2005: I have sex with a guy, and it's miserably futile; try as I might, I just can't get him off. I keep going, sinking into desperation as my vagina gets sore so I use my mouth, and I start gagging so I use my hand, and my hand makes him sore so eventually he just tells me to give it a goddamn rest already. I sit around awkwardly, feeling like a useless failure, as he jerks himself off. He doesn't particularly enjoy it but just does it for relief. I wonder if I'll ever have the sexual skills to get a guy off properly, inside me and under my power.
2011: I have sex with a guy, and he doesn't come during the penis-in-vagina part of the sex. We separate when we get to a good ending point and I hold him and make out with him while he jerks himself off. I whisper in his ear how hot it is to feel his muscles tense as he pleasures himself. And I'm not kidding; I start masturbating along with him and then slip the fingers of his free hand into my pussy. The feeling of my muscles clenching around his fingers sends him over the edge and he comes explosively. We fall asleep entwined, satisfied.
Having mechanically perfect sex with your bodies in perfect unison is overrated. Knowing how to have good sex anyway, how to create an experience that's sexy and sweet even when someone has a limp dick or dry pussy or trick hip, is tragically underrated.