For too long the hand job has been reduced to nothing more than a consolation prize; the last resort for negotiation with a tired girlfriend or a quick get-it-over-and-done-with alternative when your minutes away from the first critics episode of MasterChef: The Professionals. But unlike the crappy chequebook and pen prize of 80s TV quiz shows, coming second doesn’t have to be as bad as that. I give you, the hand job unchained.

First of all, there are many reasons why the hand job has never really caught on post-experimental teenage phase. They’re a bit like the slinky of the sex world, if you will. Let’s start with the name itself shall we? It’s hardly alluring, is it? Hand job. It all sounds rather mechanical. The sort of thing you’d find at the back of the garage alongside some industrial gel and a rudimentary lathe. It certainly wouldn’t be a surprise if your first encounter with the term was whilst eavesdropping on a conversation between two workmen. ‘Jon mate, couldn’t just chuck me that hand job could ya?’ It’s hard to imagine one of the romantic poets clambering for ink and quill to pen an ode to one, put it that way (although Keats did bang one out over a Grecian Urn… an ode that is).

At a stretch it could be endearing (awwwwww, look, a little hand job) but never erotic. A hand job was never destined to be erotic. On a par with a locking wheel nut, the connotations are far too functional for that. Which, as much as I hate to admit it, is somewhat apt.

Unlike the affectionately nicknamed ‘blowie’, with a hand job there is little to aspire to. Blow job ‘secrets’, conversely, are discussed ad nauseam in women’s magazines, the likes of which you’ll usually find in doctors’ surgeries (and seemingly given as much precedence as the ability to throw together a good hot pot). But a good hand job is a lesser talked about experience. In fact, much like the Big Foot, some doubt a good hand job even exists.

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There’s a reason for this. Hand jobs are by and large seen as a stepping stone in the evolution of foreplay – a part of the journey neither party are that fussed about revisiting (a bit like that dodgy café in the layby near Swindon, which you’re pretty sure was responsible for the dicky tummy and ensuing toilet-based firework show). For the first few times, the hand job is fun and frivolous entertainment. Who cared that the girl at the end of the bed was lurching your knob about as though she was crunching through the gears of her Mini Metro? What mattered most was that a girl – a girl with breasts and earrings and everything! – had her hand on your knob. Yes. Your knob. You weren’t thinking, ‘Come on love, give it a bit more heart. I wanna feel your enthusiasm.’ You were thinking, ‘Oh my god, this is fucking awesome! What the hell did I ever see in Thundercats!’

The truth is, we were too giddy with anticipation and excitement to think about giving some tit-bits of advice to help the girl out. Yes, perhaps in hindsight we could have offered some kind of crib sheet (‘When you’ve got a spare five minutes, I’ve taken the time to fill out a feedback form for you… nothing major, just a few things you could improve on’) but blokes aren’t born with clitorises (although they do have something similar… revealed later) we’re not taught to ‘offer assistance’ in the bedroom, we’re taught to ‘listen and learn’ and then lead and, if nothing else, be grateful for what you’re given and shut the fuck up. We’re not the gender encouraged by a myriad of media outlets to ‘give directions’ or ‘a guiding hand’ and even less to belch out directions as though we’re helping a tractor and trailer back into a tight spot at the local county show (‘A bit to the left. No. The right. The right. There. Right there. Oh fuck yes!’) Unlike finding the clitoris, the hand job is considered about as much as an art form as is painting with a potato.

That is, until now. Here’s my defence on why the hand job should play a bigger role in the bedroom.

First of all, ladies taking on a proper hand job should be ready to settle in for the long haul. In cooking terms, you’re not making a quick carbonara sauce; this is no rigorous shake of the pan for a couple of minutes, oh no. This is a full-blown rich and buttery risotto, with careful and considerate – and consistent stirring. Simply put, if you found the recent hour and a half episode of Jonathon Creek a bit of trawl you may want to think twice about reintegrating the hand job into your bedroom routine.

Now on to the problem of wrist ache. This can be a tricky one and bar nipping over to grandma’s and borrowing her arthritic wrist supports for the evening, or putting on a pair of roller derby wrist guards, you’re just going to have to expect a bit of wear and tear. There are ways to combat this however (and it’s not by saying ‘I’m just gonna change hands ‘cos my wrist is hurting’ in a low whisper as though you’re changing your wood for the par 3 course ahead). The key to stopping wrist pain is this: vary your technique. There are lots to choose from. The basket weave. The milking. The jerk ‘n’ jive. You could even throw in a spot of CBT (cock and ball torture, not cognitive behavioral therapy, although, he’ll probably need a spot of that too if you start skewering his testicles with an 8 inch stiletto on a regular basis). Get online and watch some videos (most porn sites have hand job categories) and then apply what you’ve learned to your bedroom antics. Or, conversely, simply experiment and explore his anatomy yourself.

Ever heard of the frenulum? It’s the little bit of skin attaching the head to the shaft of the penis (there’s also one attaching the tongue to the bottom of your mouth). This is an incredibly sensitive part of the penis (in fact, some sexologists call it the ‘male clit’ for this very reason) and it’s not the only bit of penis with a party of nerve endings. The glands penis (the head) and the balls also pack a sensitive punch. Think of yourselves ladies as Marie Curie and your fella’s penis, radioactivity. The point is that the penis has so much more to it than the foreskin, the shaft, the head and the bollocks. And sometimes the foreskin’s even done a runner. A hand job gives the perfect opportunity to experiment with the frenulum, to tickle the shaft, to get to know your lover’s penis (one hint, use lube. Proper lube. Not margarine). Hand jobs are wholesome. Don’t forget it.