Search Results: Edging

You are browsing the search results for edging

The film making us face the idea disabled people have sex

FacebookTwitterGoogle+PinterestTumblrShare

‘Yes We Fuck’ is an uncompromising look at the reality that disabled people have sex lives too. We caught up with director and disability activist Antonio Centeno to find out more

BY

Yes We Fuck

As a society we’re becoming more accepting of sexuality in all its guises and forms – and rightly so. 2015 could be seen as the year when trans issues finally broke through into the mainstream after decades spent on the margins of society, while more and more women in particular are joining the sexually fluid revolution. And yet for all of our talk, there’s one conversation that we’re not having – about how disabled people have sex.

Spanish director and disability activist Antonio Centeno wants to tackle this prudishness head-on. His film Yes We Fuck (which is co-directed with Raúl de la Morena) is a no-holds barred look at the world of disabled sexuality, with uncompromising visuals (of people having sex) and a strong sense of moral purpose. Centeno shows human intimacy in all its forms, and what strikes you from watching the film is that the issues faced by disabled people when it comes to their sex lives aren’t so dissimilar to those faced by the rest of the population.

Watching the film, which recently showed at the British Film Institute’s Flare festival, at times makes for uncomfortable viewing. You’re discomfited by the fact that the sexuality depicted on our TVs and in popular culture almost uniformly represents one experience: that of heterosexual intimacy between two able-bodied, cis-gendered people.

Yes We Fuck is an uplifting, refreshing corrective to the narrative that disabled people are in some way sexless, made noble by the struggles they undergo to assimilate into a society that is in many ways ableist. The film isn’t perfect – sections are too long, and while Centeno wants to depict the reality of disabled people having sex, at times the camera lingers too long or in a way that feels intrusive. It’s clear that this is very much a passion project from the fledging director, and one which could perhaps have profited from tauter editing. Nonetheless, it’s rare to see a film which so profoundly makes you confront your own prejudices to recognize that we all of us share a common humanity and a common desire to express that humanity through the most natural act of all – the act of fucking, of course.

To find why we need to get on board with the fact that disabled people fuck like the rest of us, Dazed caught up with Centeno at the BFI. Below is the transcript of our conversation, which has been edited for flow and clarity.

 

Can you give us a bit of background as to why you made Yes We Fuck? Is this an issue that’s particularly close to home for you?

Antonio Centeno: By background I’m an activist and I’ve always advocated for helping disabled people, or those with functional diversity as we prefer to call them, to lead independent lives wherever possible. For us, this is a political issue. If we want people with functional diversity to have real lives – not merely to survive – then we need to be visible sexual beings. We need to break this infantilised image of us as children, to show that people with functional diversity are sexual beings, people who desire and are desired. So by giving them a sexuality, we politicise the issue.

You depict real-life intimacy in the film in a lot of detail. How did you get the participants to trust you?

Antonio Centeno: Many of the people in the film I’d met as activists throughout the years, so they trusted in me and what I was doing. And they understood that the film wasn’t just entertainment, but a political tool to help the change the realities of our society. I mean, of course it was difficult, to expose yourself and put your body out there. But it was only possible because of the trust I enjoyed from them, and the fact they understood what political message we were trying to put out.

What’s the reaction been like?

Antonio Centeno: In my native Spain and internationally there’s been a huge amount of interest and it’s generally been very well received. Some people find it too direct, maybe  there’s too much exposure, and some people thought there were some stories missing as well. But it’s been more difficult getting it out to a wider audience, outside of LGBT and specialist film festivals. And I think this reflects the way in which people with functional diversity live in our society. You know, we live away from the masses, from the general public. We live in ghettos. And by ghettos, I mean special residences, or with families that look after us. We go to special schools, because we have to. We work in special centres. So basically, we live in a parallel world, segregated from other people.

Would you like to see this segregation broken down so everyone is living side-by-side?

Antonio Centeno: Well, I’m not sure about ‘everyone’. I don’t like most people! [Laughs].

The title of the film is quite risque…

Antonio Centeno: In Spain, we have a motto which roughly translates as ‘Fuck as you live, and live as you fuck’. Which means that you can only have your own independent life if you have a sex life which is free, which is independent, which is rich. And you can only have a sex life that is free if you personally are free. If you have a free sex life, you can have a good life. You can fight for your freedom, for your independence. So the film is about how you can show, through sexuality, that people with functional diversity want to live like others, independently, not being cancelled out and made to delegate their decisions through family members or professionals.

What I found interesting about the film is that a lot of the sexual issues that people faced, like guilt or shame, are common to everyone, not just those with functional diversity.

Antonio Centeno: Well, our intention wasn’t just just to show weird people doing weird things. We wanted to deal with general issues, like desire, pleasure, our relationship with our bodies. But basically by focussing on this group of people with functional diversity, we produced this magnifying glass effect…I mean, the issues that they have aren’t so dissimilar from those the rest of the population have. But it’s just magnified in this group.

It’s historically very difficult to depict sex on film. Was this a concern for you? Wanting to show sexuality in a way that was honest without being gratuitous?

Antonio Centeno: Well, I want to start by saying that reality doesn’t exist, as such. We were constructing a reality. And that’s the powerful thing about porn, not that it represents reality but that it constructs reality. If we think about what people think about those with functional diversity, they think that we don’t have sex. So we wanted to put images in the heads of the viewers, so that those images were incompatible with the prejudices that they had.

Is there a danger that we risk sensationalising the issue?

Antonio Centeno: It’s a risk we take, definitely. But if the problem before was people with functional diversity being invisible, and now it’s us being sensationalised, that’s okay with me. For me, it’s important that we construct narratives which don’t just place people with functional diversity between two opposite poles. You know, we have the pariahs, the hopeless people, and then on the other end of the spectrum there’s the hero and it’s all very inspiring, but…I mean, no one actually believes that. It’s reductive. So there are lots of stories that have to be constructed in the middle about people with functional diversity. And that’s what I hope to do.

Complete Article HERE!

There Really Isn’t Any Bad News for People Who Like to Masturbate

by Martha Kempner

logo-40b3359ffcbc2c0f73dcb295eaaf087c62a05314a9e0e77bec11bce10e74c628

Masturbation is such an under-appreciated form of sexual activity. It has been blamed in urban legends for everything from hairy palms to lack of productivity, and has a reputation of being reserved for those who can’t find anyone else to have sex with them. But that’s just not true. Most people masturbate. It feels good. It carries no risk of pregnancy or disease. It can take as much or as little time as you have. And it’s relaxing. So why have media outlets warned readers that they might be doing it too much or the wrong way?

Recently, in a December 15 article titled “We’ve Got Bad News for People Who Love Masturbating,” Maxim’s Ali Drucker tells readers: “If you or someone you love frequently enjoys doing the five-finger shuffle, there’s a study that suggests they might face negative effects over time.” The article actually points to three pieces of “research” that seem to suggest masturbation isn’t as good as other forms of sexual behavior, that one can become addicted to it, and that the “grip of death” can make men incapable of experiencing pleasure any other way.

Well, RH Reality Check has good news—these conclusions are largely based on junk science and misunderstandings.

masturbationThe first study Drucker cites, originally published in Biological Psychology, is called, “The post-orgasmic prolactin increase following intercourse is greater than following masturbation and suggests greater satiety.” Prolactin is a hormone that is released by the pituitary gland. Its main function is to stimulate milk production when a woman is lactating, but it also plays a role in the sexual response cycle. According to the study, which was first published about ten years ago, prolactin is released after orgasm as a way to counteract the dopamine released during arousal. Some scientists believe that the more satisfying the experience is, the more prolactin levels will go up afterward.

For this study, Stuart Brody and his colleagues compared data showing prolactin levels after penile-vaginal sex to those after masturbation and found that levels after intercourse were 400 percent higher than after masturbation. They interpreted this to mean that intercourse is more physiologically satisfying than masturbation.

On the surface, this conclusion isn’t surprising. Many people don’t view masturbation as the same as a shared experience with a partner. It doesn’t tend to produce the same physical or psychological feelings. But that doesn’t mean it’s not a fun and satisfying way to spend a few minutes (or hours, if you’re ambitious or bored).Masturbate-a-Thon_Logo

When I read the study, I did not interpret it to say that intercourse was better than masturbation, just that our biological reactions to different sexual behaviors were different. I had never read anything by Professor Brody before and reached out to him, assuming that people were overstating his results and that he did not mean to discourage masturbation. I thought, what sex researcher would ever want to discourage masturbation?

However, he replied, “Instead of any fresh quotes, I attach my review paper on the evidence regarding health differences between different sexual behaviors.” He sent me a different article, a literature review in which he says in no uncertain terms that penile-vaginal intercourse (PVI) is the best kind of sex and that “sexual medicine, sex education, sex therapy, and sex research should disseminate details of the health benefits of specifically PVI.”

masturbating womanAs a sex educator, I can’t imagine telling anyone that penile-vaginal sex is inherently better. For one thing, not everyone is in a couple, and not all couples have a penis and a vagina between them. And even for cisgender heterosexual couples, PVI is only one of countless potentially pleasurable behaviors. Moreover, many women find it less satisfying and less likely to end in orgasm than behaviors that incorporate clitoral stimulation.

But Brody not only thinks it’s the best form of sex—he thinks we sometimes do it wrong. He writes that “PVI might have been modified from its pure form, such as condom use or clitoral masturbation during PVI.” He also explains that Czech women who were vaginally orgasmic were more likely than their peers who didn’t have orgasms through PVI to have been taught during childhood that the vagina is “an important zone for inducing female orgasm,” concluding that “sex education should begin to be honest” about sexual behaviors.

I thought we’d moved on from the idea that we should all be having heterosexual, penile-vaginal sex in its “pure form” (missionary position?) and that women who couldn’t orgasm this way were both bad at sex and shit out of luck.

Colleagues in the field told me that many of them ignore Brody’s studies because he makes wild inferences based on soft science and, as implied by his research, is wedded to the idea that for sex to have the most benefits it needs to include PVI.

Nicole Prause, a researcher who has written critiques of Brody’s work, told me via email that, “His work almost exclusively uses data from other researchers, not his own, meaning the design is never really appropriate for the claim he is actually trying to make.” She went on to say that Brody’s studies on orgasm are often based on self-report, which is notoriously unreliable. Although the study Maxim cites was based on blood tests, “He has never once verified the presence of orgasm using a simple physiological measure designed for that purpose: anal EMG. Many women are thought not to be able to reliably distinguish their orgasm, so his purely self-report research is strongly suspect. If this is his area of focus, he should be studying it better than everyone else,” she concluded.female_masturbate.jpg

But Brody’s research on prolactin isn’t the only questionable science that Maxim relies on for its cautionary tale on masturbation. The article goes on to discuss the role of oxytocin and dopamine and points out that there’s less oxytocin released during masturbation. This is probably true—oxytocin is known as a bonding hormone and is triggered by contact with other people, so it’s not surprising that it’s not released when you’re orgasming alone. The Maxim article, however, argues that if the brain is flooded with dopamine (a neurochemical) during masturbation without the “warm, complacent, satisfied feeling from oxytocin,” you can build up a dopamine tolerance, or even an addiction, and get into “a vicious cycle of more masturbation.”

David Ley, PhD, a clinical psychologist and sexuality expert, explained in an email that many people describe dopamine as the “brain’s cocaine,” but this is an overly simplistic way of looking at it. It doesn’t mean we’re at risk of desensitizing our brain or getting addicted to jerking off. Ley wrote:

It appears that there are many people whose brains demonstrate lower sensitivity to dopamine and other such neurochemicals. These people tend to be “high sensation-seekers” who are jumping out of airplanes, doing extreme sports, or even engaging in lots of sex or lots of kinky sex. These behaviors aren’t caused by a development of tolerance or desensitizing, but in fact, the other way around—these behavior patterns are a symptom of the way these peoples’ brains work, and were made.

OK, dopamine isn’t cocaine and neither is masturbation: We’re not going to get addicted if we do it “too” much.

But, wait, Maxim throws one more warning at us—beware the “death grip.”

Though the article describes this as “the idea that whacking off too much will damage your dick,” the term, which was coined by sex advice columnist Dan Savage, is more about getting too accustomed to one kind of stimulation and being unable to reach orgasm without it. There is some truth to this—if you always get off using the same method, you can train your body to react to that kind of stimulation and it can be harder (though rarely impossible) to react to others. There are two solutions, neither of which involve giving up on masturbation: Retrain your body by taking some time off from that one behavior and trying some others, either by yourself or with a partner, or incorporate that behavior into whatever else you’re doing to orgasm (like clitoral masturbation during intercourse).

male_masturbationIn fairness, the Maxim article ends by acknowledging that masturbation can have benefits, but I still think it did its readers a disservice by reviewing any of this pseudoscience in the first place. As Ley said in his email, “This article, targeted towards men (because we masturbate more), is still clearly pushing an assumption that there is a ‘right kind of sex/orgasm’ and that masturbation is just a cheap (and potentially dangerous) substitute … That’s a very sexist, heteronormative, and outdated belief based on a view of sex as procreative only.”

So for a different take on it all: Sure, there might be more prolactin and oxytocin produced during intercourse than masturbation, but that does not mean that masturbation isn’t enjoyable or worthwhile. You won’t become addicted to it, but you might want to mix up how you get to orgasm or just incorporate your preferred stroke into all other sexual activity.

What you shouldn’t do is view the Maxim article—or any of the research it cites—as reasons not to stick your hands down your own pants.

Complete Article HERE!

Celibacy vs. Abstinence…There Is A Difference

Name: Richard
Gender: male
Age: 26
Location: Duluth MN
I’ve been practicing periods of celibacy and the way that I practice celibacy is by not ejaculating. I’ll still have fornication with my girlfriend and things like that but without ejaculation. My question is that I notice that when I end a period of celibacy by finally ejaculating that my energy level is extraordinarily low afterwards. Are there supplements I can take to counteract the sleepy feeling I have after I ejaculate? Basically I would like to have the same focus day to day as when I am practicing celibacy but while I have a sexually active life. Any thoughts or answers would be great.

Before I get to your question. Richard, let’s work on some of your vocabulary, shall we? The sexual practice you describe is not a type of celibacy. Celibacy has a very specific meaning. It is the state of being unmarried. Curiously enough you actually happen to be celibate.  Not because you’re practicing ejaculation control, but because you’re not married (you have a GF). For the sake of clarity, the only thing we ought to be able to say for sure when someone identifies him/herself as celibate is that he/she is not married. Period!tantric-sex-is-so-much-more2

You’re not really being sexually abstinent either, which is a concept that is often confused with celibacy. Sexual abstinence is refraining from any kind of sexual activity with others or alone.

Ya know why it’s important to differentiate between the two? I’ll tell ya. There are a lot of people who are celibate (i.e. not married), but who are being sexual, by themselves or with others (like you for example). There are also lots of people who are married (i.e. not celibate), but who are refraining from being sexual with themselves or others for any number of reasons. And, of course, there are celibates who are also sexually abstinent.  Ya see, if we are careless with our vocabulary when describing ourselves, we aren’t able to clearly share with one another who we are, what we are doing, or what we want to do. Get it? Got it? Good!

I’m also gonna go way out on a limb here and guess that you’re a Catholic or a fundamentalist Christian, or was raised as one. Who else would use the term “fornicate” when talking about having sex with his GF?

tantraWhile technically you are correct, in “church-speak” unmarried partners who fuck are fornicating. This is opposed to adultery, which is a when a married person fucks someone other than his or her husband or wife. The term fornicate has a very pejorative connotation. It’s a word religious people use to describe sinful behavior. Is fucking your girlfriend sinful, Richard? If it is, stop fucking her right away! If it isn’t, then don’t refer to your sexual relations with her as fornication. If you can’t bring yourself to use the term “fuck” to talk about what you two do together, there are plenty of other less negative euphemisms. For example, intercourse, or even coitus works. Just not fornication!

Now, on to the very interesting sexual practice you describe in your message. If it isn’t a “type” of celibacy, what is it? I think you maybe talking about a tantric sex practice. You have sex — solo as well as partnered sex — but you avoid ejaculating, right? You don’t really go on to say why you do this other than you seem to believe you conserve energy this way. Tantric practitioners talk about this practice in similar terms — preserving one energy or chi. And that’s what leads me to think what you’re doing is a form of tantra.

Tantric sex is very interesting, if for no other reason it distinguishes between orgasm and ejaculation. Although they often happen at the same time, men are capable of having orgasms without ejaculating. Perhaps, you’re already discovered this. Ejaculatory control, which is what I think you are doing, is what makes it possible for Tantric lovers to harness and extend the energy of orgasm. By refraining from, or holding off on an ejaculation, men can become multi-orgasmic. Some men achieve this by a practice known as edging or controlling the wave of orgasmic energy without ejaculating.tantric-sex

Further, you ask if there are any drugs that can help you regain your strength, or chi after you finally ejaculate. Rather than seek a pharmaceutical solution, why not delve deeper into tantra for the answers you seek. You are already more than half way there. You might want to look into chi power training too. Because, if I’m not mistaken, that’s what you’re actually talking about.

Good luck

What Happens To Men Who Stay Abstinent Until Marriage?

by Sarah Diefendorf

Russell Wilson and his girlfriend Ciara

Seattle Seahawks quarterback Russell Wilson and his girlfriend Ciara arrive at a White House State Dinner in April.

Seattle Seahawks quarterback Russell Wilson and his girlfriend, the singer Ciara, recently announced plans to remain sexually abstinent until marriage.

It was a vow that came as a surprise to many. After all, sexual purity is a commitment that is historically expected of, associated with – even demanded of – women. However, sexual abstinence is not something assumed of men, especially men like Russell Wilson.

Wilson, an accomplished, attractive athlete, embodies contemporary ideals of masculinity, which include style, wealth and, yes, sexual prowess.

So how does a man like Russell Wilson navigate a commitment to abstinence while upholding ideals of masculinity? Wilson’s status as an athlete and heartthrob is likely giving him what sociologist CJ Pascoe calls “jock insurance.” In other words, due to his celebrity status, he can make traditionally nonmasculine choices without having his masculinity questioned.

But what does it mean for a man who isn’t in the limelight, who makes a similar type of commitment to abstinence? And what does it mean for the women they date, and might eventually marry?

I’ve been researching men who pledge sexual abstinence since 2008, work that comes out of a larger scholarly interest in masculinities, religion and sex education.

While men make this commitment with the good intentions for a fulfilling marriage and sex life, my research indicates that the beliefs about sexuality and gender that come hand in hand with these pledges of abstinence do not necessarily make for an easy transition to a married sexual life.

Who’s Pledging “Purity?”

Comedian Joy Behar recently joked that abstinence is what you do after you’ve been married for a long time. Here, Behar makes two assumptions. One is that sexual activity declines both with age and the time spent in a relationship. This is true.

The second is that abstinence is not something you do before marriage. For the most part, this is true as well: by age 21, 85% of men and 81% of women in the United States have engaged in sexual intercourse.

purity ringIf we compare these numbers to the average age of first marriage in the United States – 27 for women, and 29 for men – we get the picture: most people are having sex before marriage.

Still, some in the United States are making “virginity pledges,” and commit to abstinence until marriage. Most of the data that exist on this practice show that those who make the pledges will do so in high school, often by either signing a pledge card or donning a purity ring.

Research on this population tells us a few things: that those who pledge are more likely to be young women, and that – regardless of gender – an abstinence pledge delays the onset of sexual activity by only 18 months. Furthermore, taking a virginity pledge will often encourage other types of sexual behavior.

Virgins In Guyland

But little is known about men who pledge and navigate this commitment to abstinence.

I was curious about how men maintain pledges in light of these statistics, and also balance them with expectations about masculinity. So in 2008, I began researching a support group of 15 men at an Evangelical church in the Southwest. All members were white, in their early to mid-20’s, single or casually dating – and supporting each other in their decisions to remain abstinent until marriage.

The group, called The River, met once a week, where, sitting on couches, eating pizza or talking about video games, they’d eventually gravitate toward the topic that brought them all together in the first place: sex.

On the surface, it would seem impossible for these men to participate in what sociologist Michael Kimmel calls “Guyland” – a developmental and social stage driven by a “guy code” that demands, among other things, sexual conquest and detached intimacy.

Rather, the men of The River approach sex as something sacred, a gift from God meant to be enjoyed in the confines of the marriage bed. At the same time, these men struggle with what they describe as the “beastly elements” – or temptations – of sexuality. And it is precisely because of these so-called beastly elements that these men find each other in the same space every week.

The men of The River grappled with pornography use, masturbation, lust and same-sex desire, all of which can potentially derail these men from their pledge.

It raises an interesting dilemma: to these men, sex is both sacred and beastly. Yet the way they navigate this seeming contradiction actually allows them to exert their masculinity in line with the demands of Guyland.

Group members had an elaborate network of accountability partners to help them resist temptations. For example, one had an accountability partner who viewed his weekly online browsing history to make sure he wasn’t looking at pornography. Another accountability partner texted him each night to make sure that he and his girlfriend were “behaving.”

While these behaviors may seem unusual, they work in ways that allow men to actually assert their masculinity. Through what sociologist Amy Wilkins calls “collective performances of temptation,” these men are able to discuss just how difficult it is to refrain from the beastly urges; in this way, they reinforce the norm that they are highly sexual men, even in the absence of sexual activity.

The River, as a support group, works largely in the same way. These men are able to confirm their sexual desires in a homosocial space – similar to Kimmel’s research in Guyland – from which Kimmel notes that the “actual experience of sex pales in comparison to the experience of talking about sex.”

A ‘Sacred Gift’ – With Mixed Returns

The men of The River believed that the time and work required to maintain these pledges would pay off in the form of a happy and healthy marriage.

Ciara, in discussing her commitment to abstinence with Russell Wilson, similarly added that she believes such a promise is important for creating a foundation of love and friendship. She stated that, “if we have that [base] that strong, we can conquer anything with our love.”

So what happened once after the men of The River got married? In 2011, I followed up with them.

All but one had gotten married. But while the transition to married life brought promises of enjoying their “sacred gift from God,” this gift was fraught.

Respondents reported that they still struggled with the beastly elements of sexuality. They also had the added concern of extramarital affairs. Furthermore – and perhaps most importantly – men no longer had the support to work through these temptations.

There were two reasons behind this development.

First, respondents had been told, since they were young, that women were nonsexual. At the same time, these men had also been taught that their wives would be available for their pleasure.

It’s a double standard that’s in line with longstanding cultural ideals of the relationship between femininity and purity. But it’s a contradiction that leaves men unwilling to open up to the very women they’re having sex with.

These married men and women were not talking to each other about sex. Rather than freely discussing sex or temptation with their wives (as they had done with their accountability partners), the men simply tried to suppress temptation by imagining the devastation any sexual deviations might cause their wives.

after marriage

After marriage, the men felt left to their own devices.

Second, these men could no longer reach out to their support networks due to their own ideals of masculinity. They had been promised a sacred gift: a sexually active, happy marriage. Yet many weren’t fully satisfied, as evidenced by the continued tension between the sacred and beastly. However, to open up about these continued struggles would be to admit failure as masculine, Christian man.

In the end, the research indicates that a pledge of sexual abstinence works to uphold an ideal of masculinity that disadvantages both men and women.

After 25 years of being told that sex is something dangerous that needs to be controlled, the transition to married (and sexual) life is difficult, at best, while leaving men without the support they need. Women, meanwhile, are often left out of the conversation entirely.

So when we urge abstinence in place of healthy conversations about sex and sexuality, we may be undermining the relationships that are the driving goal of these commitments in the first place.

Complete Article HERE!

An (extremely long) Tale Of Woe

First Name: Sam
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Location: North Carolina, USA
Wow, where do I even begin….

I am a 22-year-old gay male and believe that I may have SOME form of erectile dysfunction. I emphasize “some” because it is possible for me to get hard, firm erections, but I’m ALWAYS by myself when I do.

I have been able to give myself orgasms since I was in preschool. I did not masturbate the “traditional” way that men do (or ejaculate) until I was in 6th grade. Before that, I would lay down with my hands cupped around my crotch area and would “hump” into them until I felt an orgasm sensation and would then stop. In 6th grade I began to look at gay internet porn, and, seeing how most of those men masturbated, began to emulate the process. I even practiced “edging” often, beginning in 6th grade, as I had read on the internet at that time that it built up sexual stamina and led to powerful orgasms.PERFORMANCE_ANXIETY_pic_02_3

I would say that since I’ve been able to have orgasms (beginning in preschool), I would have one usually at least once a day. There were days here and there where I wouldn’t, but I guess an average would be 6 out of 7 days per week, with an average of twice per day. Of course, it’s hard to average them out since I’ve been having them for so long.

I did not start having sexual intercourse until my freshman year of college when I was 18, with my roommate at that time. Even that first time, I had problems maintaining my erection. I also had to use my hand and masturbate in order to have the orgasm, which took much longer than when I’m by myself. My roommate and I engaged in sexual intercourse regularly for the latter 2 and a half months of my freshman year, and every time, I had to have an orgasm by masturbating. Oral sex would not work, his hand would not work, and we did not engage in anal sex.

From ages 19-20, I had very little intercourse, but regularly masturbated (almost always to porn), and had no problems maintaining an erection and achieving orgasms. I hooked up with older men occasionally during this time, and again, could not have an orgasm unless I masturbated. It was also slightly more difficult to get an erection than by myself watching porn, and always took me longer to achieve orgasm than by myself. I had my first experience with anal sex (as a “top”) during this time as well, and could not ever reach orgasm, same with oral sex and hand-jobs.

When I was 20 I met and began dating my first boyfriend. We were together for 10 months, and while I enjoyed my time with him, our sex life was poor. We did not engage in anal sex except once, because we both considered ourselves tops. The one time we engaged in anal sex I tried to be the bottom, but did not enjoy it at all and had to stop. We did engage in oral sex, but I could never achieve orgasm that way. Again, I had to masturbate in order to have an orgasm. Not only that, but I began to have significant trouble sometimes to get an erection. Also, it took a lot longer for me to reach orgasm when I masturbated with him. By myself with porn, I could reach orgasm as quickly as 5-7 minutes. With him, it often took me at least 20 minutes, and it was usually 25-35 minutes.

loving legsAfter we broke up, I began to hookup a little more frequently then I had in the past, but it was not that often. Whenever I did, again, I always had to masturbate to achieve orgasm, and it took me a long time to do so. AND, during some of these hookups, I simply could not even achieve orgasm myself, as I started to have difficulty maintaining or even getting an erection. I highly doubt it was because of my sexual partners, because I would not hookup with someone I was not sexually attracted to. Also, I usually could have erections during foreplay, but when it came to the “big finish” my erection would start to wane or just become completely soft, and nothing I did or thought about changed that. Once, I achieved orgasm from barebacking (which I have not done since and luckily did not contract HIV or an STD), and there was also only one time where I hooked up with a guy and achieved orgasm from him giving me oral sex, although I believe this was because I refrained from masturbating for the past few days beforehand.

I am 22 now, and am starting to worry that I will not be able to ever have any good sex with someone else other than myself. In almost all of my most recent hookups, I have had to use a cockring to get an erection, and even then sometimes it doesn’t even help. Also, in almost all of my most recent hookups, it either takes me around 30 minutes to masturbate to orgasm, or I simply can’t have an orgasm because of lack of an erection. However, if I am by myself watching porn, I do not have any trouble getting and maintaining “rock-hard” erections and reaching orgasm.

I have become particularly concerned about this problem now, because I have begun to date someone and engage in sex with him for the past few weeks. When we first had sex I topped him anally and had a good erection. But we still masturbated together to completion. Ever since the first time though, I have had a LOT of difficulty just getting an erection period. Cockrings do not help, and oral sex and foreplay don’t really help either. Sometimes when we make out for a while I’ll start to get kind of hard, but then when I try to get ready to penetrate him or simply masturbate with him, I’ll go soft again. I’ve been able to reach orgasms sometimes when I masturbate with him, but my penis is usually semi-soft when I reach orgasm, and again, it takes more effort and certainly more time to do so then when I’m alone watching porn. He is incredibly good FleshJacklooking, good at sex, and very passionate, so I know it is not him. Luckily, he does not mind when I cannot perform, he says he likes me for me and that everything is fine, and he thinks that I shouldn’t worry about it. But at this point, I really can’t help but worry about it…

The last time this problem happened I had willingly decided to not have an orgasm for three days beforehand, hoping that it would help the issue. But unfortunately, it did not help or change anything. I’ve decided to completely stop viewing or watching any pornography whatsoever, and have also decided that when I masturbate I will avoid as much contact with my hand and, instead, use my FleshJack (the gay version of FleshLight) with the “Squeeze” texture (their most “realistic” anal texture). I have not had sex with him since I decided this (which is the day I’ve written this question, May 27, 2015).

I apologize for this EXTREMELY long inquiry, but I didn’t want to leave out any details of my sexual history in case they were important. I’m wondering if masturbating regularly since preschool has anything to do with my poor performance. And I’ve considered that I’m “overthinking everything” when I engage in sex and maybe that’s preventing me from getting erections with other men, but I’m such a sexual person that I can’t think of anything but dirty, sexual thoughts when I’m with another man, yet it just doesn’t seem to work. I do start to focus on not being able to get an erection if I’m not getting one for 5-10 minutes, but during that time beforehand, I’m not thinking about anything other than the pleasure, so I don’t see what I’m doing wrong. The problem is beginning to be REALLY embarrassing and I’m concerned that if I’m already having these problems at only 22 years of age, I’ll likely have the worst of erectile dysfunction problems in the future.

I suppose my main questions are:
1) What could be causing this to happen?
2) Is my proposed method of completely avoiding porn and masturbation via my hand an appropriate solution?
3) Do you have any specific suggestions or general advice that can help me with this problem and/or my sex life?

Again, I apologize if this is way too long; I’ve just never been so concerned about it before. I’m 22, I should be able to get rock hard erections easily, but I feel like a 70 year old man who just “can’t get it up.” ANY advice you can give me will be sincerely appreciated.

Whew, Sam, that was like the War And Peace of sex advice questions.

It’s perfectly clear that you are worried about your sexual response. But I’m gonna guess that your worry is actually making things worse. Before I respond to your three questions, I want to say; get thee to a therapist! You need to sit down with a sex-positive therapist and work through this stuff with him/her. This is super important, don’t just blow it off. If you need a referral, see the Directory of the American College of Sexologists to find someone in your neck of the woods. I also offer remote therapy via Skype or phone. See my Therapy Available page.

whewNow to your questions in the order you asked them…
1) What could be causing this to happen?
Everything you tell me points to performance anxiety. I’ve written and spoken a great deal about this issue over the years. Use the CATEGORIES pull down menu in the sidebar to your right. Scroll down till you find the main category, Sex Therapy. Under it you will find the sub category, Performance Anxiety.  You’ll find tons of information.

2) Is my proposed method of completely avoiding porn and masturbation via my hand an appropriate solution?
It might be, but not for the reason you suspect. Again, you need to discuss this with a therapist. It’s important and more involved than I have time and space to lay it out for you.

3) Do you have any specific suggestions or general advice that can help me with this problem and/or my sex life?
Yeah, chill the fuck out! Honesty, that’s the best thing you can do right now. Then, with the help of a therapist, work through your problems, put in place a program to rebuild your partnered psychosexual response one step at a time. You’ll probably begin with sensate focus training, stress reduction, and relaxation exercises.

SEO Powered by Platinum SEO from Techblissonline