Fucking Day: More of What Women Want

Is there an academically agreed-upon way to bone? I own 114 books on picking up girls and none of them say what to do when you get one. I own 29 VHS tapes about spicing up your love life, and every last one of them is a secret dildo ad. I once reviewed a guide on satisfying a woman every time, and the only sex advice was to avoid doing it for as long as possible. The point is, most instructions for bringing a woman to orgasm are vague, stupid, or unlikely. Today is no different.

More of What Women Want (1998) is a 60 minute VHS tape published by the Alexander Institute, who, yes, happen to sell dildos. What I'm trying to say is keep your expectations low. For instance, the back of the box promises to tell us "What makes a man good in bed," but they don't mean, like, how to recognize chemistry, smoothly escalate a romantic encounter, or adjust to a weird cervix. What they mean is they asked some women outside what they look for in a man, and they said, "I like a sense of humor, and a good sense of humor?" This isn't the first time I've had to say this to sex researchers, but if you asked several friendly strangers how to fuck, you didn't just learn how to fuck.

Before it begins, the video tells you to consult with your doctor or sex therapist for additional information. It's absurd because here in 2025 no one has either of those things, but it was also weird in 1998. Women did not call their marriage counselor for more information on eating whipped cream out of their husband. You didn't schedule an appointment with your gynecologist to find out if funny men really are better at penetrating you in a swimming pool. We are; our silliness is a natural speculum. But enough about competent lovemaking; let's watch the video.

The opening of More of What Women Want is the same as the middle and end: badly lit footage of people nervously fucking, broken up by a sex doctor being eaten alive by Sweator, Lord of Sweaters.

The tiny head being devoured by the widest, bluest sweater in Sherman Oaks is Dr. Lonnie Barbach, who carries such sex therapist energy she doesn't bother giving her credentials. She talks about sex like it's both the most basic and important element of any relationship, and also a thing we haven't heard of. I'm not sure there's a "right" way to host a porn clip show, but Dr. Lonnie has not found it.

Dr. Lonnie's main role is to remind us these mediocre sex tapes with no labeling or narration are educational, and this first one is meant to teach us how to give mid-coital instructions to your partner. I think this is the hardest task they could have given these amateur performers. Sex talk is private and high-risk and embarrassing. The things you say in bed are not admissible outside of sex, or maybe that's only my rule because I can't finish unless you've convinced me you're suddenly "Hacksaw" Jim Duggan in the wrong body, how did this happen, does this mean my wife is you, signing autographs at the Orlando Fan ExpoNNHHHHH! What I mean is, maintaining a sexy mood while you issue technical commands is highly advanced dirty talk. It should not be taught by an awkward, charmless couple making their adult film debut.

A street interview with a sheepish lady sets the tone for the clip. She mumbles, and I quote:

With this assertiveness in mind, they cut to a shy, quiet woman watching her husband aimlessly chew her torso. He kisses down to her belly button, all the way back up, and slowly back down. He is taking his time, attending to every part of her. And the second he finally gets between her legs, the very exact moment, she says, and I fucking quote:

I rewound it two hundred times. It simply didn't seem possible she could have said, "Heey. There's more to me than just my muff" to the man who has already turned every part of her into hickey. And maybe this is what I meant about the difficulty of instructional dirty talk. These words are worse than unhelpful. They will rattle around this man's brain for the rest of his life. He will consider them every time he gets near her crotch, wondering if he's done enough leg licking to get started. And once the words are out there, there's no taking them back; no tweaks to be made. In his head, forevermore, this lady can never go back to being someone who enjoys muff stuff. If a woman said this to me, she would immediately be the star of the story, "I once hooked up with a girl who only liked titty honks."

This guy doesn't know what to do either. His response is to say, "hmmmfh," and put some of a boob into his mouth. He can't know if it's right, everything he ever thought he knew has just been undone by the haunting misspeakings of a madwoman.

She communicates, "Maybe grab the other one." I can't stress enough how bad this video is at what it's trying to do. She asserts, "It's like a mixture. Little bit hard, little bit soft." That's nothing, so he is rubbing and slapping things like he's trying to skip a cutscene, like he came upon a malfunctioning nuclear reactor in his bed. He says only the word "kay."

He crushes and tidies her boobs for a bit before heading back down, skipping straight past her vulva because that's almost entirely what he was told to do. For all he knows, that part is off limits forever. But after some time, he decides he's done enough elbow and belly button sucking to try again. She stops him and says, "Do the outside of the thighs, please."

Fucking fine, he guesses, and starts eating her knee. She tries to help by saying, "You can chew me a little, not like that. But just…. Lightly. Just that little twinge, I like that." She is looking for something very specific and far beyond her capacity to explain. He's given up. He looks like a hostage trying to keep a low profile. His only plan is to lose enough spit to die.

The sex is pretty dense with pointless chatter already, but once he gets called up to finger blasting duty, she starts to really give advice. She says, "Yeah, help with your hand a little bit. Because if you combine both of them, it's quite," and then I couldn't understand her because a car drove by. The audio sucks almost as much as this guy on every non-erogenous zone.

He grabs both her hips with his hands and she tells him, "Can you grab hold of it and suck on it? Mm, yeah, grab it all, let your hand go!" And since she seems to be talking to someone else about a different situation, he ignores her. I think they set out to make a training video, and maybe they did, but the kind where someone falls into a thresher as an example of how not to use your thresher. If you told teams of virgins they had six minutes to churn the most butter with no tools, they would all make this exact video.

When she finally allows this poor, confused man full access to her vagina, he does claw an orgasm out of her, but he does it like a one man band bravely playing on as a cruise ship sinks. And then it simply ends. There's no postgame; Dr. Lonnie doesn't talk us through what went right or wrong during their shitshow of clumsy ribsucking. Instead, she insanely announces this:

So it is only the video's second sex idea, and we are already at, "I don't fucking know, chocolate syrup. Dress up like pancakes, you square ass nerds."

Our second nameless couple is doing their best to pretend they are having a human morning of egg and newspaper. It is not convincing.

"I know how I can make things less weird," says the camera man. "Let me zoom in on this knife while your hand idles on it contemplatively."

I don't want to criticize the theatrical abilities of these performers on what was probably their first day of acting and public sex, but watching them perform "oh no, this food fight is spontaneously turning into sex" is like watching a newborn giraffe put on a human suit and get eaten by an escalator. But not a newborn giraffe you like. I'm finding it hard to explain. Wait, I've got it: picture two bad actors fucking by a waffle maker.

They get down on the floor and start to cover each other with condiments. And maybe you find this kind of thing sexy, but these two don't and have no idea why you would. They are absolutely just trying random shit. These two make love like a family of racoons in an IHOP dumpster. At one point the woman tries mopping up the fluids on his chest with a waffle. They have forgotten the assignment and are now inventing a zero calorie way to make diarrhea. And it's a fully explicit video, so we can watch in real time the withering effect it has on his erection. Hot!

She eventually waffles up enough chocolate and whipped cream for the two of them to have full, graphic sex and nothing other than that happens for a few minutes. My notes say "this is a suddenly a really good video," and my notes are never wrong.

The joy is fleeting, though; because it then cuts back to Dr. Lonnie saying, derangedly:

"But sex and warm water do go hand-in-hand"!? This is how a middle school news team would throw to weather after a report on waffle sex. I get you're writing copy for a flyover state marital aid, but fuck you. If this is your segue, why bother? Dr. Lonnie could have come back in and said, "Gross. Real gross. Wait, hold on, I'm getting word you can fuck in the shower!?" Because that's what this next segment is about– breaking the story that you can do it in wet places where you were already nude.

There are no instructions or fun facts. At one point Dr. Lonnie says, "Even the ocean or a murky lake can add a new dimension to lovemaking," but that's not anything. All we do here is watch a few couples make uncomfortable, unlubricated love to the pan flute setting on a Casio keyboard. Let me make a sexy gif for you:

I don't know if this guy is a good actor trying to fake ecstasy or a bad actor trying to hide his penis skin being chafed off, but this section on murky lake sex is pretty unpleasant. There's a reason Astroglide's main ingredients aren't "Ocean water, Hampton Inn hot tub." Anyway, there's not much else to say about the warm water segment of More of What Women Want. Nineteen ninety-eight's leading sex researchers proposed the theory of pawing at people while you bathe, and I think they could be right.

The next segment features the video's most telegenic couple, so they didn't bother to make it about anything. It's a hot lady getting reluctantly fucked by a hunk while she makes dinner. She's trying to peel potatoes and he interrupts her to stick it in, mambo style.

This is the kind of thing you should put in a sex instructional video. Show the viewer ways to really explore the pelvic floor. A little Latin flair with your boner can hit those underpoked side g-spots. By the way, through the whole thing, the woman never stops peeling potatoes. She keeps making dinner while he swirls around in her, a sex position known as The Scalloped Antonio, or Mashed Prowler if you do it too fast. The scene fades out on the fully peeled potatoes while he gasps, "It's a very special recipe." I took this to mean he finished in one of the potatoes, of course, but can't verify it because when it cuts back to Dr. Lonnie she has wildly changed the subject:

What's that? Kissing? It can be intimate and arousing? Tell me more. Lady, five seconds ago we watched Lorenzo Lamas, with little to no consent, impregnate a bowl of raw potatoes. I think we are past kissing. Unless you have some seriously intriguing wisdom on the subj– what's that? You asked one lady outside the Encino Olive Garden about kissing? Oh, fuck yeah, let's hear this insight.

An uncredentialed pedestrian, who looks like After in an anti-smoking ad, tells us kissing is the only good part of the sex. Men in her life are always going right for it, never lingering on her mouth. The camera zooms in way too close on her face and stays there, letting her reword her simple point over, and over. I may never know who this woman is, but I do know the producers of More of What Women Want were trying to destroy her.

Then, I swear to God, at 35 minutes into the video, Dr. Lonnie casually, and out of nowhere, brings up squirting. She mentions someone who "happens to be one of the small percentage of women who squirts a small amount of fluid through her urethra when she has an orgasm. This is called female ejaculation. And studies show that the fluid ejaculated is significantly different than urine. Sex researchers are still learning about how this process works."

I don't know why this is here, or what woman would want it. I'm still trying to wrap my head around how women like to kiss, and now I'm learning you can milk rare ones for something medically distinguishable from pee? Amazing.

We never learn the squirter's name. It cuts to grainy footage of her and her assistant clearing the teddy bears off her bed so she can be industrially juiced. As lovers, they're not very skilled or photogenic, but they're here to squirt, not teach. Again, I don't know why. Sometimes the applications come after the science.

The squirter's assistant digs around with his tongue and hands like Gene Simmons trying to find his car keys in a horse. Most sex experts would call it "a clinic of what not to do," but Dr. Lonnie might say "beds can be used for more than sleeping if you are an adventurous lovemaker, ice cream or outside are also essential." It's tough to look at. And I don't mean it's bad sex. It is, but they're also lit by a single room lamp so they look like a blur of reheated Indian food.

They keep building and building until the squirter says, "almost," and her partner does what all great lovers do– he stops everything and stiffly corkscrews his driest finger into her. So we're back to "not almost" at best. But soon… patiently and violently, he stabs this miracle out of her with both hands.

In a triumph for sex research, the camera captures the elusive female ejaculation. There were no sex researchers there at the time to verify it wasn't pee, but if you can't trust a couple of dirtbags pounding off in front of a camcorder in their childhood bedroom, who can you trust?

The next section is about incorporating make-believe into your sex. Specifically, making believe that a second man is there with you.

They show you how to do this by having a husband jerk his wife off while she imagines another man creeping in. This sexual intruder is the only black person in the video, but it would take some kind of intersectional genius to know if that means anything. All I know is it wasn't useful. Nowhere does it help the viewer emotionally navigate a threeway with her plain husband and a hunky, larger-donged stranger. It is barely an instruction manual on how to imagine some guy breastfeeding on you while you and your husband violate the community's jacuzzi rules. But my notes for this part do say "this is a really good video again."

Then, as unceremoniously as it began, More of What Women Want ends. Dr. Lonnie throws to a commercial for their other products.

If you want to see the same five couples artlessly lick each other in different locations, try the prequel, What Women Want!

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This article was brought to you by our fine sponsor and Hot Dog Supreme: Eric Christian Berg, who approaches the study of human intimacy with an open heart, a dry finger, and no respect for dinner prep.

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