that good sex is all in the chemistry:

You see, of the men I have slept with — that made my fire burn from the chemistry — not all, even many, of them were that skilled in the sack. But they still made my pants soaked and enabled me to climax — repeatedly — when I was with them.

Given the choice between the most skilled lover in the world and one that is clumsy with his hands, but who — when he whispers in my ear “god you’ve got me so turned on” — makes me drip in anticipation of his touch, I know who I would pick, and it wouldn’t be Mr Loverlover. I’m of the opinion that every man can be taught (if necessary) how to please a woman well; but if there’s no chemistry there to begin with? Forget it.

This might sound harsh — “ladies, get rid of him if he doesn’t make your pants wet before he touches you” — but, fuck it, it’s true. Every good lover I have had was someone I had chemistry with; the ones I didn’t (and yes, there’ve been many of those too) — even with all the best technique in the world — didn’t make me come (as hard, as much, or even, at all).