Lets face it, a decade into a marriage and we could all do with a few new tricks (as in skills, not customers).
One of the sites I found pretty useful was sexuality.org which, surprisingly, was recommended in a usually vacuous and fashion-centric womens online mag - you know the type - the sort that mentions a new nail varnish every week as the season's 'must have' at £25 a pot.
There are some pretty good hints in the sexuality site, although it is still firmly rooted in a male dominated free-sex ideal which, to my mind, makes it rather funny. Just the fact that one of the 'moves' for a hand job is called 'climbing the mountain' gives that away, plain as day. How do you look a bloke in the eye and say 'This is called climbing the mountain' without falling over laughing and pulling the 'mountain' off in your rigid little fist, in the process?
I try not to imagine who these people are because all I can think of is a bunch of middle management types, hairy and paunchy and rather too full of their own imagined prowess, all working to a list of 'how to's whilst taking turns to lie on the massage couch. All a bit doctor and nursey for me, I think I would probably spoil it all by wetting myself (and the nice couch) either laughing or in horror, depending on who was smiling from between my legs. Which makes me wonder which poor sod gets to clean up afterward, or whether they have found someone with a kink for that sort of thing, willing to bring their own industrial strength rubber gloves.
On the upside, given that they (allegedly) use all these methods of yanking, tweaking and tickling to some success in a rather bizarre one-wank-fits-all situation, it has to be imagined that well, in most cases, one wank really does fit all, in other words that in most cases the techniques do work. If you want a few ideas to bring back to your relationship, rather than a lesson in other people's very weird worlds, then sections 3, 7 and 8 are the ones you might find useful.
And thats precisely the point where I think its time for me to shut up, don my dark glasses and look of haughty martyrdom like an aging starlet, and decline to comment.