“How often can I ask for a blowjob before I am just being an asshole?”

A client wants his female partner to perform oral sex more often. He has asked her many times over the course of their relationship and she has said that she really doesn’t like to do it. She finds it dirty (and not in a good way). It is a big turn off for her. He isn’t willing to leave the relationship over it but it really bothers him. And no, she doesn’t want to go to couples therapy. He asks the therapist, “How often can I ask for a blowjob before I am just being an asshole?”

Quick: What is your answer?

How did you formulate your answer?

How might it be different if the topic wasn’t sex? Or if instead of oral sex he wanted her to kiss him? Or to have anal sex?

How might your answer be different if the genders were different?

Does it make a difference if they have been together for six weeks, six months or six years?

When does advocating for something that is important to us turn into badgering or coercion? This question comes up in lots of parts of the life or a couple but it can be particularly provocative in the context of sex because power, gender and shame are so close to the surface. We also as a culture have a sense that the potential harm to a person and/or a relationship of being coerced about sex is greater than being coerced about other things. As therapists, we often encourage clients to assert their needs and wants, particularly in the context of romantic relationships. And of we think of ourselves as sex-positive therapists, we encourage people to do that in regards to sex. We also encourage people to set limits. The yin to the yang of the first question is “How bad does it have to be before I say, ‘Stop?’”

We can tell clients to ‘tune into their feelings’ but often people have conflicting feelings about another’s sexual requests/demands; I’m scared I’ll feel dirty later, I want to be accommodating of my partner, I want to be sexually adventurous, I resent that they are asking for what they want, I worry that my own hang-ups may be getting in the way of our shared fun etc. If our clients’ feelings were clear they would either say “stop” or “go.”

When clients are unclear about where assertiveness becomes coercion, or where accommodation becomes capitulation, therapists may apply a “I know it when I see it” approach, explicitly or implicitly applying their own standards (if you are tempted to tell a client “What your partner is doing is inappropriate” ask yourself if that might be a way of saying that you don’t like it). Or they may resort to tautologies; ‘well-differentiated people are assertive but poorly differentiated people are coercive.’

I think it is a misapprehension that there is a clear, bright line between these things. We can all agree on cases at one end or another but there is a lot of room for the therapists’s own subjective, value-laden ideas to come in in the middle. I find it one of the areas where I most struggle with how much or how little to bring my own values into therapy, because these questions “Am I just being an asshole?” and “How bad does it have to be?” are values questions.

Fun, not toys

Sometimes I hear from couples that they bought a sex toy in the hopes of reinvigorating their sex lives. Many of them find that the toys quickly end up in a nest of of tangled charger cables in the night-table drawer. Once upon a time, vibrators and dildos were called “marital aids” then they got restyled as sex toys in an attempt to connect them with play, enjoyment, fun. Play is a great intention to have for sex. Sex 'toys' may help to achieve that and if they do, that is fantastic, but they may not and sometimes they can hinder fun.

Orgasm isn't the goal of good sex

Sex toys such dildos, vibrators, butt plugs, cock rings, prostate massagers work by stimulating whatever part or the body they touch; usually the genitals or nearby, increasing and or changing physical stimulation. This can be good if a person's genitals need more or different stimulation in order to have a good time during sex. But that isn't the big missing ingredient to having more fun in bed for most people I work with. They want their sex lives to be more... more passionate, more dangerous, more sexy, more loving, more playful, more sensual, more rough, more something. Dan Savage once talked about being on a panel with the late Shirley Glass, a researcher and couples therapist. She said that the brain is the biggest and most important sex organ in a human is between the ears. Dan Savage asked, “But how do I put my dick in it?”. This is a deep sexual koan. People want a vibrator that will stimulate their sexual heart/soul/mind/brain. Stimulating the genitals is a very indirect way to “put your dick in it”. 

Play

Toys and play have a complex and fleeting relationship. Many parents can attest to buying a toy which is neglected by their kid in favour of the box it came in. Imagination, flexibility in thinking and feeling, presence, a sense of capability and possibility are characteristics of play. That's also a pretty good headspace for a gratifying sexual experience. Stimulating the genitals or anus may cause more arousal or change or even intensify the quality of an orgasm but becoming hyper-focused on genital sensation is not the same thing as having a good time in bed. In fact, sometimes the former is the death of the latter. Intensifying physical sensation can cause a person to lose track of other things. That can be wonderful in the case of being swept away in a sexual experience. It can also be a distraction from other satisfactions that a wider kind of attention can bring. Many couples become like the hiker who is so focused on the map that they are not seeing the terrain, hyper focused on arousal and orgasm and unable to attend to emotional connection or play or desire, the less physiological but equally important parts of sex. This tendency isn't helped by the focus of modern sexological interventions.

Genital response has been the be-all-and-end-all of sex research for a long time. That is because it is relatively easy for researchers to measure erections or vaginal lubrication or ejaculations or orgasms, easier than measuring things like fun, sexy, adventurous, scary-in-a-good-way, dirty-in-a-good-way, whatever it is that two (or more) people are looking for in sex. Arousal and/or orgasm may be a part of that, even a big part but it does not have to be the goal of sex any more than reproduction has to be. The idea that the physical manifestations of arousal and orgasm are essential in sex is very ingrained in us despite a lot of evidence to the contrary. I have worked with plenty of couples where both partners have orgasms and they don't particularly like their sex lives. I have also seen lots of couples where one or both partners have very gratifying sexual experiences without having much vaginal wetness, or an erection or an orgasm. 

The couples I see who want to work on their sex lives generally aren't having difficulty with the mechanics of arousal or orgasm. That is why I have never prescribed a vibrator for a couple to improve their sex life, nor do I prescribe particular sexual techniques. If I thought that might be needed I would refer the couple to a sex therapist or pelvic floor physio-therapist.

Prescriptions

People have a lot of 'shoulds' in their minds about sex: “I should lose weight to enjoy sex more”; “I should relax more”; “I should be more assertive”; “I should be less assertive”; “I should have an orgasm/give my partner an orgasm, a bigger orgasm, a better erection, a wetter vagina”. It makes it tough to be playful when you are ticking off boxes. Attending to a partner's pleasure is a good thing overall but it can definitely get in the way of play, like any other 'should'. On top of a lot of sexual obligation, many couples have a lot of other shoulds relating to kids, family, work. I don't want to add to a couples' feeling of sex as a bunch of things on a long list of hard-to-meet expectations and constraints. I use prescriptions cautiously in regards to sex, and always with the hope of creatingmorepsychological and emotional flexibility, more presence, more feeling of capability. Sometimes I prescribe a week or two of no-orgasm sex to see what they can come up with that feels like sex when they aren't oriented to genital stimulation. Sometimes, I get them to reminisce about times they felt sexy together or to actively fantasize about one another and to identify what they find sexy as a way to start to think and talk about what they want out of sex now. Sometimes I prescribe reflecting on how they would act if they viewed their sex lives as super resilient. Sometimes I prescribe a set time for sex, with sex defined very broadly as 'whatever feels sexy.' All of this with the caveat that they treat with curiosity whatever internal or interactional things come up that make it difficult to be sexual. 

In short, we focus on fun, not on toys.

"He's now, he's then, he's every f*&king when." Roy Kent, asynchronous lover

We have all learned a lot over COVID about 'asynchronous' learning, pre-recorded lessons as part of training or a class as well as mixed, synchronous/asynchronous learning. In the show Ted Lasso, Roy Kent the crusty newly-retired footballer finds his girlfriend Keeley masturbating to a video on her phone. The audience is primed to see an argument, but Roy takes it in fun and doesn't shame her but he is curious. He is surprised to find that what she is wanking to is the press conference where he announced his retirement from football at which he uncharacteristically sobbed uncontrollably. She finds his emotional vulnerability hot. Later, Roy hands Keeley her phone and headphones, cues up the video and goes down on her while she watches him cry.

Roy accepts that Keeley finds something about him hot that he disdains. He knows it will be hard for him to offer her that synchronously so he gives it to her asynchronously. What's more he joins in the fun synchronously. Keeley for her part doesn't view this as a cop-out. She is grateful and views his act as generous. She jumps into the moment with enthusiasm.

To my knowledge this is the first pop-culture depiction of a positive, monogamous mixed synchronous/asynchronous sexual/emotional encounter.

Ted Lasso takes place in a universe similar to our own in which people default to behaving kindly and generously with one another.

What if we could cue up the moment when our partners found us hottest and deliver it to them in a spirit of generosity? What if we could accept that our partners finds things hot about us that we don't particularly find sexy. What if we viewed that as wonderful rather than feeling unseen?

What if we leveraged asynchrony in relationships for connection rather than let awareness of our differences turn us off from one another?

Yesterday's intercourse

I have become very interested in how couples therapists can better integrate sexuality into couples therapy. Sex is sometimes viewed by therapists as very separate from other elements of the relationship or else as a by-product of relationship rather than an important and complex sub-system of peoples relationship. I have been looking for professional writing about integrating sexuality and couples therapy and came across the work of the late researcher Harold Lief. That lead me to this gem. It feels both so far away and so familiar. I don’t know whether these folks are actors; they are so extraordinarily real seeming but they hit so many of the familiar points in this situation that it seems scripted. So much has changed since this video was recorded but so much has remained the same both in couples lives and couples therapy.

The paradox of the sexy guitar player

Clients often talk about finding their partner sexiest when that person is intensely engaged in something that they love; music, art, intense conversation. It makes sense. They are vital in those moments, they have a kind of intensity that is alluring, particularly if they are good at what they are doing. The musician is a great example. Is there anybody sexier than a rock musician?

This presents a problem. Interrupt the flow of the music to try to connect erotically and 1. the thing that made the other person sexy ceases and/or 2. the other person is deeply engaged with something and the interruption may feel very unsexy to them.

Another dimension to this paradox: Can I accept being the object of my partner’s desire? Amanda Luterman talks about Erotic Empathy; the ability to believe I am sexy to my partner. That can be a lot harder than it sounds. Is it easier for me to desire someone else when the focus of that intensity isn’t on me? Does someone else actively focusing on me erotically shut down my eroticism? If I find someone sexy while they are playing guitar but not when they are actively seducing me, how will I ever take yes for an answer?

Teen use of internet porn. When is it time to panic?

The ubiquity of pornography has got to be one of the biggest changes in society in my lifetime.  An acquaintance asked me what I thought the long-term effects of total access to porn would be for shaping the sexuality of kids growing up today and I really had no idea how to answer.  There is much heat and little light on the subject because sexuality in general and kids' sexuality in particular is such a fraught topic.  

On the one hand, today's nearly unlimited access to pornography via the internet is part of the demystification of sexuality which has been building steam over the last one hundred years.  It is connected -- at least in a six-degrees-of-fornication kind of way -- to changes which I view as absolute social goods, like decriminalizing miscegenation and homosexuality, allowing women (and everybody) a greater degree of control over reproduction and generally removing some of the shame from sexuality for everyone, male, female, gay, straight etc.  It is worth remembering that lynchings of non-white men for sex with white women, death by back-alley abortion and 'curbing' of gay people are pieces of North American history that happened within living memory (and are practices some would like us to return to).  The impulse to curb sexual freedom, including the freedom to view porn, can be an instrument of sexual repression and shame.  A lot of the conversation about pornography and young people -- any sexual topic and young people for that matter -- seems to smack of a old-person's cocktail of wistfulness and resentment ie. "If I can't have lots of crazy sex, then nobody should."  

On the other hand, pornography has to own some of the criticisms made of it; it is hugely male-oriented and at least some significant portion is downright anti-women.  It seems pretty intuitive that a barrage of woman-degrading porn would do anybody's developing sexuality harm.  More generally, porn is, by definition, commercial sexual objectification.  Young men and women who grow up viewing sexuality (and we are talking largely about women's sexuality) as an object for purchase or trade, rather than a subjective experience seem more likely to generalize some of those lessons to non-porn sex.  These are both arguments that can be made about any type of pornography.  There is also a particular techno-bent to some anti-porn writing that makes the argument that a quantitative difference of the internet makes for a qualitative difference. 

“What happens when you drop a male rat into a cage with a receptive female rat? First, you see a frenzy of copulation. Then, progressively, the male tires of that particular female. Even if she wants more, he has had enough. However, replace the original female with a fresh one, and the male immediately revives and gallantly struggles to fertilize her.
You can repeat this process with fresh females until he is completely wiped out.
This is called the Coolidge effect—the automatic response to novel mates. It’s what started you down the road to getting hooked on Internet porn.”

— http://yourbrainonporn.com/doing-what-you-evolved-to-do

Digression:  Perhaps 2014 should be the year that nobody says "The area of the brain that lights up when..."  Regular readers will know that I am sceptical of some of the claims of 'brain science'.  The next post on "Your brain on porn" has fMRI images showing how sections of the brain "light up" when exposed to porn which proves that the subjects of the brain scans are addicted much as people get addicted to heroin. ( A primer on fMRI goofiness. )  Here is a picture of a dead fish in a fMRI with its brain lighting up when asked to imagine humans in social situations.

End digression:  There is a growing set of men who say that they are addicted to internet porn and/or incapable of erections with actual humans as a result of using porn regularly.  This is a tough claim to verify since it is so subjective.  Men may experience less frequent erections and attribute that to the use of porn; that doesn't necessarily mean that was the primary cause.  That is what is known as the post hoc ergo propter hoc fallacy.  It does seem to make intuitive sense that if you don't masturbate for a long time you are more likely to experience an erection in a particular circumstance.  It also seems like it would be pretty hard to look at a lot of porn and avoid masturbating, so the two do go hand in glove (as it were). There is a whole online Nofap community where people, mostly men, pledge to stop masturbating and/or viewing porn.  They support one another to achieve goals in days.  When does this shade over into shaming a normal and healthy sexual behaviour that has already been the target of a lot of shame?  I wrote a blog post a while ago about Marty Klein's argument that the term "sex addiction" is a way for people living in a sex negative culture not to address their sexual desires about which they feel incredible shame. 

There are a couple of things I am pretty confident about in all of this. 

1.  The whole "erectile dysfunction" piece of the conversation about porn and masturbation needs to get scaled way back.  Men are easily goaded into thinking that a rock hard penis is the only legitimate route to sex.  That's false and it isn't good for men's sexuality (or for their partners).  Start having sex without an erection and you may get one.  Keep having sex after an erection goes away, and it may come back.  But if you make having and maintaining an erection a prerequisite, that can mean a lot of heart ache.  Paradoxically, lots of porn and lots of nofap both seem to perpetuate the myth of no sex without an erection. 

2.  Porn is not sex education.  Teens need to know that what they will see in porn is not what happens between most people's sheets. Talking to teens about what porn is and isn't is part of the job description of every parent, and that needs to go beyond telling them it's bad or women-hating.  Porn:Human Sex::2Fast2Furious:Driving.  A fantasy. 

3. Teens will try to make their own porn.  Not every teen but plenty of them.  Maybe not your kid but plenty of kids your kid knows.  As Dan Savage has pointed out, smart phones are -- among other things -- mobile porn production and distribution suites.  And parents hand them over to kids without thinking about or talking about that.  If you must give your teen a smart phone, disable the camera.  Tell your kids you will search through the contents of their phones and then follow through.  Millions of adult Americans use their phones this way, should we expect teens to act any more maturely? 

Your therapist, Ron Swanson?

Men often fear that therapy is stacked against them.  Whether it is couple, family or individual therapy, they think that they are entering a domain where their skills and strengths will be counted as liabilities and they will be asked to do things that aren't just difficult or scary but unbecoming.  That isn't a man problem.  That's a therapy problem.  I was talking recently with another male therapist, Dr. Darrell Johnson, a friend and mentor.  I mentioned this campaign to him... (Okay, it isn't Ron Swanson but a Ron Swanson knock-off.)

It is from the Office of Suicide Prevention of the Colorado Department of Public Health and Environment.  It's geared at connecting with men, particularly working-age 25-54 men who are twice as likely to commit suicide as any other age group according to the white paper that was used to develop the Mantherapy campaign (US stats).  Darrell and I talked about the idea that men are typically more resistant to therapy (part of what accounts for their higher suicide rates than women).  I joked that soon it would be possible for therapists to use cookies to give different design templates to their websites so that women and men would be presented with different web sites that are gender specific since too much "feelings" language might be off-putting for men, essentially presenting themselves as Rick Mahogany when men click through.  But the Colorado campaign doesn't seem to have been a raging success despite the high production values.  The Richard Mahogany video that has the most views on YouTube is at around 8,000.  Maybe those are 8,000 saved lives and if so, great, but I don't imagine that therapy's problem with men has been touched much.  I think the character seems inauthentic, not just playfully unreal, and for men or women authenticity in therapy is important. 

There were a few things in the white paper that I thought were really interesting for therapists to consider about working with men, things that hadn't occurred to me despite having worked with boys and men a lot.  One is the value men often place on fixing something themselves and how to make therapy an exercise in 'solving it myself (or ourselves) with help'.  One man said to the researchers of the white paper, "Show me how to stitch up my own wound like Rambo."  Okay, that's some pretty serious hyper-masculinity but the point is that therapy can benefit from emphasizing the client's efficacy in problem-solving with the therapist as trusted assistant. 

The other thing that I thought was really wonderful was the importance some men place on giving back.  I was in Hawaii last year.  A companion and I went kayaking.  We visited a small island and had a great time but when we went to get back in our kayak, we got hit by several waves in succession and my companion got knocked over in the surf and couldn't get up.  I watched, barely able to keep myself afloat trapped on the other side of the kayak thinking I might very well see this strong, capable person drown before my eyes in three and half feet of water.  But before that could happen two kayakers (much more capable than us) grabbed our kayak and my companion, hoisting him out of the water.  I thanked them.  They said, "That's what we do."  They viewed helping as part and parcel of who they were.  I, on the other hand, felt grateful but unsatisfied as they paddled away.  I couldn't pay back the debt I owed them.  Therapy is a uni-directional process as far as help goes; codes of ethics forbid outside relationships so it is very hard for a client to pay his debt with his skills through labour exchange or barter.  I never thought about how important it can be for some clients to be able to show their competency and mastery to a therapist by doing meaningful work or sharing their own products, to give help for help received, and that men might feel that more acutely.  The report points out how central the idea of repaying a debt is to AA, for instance.  Now I am considering requiring clients in some circumstances to agree to pay part of the cost of therapy by "paying forward" to others using their own strengths and capabilities (see the Milwaukee African Violet Queen).  Ron, would like the idea of paying off your therapy by carving duck decoys with kids in an after-school program? 

"I'm a a bit fearful that we are verging on what I call 'feelings territory.'"