Good sex is like good music. It happens when the actors involved are communicating - in this case with a language of touch and sensation. Each touch, each note, each input sends waves of electricity, each amplified by the one before it, in a continual upward spiral until a glimpse is seen of that from which everything begins.
In concentrating on the pleasures of another, one loses one's self. In experiencing one's own pleasure, one is made aware of one's self. The two oscillate at higher frequencies and eventually merge until the very question of self no longer matters.
Good sex and good music take many forms. The form that a particular instance will take on depends on the nature of the actors and what sort of purpose they are working towards. Techniques and behaviors don't matter too much teleologically, only insofar as they are useful to each person's expression; however, as catalysts to deeper experiences they do matter almost in an enzymatic function.
Our culture seems to locate sexual activity at two moral extremes: either it is the forbidden act that must be locked up beyond the gates of marriage, or it is a base pleasure that should be pried from one's partner almost like a trophy. These two extremes are symbiotic: they reinforce each other in eternal cycles. Either one exhausts the meaning of sex through debasement, leading to a desperate attempt to lock it away to attempt to preserve it, or one simply seeks it as an object of worship because one has been denied it by an authority holding it beyond closed gates, and the cycle repeats itself.
But really sex is a medium. It is an activity with its own language that can be guided in any direction you choose. It can be merely a reproductive act to be guarded by moralists, or a mercenary act like prying away jewels with a crowbar, or it can be a vehicle that can be used in conjunction with other vehicles to experience the all.
