In my work as a psychosexual and trauma therapist, I often meet men who know how to masturbate and bring themselves to orgasm but are less sure how to stay connected to themselves while pleasure is unfolding. Masturbation may happen quickly, follow the same sequence each time, or depend on a particular image, fantasy or level of stimulation. None of this is inherently a problem. Difficulties arise when it begins to feel like the only route available.
Self-pleasure can take men beyond masturbation and provide a space for curiosity as well as release. Orgasms remain welcome, but they are no longer the test of whether the experience has been successful. This can be especially useful when erection, orgasm or ejaculation has become charged with expectation, or when sex has started to feel like something the body must get right.
Men are not one uniform group. Gay, bisexual, queer, trans and heterosexual men may have learned very different messages about their bodies and desires. Also, some men may feel at home in the word “masturbation” whilst others may prefer “self-pleasure”. What matters here is not the label, but whether the experience gives you more choice. The following five invitations are not rules or a programme. Try what feels relevant and leave the rest.
1. What changes when orgasm is not the only measure of success?
One of the simplest experiments is to begin without deciding how the experience must end. You may orgasm, ejaculate, do both or do neither. The purpose is not to ban orgasm, which would simply create a new performance demand, but to notice what becomes possible when you are not rushing towards it.
Before touching yourself, ask: “What do I want from this today?” The answer might be excitement, comfort, play, rest, release or simply ten minutes of undivided attention. That small question can change the quality of the experience. It moves you from habit towards choice.
In practice, clients often describe how quickly self-judgement appears when their bodies do not follow the expected script. A softer erection may be read as failure. Taking longer than usual may create panic. Losing arousal may lead to harder, faster stimulation in an attempt to force the body back on course. This is the same self-monitoring that often appears in sexual performance anxiety.
If this happens, pause before trying to fix it. Notice the story in your mind and the sensations in your body. Perhaps your chest has tightened or your breathing has become shallow. See whether you can respond with interest: “My arousal has changed, what does my body need now?” You might continue, slow down, change your touch or stop altogether. Each is a valid response. The practice is not about keeping arousal high; it is remaining in relationship with yourself when arousal changes.
2. How can you make more of your body available to pleasure?
Many men have developed a very efficient route from genital stimulation to orgasm. Efficiency can be useful, but it can also make the erotic body feel remarkably small. When I invite clients to imagine self-pleasure without touching their genitals straight away, some are intrigued and others genuinely do not know where to begin.
Start with contrast. Touch an arm slowly and then briskly. Use the palm of your hand, your fingertips and the back of your fingers. Notice warmth, pressure, hair, skin and the difference between a touch you can predict and one that surprises you. Move towards places you may overlook: your scalp, lips, chest, stomach, inner thighs, buttocks or feet. You are not searching for a secret button. You are learning how your body receives attention.
Posture matters too. If you usually lie on your back, try sitting, standing or lying on your side. Let your pelvis move. Stretch, curl, rock or press your body into the bed. A change of position can alter sensation and fantasy, but it can also show you where you habitually become still or controlled.
I sometimes describe this as expanding your sexual vocabulary. A person with only one reliable “word” may feel lost when that word is unavailable. A wider vocabulary gives you options. It can also be valuable for men experiencing erection difficulties, because pleasure does not have to disappear when an erection changes. A penis, whether erect, partly erect or flaccid, can be included without becoming the centre of an examination.
3. What do breath, sound and pauses reveal about your arousal?
Self-pleasure is often quiet and contained, particularly for men who first learned to masturbate in circumstances where privacy was uncertain. The body learns to be quick, silent and watchful. Those habits can remain long after the need for secrecy has gone.
Notice what happens if you give yourself permission to breathe audibly. You do not need to manufacture a dramatic moan. A sigh, a hum, a grunt or a longer exhalation may be enough. Sound can soften tension in the jaw and throat and make the experience feel less confined to the genitals. Some men find this liberating; others immediately feel self-conscious. Both responses tell you something useful about how much space you allow yourself to occupy sexually.
Pauses are equally revealing. When pleasure becomes intense, try stopping for a few seconds with your hand resting somewhere on your body. Notice the urge to resume. Does the pause feel pleasurable, frustrating, frightening or empty? Then begin again in a way you choose, rather than simply returning to maximum speed.
This can help you recognise the earlier signs of rising arousal:
- a change in breathing,
- a tightening in the thighs or buttocks,
- a sense of urgency, or
- the impulse to narrow all attention onto the penis.
Men who worry about rapid ejaculation often focus on control at the last possible moment. Learning your earlier signals creates more room to respond. The aim is not to make the session last as long as possible. It is to experience arousal as something you can listen to, rather than something that suddenly takes over.
4. How can self-pleasure help you meet shame with curiosity?
Self-pleasure can bring us close to the parts of sexuality that have been judged, hidden or never spoken about. A fantasy appears and the mind asks what it means. A man enjoys a part of his body that he was taught was dirty, feminine or “not straight”. A trans man may feel pleasure and gender dysphoria in the same encounter. Curiosity does not make these tensions vanish, but it creates an alternative to immediate rejection.
In my practice, I am less interested in telling someone what a sensation or fantasy means than in helping them notice the meaning they have already attached to it. Enjoying anal touch, for example, does not determine sexual orientation. A fantasy does not automatically describe an identity or an action you want in real life. Equally, no area of the body has to be explored simply because it might be pleasurable. Choice includes the freedom to say yes, no, not now or not for me.
For LGBTQIA+ men, self-pleasure may also be a place where internalised homophobia, biphobia or transphobia becomes visible. Sometimes the body moves towards pleasure while an inherited voice says it is unsafe, excessive or shameful. Meeting that conflict gently can be a form of reclaiming the body, though it should never become another demand to overcome discomfort. LGBTQIA+ affirming therapy can offer a space where these experiences do not need to be defended or translated. For trans and gender-diverse readers, Intima Therapy’s article on gender dysphoria, relationships and the role of therapy further explores how embodiment and intimacy can intersect.
5. How can you stay connected to yourself as pleasure builds?
The final invitation is to notice whether your attention remains in your body. Fantasy and pornography can be enjoyable parts of self-pleasure; the question is whether they expand your options or become the only route into arousal. When attention is fixed on finding the next image or maintaining a particular fantasy, it is easy to lose contact with subtler sensations.
Try moving your attention between three places: what you see or imagine, what you feel physically and what you feel emotionally. You may notice excitement alongside loneliness, tenderness alongside embarrassment, or pleasure alongside grief. There is no need to analyse every feeling. Simply recognising that it is present can make the experience more honest and less automatic.
If pornography is part of the session, experiment with pausing it while you continue touching yourself. Notice whether arousal disappears, changes or becomes more bodily. Then decide consciously whether to return to the screen. This is not a test of willpower and it is not an argument that pornography is bad. It is a way of discovering whether you still have choice. If masturbation or pornography repeatedly feels out of control, causes distress or continues despite unwanted consequences, information about compulsive sexual behaviour may help you think about the pattern without moral judgement.
Staying connected also means noticing when you have had enough. Some sessions will end in orgasm; others may settle into relaxation or simply stop. In my experience, the deeper confidence comes not from producing a particular response but from learning, “I can listen to myself, and I can choose what happens next.”
What might a different kind of sexual confidence look like?
Exploring pleasure beyond orgasm is not about mastering five new techniques. It is about changing the quality of attention you bring to yourself. Over time, you may become clearer about the touch you enjoy, the conditions that help you feel safe, the signs that pressure is taking over and the ways your body says yes, no or slow down.
That knowledge can support sexual communication with a partner, but it also matters in its own right. Your sexuality is not only something that exists when another person is present. If shame, concerns about erections or ejaculation, trauma or a loss of choice make this difficult to explore alone, psychosexual therapy can provide a confidential place to understand what is happening. The qualified therapists at Intima Therapy work online and in person with a wide range of sexual and relational concerns.
FAQs
What if trying something different makes self-pleasure feel awkward rather than pleasurable?
It may. Familiar habits often feel natural simply because they are familiar. You do not need to turn the whole experience into an exercise. Change one small thing, perhaps the pace, position or first place you touch, and notice your response. If awkwardness takes over, return to what feels familiar or stop. Curiosity includes respecting when an experiment is not right for you.
Do I need a lot of time or a special setting to explore self-pleasure differently?
No. A few undisturbed minutes can be enough to notice one sensation or try one change. Privacy and a sense that you will not be interrupted may matter more than creating a perfect atmosphere. The aim is not to build an elaborate ritual, but to give yourself enough space to make conscious choices.
What should I do if self-touch brings up difficult feelings or memories?
Slow down or stop. Look around the room, feel your feet against the floor and reconnect with the present before deciding whether you want to continue. You do not need to push through distress for the experience to be healing. If strong feelings, dissociation or traumatic memories arise repeatedly, a trauma-informed psychosexual therapist can help you explore them with greater support and safety.
