This article contains content of a sexual nature that is intended for adults only
Dr Emily Morse was still faking orgasms in her mid-thirties — now the sex educator’s podcast has two million downloads a month. So what’s the key to great sex? Communication and a sexual bucket list.
During a getaway with a boyfriend, Emily Morse enjoyed 23 orgasms in just one day. “I had orgasms during intercourse, using sex toys, when we were just playing,” she says. Was she tallying them with an abacus? “No! Just counting in my head. Because it’s kind of amazing when you think I went from faking orgasms to that.”
To paraphrase When Harry Met Sally, who wouldn’t like to have just a fraction of what Morse is having? Happily the Los Angeles-based sexpert, who has a hugely popular podcast, Sex with Emily (averaging almost two million downloads a month), and now her first book, Smart Sex (“I should have put ‘23 orgasms’ on the cover!”), coming out, promises we can emulate her. “Every woman can multiple-orgasm, we just limit ourselves in so many ways.”
After all, as Morse — 53 but looking two decades younger with flowing locks and in a silky blouse —alluded, great sex took her years to discover. She lost her virginity at 17 but was 23 when she had her first orgasm through masturbation. At 35, with several relationships behind her, she was often still faking it with Oscar-standard back-arching and moaning to massage partners’ egos. “I assumed sex was supposed to feel good automatically. When it didn’t I thought there was something wrong with me,” she says. “But I’m a bit of an overachiever, so I was like, ‘I’m not enjoying it, while my partner appears to be having a good time — I’m going to learn what is actually going on.’ "
Morse was far from alone in her ignorance. Despite (but also because of) our hypersexualised culture, the majority of her audience — who range “between 18 and 83″, although most are millennials (The New York Times has described her as the Dr Ruth of a new generation), and split equally male/female — is just as clueless about how to have the best possible sex. “It’s problematic: every single day I’m talking to a young woman who’s in the same place I was all those years ago, not understanding her body, having sex to please a partner rather than prioritising her own pleasure.”
The reason, she says, is “a dearth of information. Sex education is not great in schools — even when it’s OK, it’s about fear and judgment, not pleasure and joy. People are not comfortable talking about sex. We do it but we don’t understand it. It’s like driving a car without a licence.”
Porn’s ubiquity has only left people more confused, struggling to follow an unrealistic blueprint. “Porn is how most people learn about sex. It’s inaccurate and it’s misleading them, and we’re not correcting it,” Morse says. “I’d love to film something where I’m watching porn. I’d stop the screen and be like, ‘This is not real. This probably doesn’t feel very good to her. He’s not really ejaculating. This isn’t really his penis, he probably took a pill before this, there’s make-up on her clitoris.’ Because without that commentary we just assume that’s how sex is going to happen.”
Originally from Michigan, Morse started out in politics, running a campaign for San Francisco’s first African-American mayor, Willie Brown, about whom she also made a documentary. In 2005 she planned another documentary, about sex, but realised podcasting — then in its infancy — would be a better medium, allowing listeners to speak anonymously and frankly about their experiences. As downloads soared, she “read thousands of books, experimented with sex parties, used tons of toys”. She also gained a doctorate at California’s Institute for Advanced Study of Human Sexuality. “I saw all the ways I’d been blocking my own pleasure. After that you can’t go back.”
Nearly two decades on the world has changed hugely. “There’s no longer this stigma about dating apps, everyone uses them, so casual sex is more accepted.” Largely owing to porn, “there’s less of a taboo about certain sex acts. And sex toys have certainly improved.”
Yet listeners’ questions are still exactly the same as they were 18 years ago. “There’s so much shame and confusion. I can’t go to a dinner party without people having questions for me, and those questions are mainly, ‘Am I OK? Am I normal?’ — because we still haven’t normalised the sex conversation.”
Apart from stocking up on lube (“One of my dreams is a lube on every nightstand”), Morse’s main tip is to learn through masturbation what exactly floats your sexual boat, then communicate it to your partner. “It’s what we do with food: growing up you learn from tasting the menu, ‘I love chicken, I don’t like fish, I like vanilla ice cream, not chocolate.’ Then when you’re in a restaurant you know what to order. It should be the same when it comes to advocating for what you want in the bedroom.”
To help these conversations, Morse’s book includes diagrams of sexual positions and an alphabetical “sexual bucket list” of practices to give couples a framework to discuss what appeals and what’s off limits.
Compromises may be necessary, but Morse warns if a partner refuses to even try something you adore, it’s best to bail quickly. She tells the salutary tale of a boyfriend when she was in her thirties who — after a few sessions — stopped giving her oral sex. Following her own advice, she asked why, to be told: “It’s just not my thing.”
Her younger self would have stuck with the relationship “for at least another year, convincing herself it was good enough”. Experienced Morse knew not to waste time. “He wasn’t down with going down, so that was that,” she shrugs.
There are no such problems with Morse’s current boyfriend, whom she met — the old-school way — via friends. She admits partners entertain expectations of her. “There’s more pressure. But if I’m a chef and we’re dating, I’m not going to make you a soufflé or a five-course dinner every single night. Sometimes we’re going to go out to eat and sometimes we’re going to microwave. I’m a typical person: sometimes we have different kinds of sex, sometimes we use toys, sometimes we don’t.”
And even the experts still have to work at it. “All the bells-and-whistles stuff is great to know, but at the end of the day it’s about being present during sex, realising that it’s important and we’ve got to find time to do it just like everything else. Sex is a skill set and it’s always growing and evolving for all of us.”
Great sex? You need to talk about it (but not in the bedroom)
It’s a complete myth that great sex happens automatically and that talking about it will rob it of its magic. Most of the sexual problems in our relationships have nothing to do with sex and everything to do with communication. True intimacy requires vulnerability, and good sex requires intimacy. When we hold ourselves back from telling our partners what we want and need to feel maximum pleasure, we’re keeping ourselves and them from experiencing the full depths of our connection.
A lot of people think that communicating with their partners about sex means shouting, “Do this! Not like that!” Worse yet, we assume that if our partner has to give us any feedback at all it must mean that we’re terrible in bed. That’s not the kind of communication that I’m talking about. Give yourself the best possible chance of having a healthy and productive sex dialogue by following my Three Ts for successful sexual communication.
Timing
Have this conversation when you’re both in a parasympathetic state — relaxed, energised and at ease. The conversation will go nowhere fast if either of you is in a state of stress. If either of you is hungry, angry, lonely or tired, you’re much more likely to react poorly. It’s not worth pushing forward with a planned conversation if the timing is off.
Tone
In any conversation, but especially one about sex, make sure to lead with curiosity and compassion rather than blame or criticism, which are both conversation stoppers. It’s important here to be curious. Ask questions, and if your partner says “I don’t know” in response, that’s OK. It probably means that they actually don’t know and aren’t intentionally withholding information. Remember, you are exploring together, not badgering the witness. In addition to asking questions, use lots of “I feel” statements and the words “we” and “us” so that it’s clear to your partner that you’re in this together. Try to avoid words like “never” and “always”. It’s also essential that you listen as much as you talk. Practise active listening, which involves responding in an intentional way that shows the other person they’ve been heard.
Turf
I cannot stress this enough — do not have this conversation in the bedroom. You might assume that the bedroom is the perfect place to talk about sex, but do yourself a favour and save the bedroom as a sacred space for sleeping and sex itself. This will help you get more of both! Instead, talk about sex somewhere neutral that isn’t charged with sexual expectation. It should be somewhere that is relaxing for you and your partner: on the living room sofa, outside on the patio or while taking a walk, at the kitchen table over your weekend coffee, or in the car during a trip. Cars and walks work well for many people because you’re not forced to make eye contact while you talk. This makes it easier to engage in a vulnerable conversation.
This is an edited extract from Smart Sex: How to Boost Your Sex IQ and Own Your Pleasure by Dr Emily Morse.
Written by: Julia Llewellyn Smith
© The Times of London
