Can Demisexuals Have Casual Sex? (& If So, How?!)

Ever since I came out as demisexual 2 years ago, people have had a lot of questions for me about that identity. Some of these include:

Q. What is demisexuality?
A. It’s an identity on the asexual spectrum, characterized by developing sexual attraction only to people with whom one has an existing emotional connection. In other words, demisexuals don’t (and indeed, can’t) become sexually attracted to strangers, or people they have just met and know nothing about; it takes some amount of intimacy, mutual trust, and/or get-to-know-ya time before a demi person can develop a sexual attraction.

Q. How is that different from just preferring sex in relationships over hookups/one-night stands?
A. What you’re describing is a preference; what I’m describing is a sexual orientation. If you don’t like hookups but nonetheless find yourself regularly feeling sexually attracted to people you don’t know or have just met – such as thinking the stranger across the bar is hot, or wishing you could fuck the cute person who just walked past you on the street – then you aren’t demisexual. Also, it’s worth noting that sexual orientation and sexual behavior do not always “match,” so just because a demisexual may not feel sexual attraction toward a person they’ve just met doesn’t automatically mean that they won’t hook up with that person, or won’t enjoy hooking up with that person.

Q. Wait, what? Why would you hook up with someone you’re not sexually attracted to?
A. Oh, gosh. So many reasons. For me personally, the main reasons I do this tend to be 1) the desire for the fun, excitement, and pleasure of the hookup itself, which can exist independently of whether or not I’m attracted to the person I’m hooking up with, and 2) the desire to use sex to get to know someone, so an attraction may develop. (It’s important to remember, too, in trying to understand this concept, that “not attracted to” is not usually the same thing as “repulsed by.”)

 

I thought today would be a good day to dive a little deeper on a question that is related to these, which is: Can demisexuals have casual sex? Or, more to the point, can they enjoy it?

I have indeed jumped onto a free sex app looking for a carnal meet-cute from time to time. I have swept my eyes over the stranger chatting me up at a sex club and thought, “Sure.” I am not immune to these temptations, though for me they are not based on sexual attraction. They’re more based on a desire for pleasure, excitement, and adventure.

In some ways, I think of sex like dancing. Some people say dancing is the most romantic, the most intimate and fun, when you do it with someone you’re in love with, or even just someone you’re attracted to. It may give you that buzzy feeling of crackling energy flowing between you, the desire to lean in close for an impulsive kiss, the sense that everyone else in the room has faded away and it’s just you and your dance partner, whirling and gyrating. But at the same time, I’m sure you can think of instances when you’ve danced with (or near) someone you weren’t in love with, weren’t even attracted to, and still had a good time. Perhaps you didn’t even know their name. Maybe the music was good, or the athleticism of the dancing got your heart rate up in an invigorating way, or you just enjoyed the fun of getting to know someone from the way they move. It may not have even mattered if you ever saw the person again; your one shared dance was a self-contained encounter that was pleasing in and of itself, and required neither a deep emotional connection nor a later reunion for more dancing. It is likely that your dance partner, or you, simply disappeared into the night sometime after the song was over, and you both moved on with your lives, not feeling pulled to reunite and reconnect, but still happy to have shared that experience with someone who seemed cool.

That’s how I feel about casual sex as a demisexual. It’s not necessarily the best version of sex I can have, or the most emotionally resonant, but that’s not really the point. It’s about fun and frivolity and feeling alive.

 

I suppose this raises the ethical question of whether your “dance partners” – by which I mean sex partners – need to know you’re not attracted to them. After all, to visit site after site and use app after app searching for a hookup can be an exhausting process; if mutual attraction is what they’re after, don’t they deserve to know upfront that it’s not an option, so they can swipe left and move on to the next?

I actually don’t think so, and here’s why. Most people don’t know what demisexuality is. Hell, most people don’t even know what asexuality is. They have not probed the concepts of sexual orientation versus sexual behavior. They have not pondered the ways a person can enjoy sex without attraction. So all they’re gonna hear, when you try to explain, is “I find you repulsive, but I’ll still have sex with you, if you want, I guess,” even if that’s not at all what you feel you’re expressing.

Should an opportunity arise in conversation, I’ll sometimes disclose something like, “I generally take a while to warm up to people,” or “I enjoy sex more when it’s with someone I’ve already had sex with a few times.” These statements have the added benefit of planting the seed in the other person’s head that you’d be open to an ongoing friends-with-benefits arrangement or similar, rather than just a one-off encounter. But they’re also a way of telling your date the truth about yourself, hopefully without making them feel like a gross gargoyle being thrown a bone (so to speak).

 

I will say, my demisexuality works more like a dimmer switch than an on/off toggle. If a deep emotional connection gets me hot, a shallower-but-still-present emotional connection gets me… warm. This – among other, more practical reasons, like my physical safety – is why I prefer to go on a date that may or may not end in a hookup, rather than just going over to a stranger’s house (or inviting them over to mine) for immediate sex. You typically can’t develop profound intimacy in the timespan of just one date, but you can develop some intimacy. I like to ask people not only basic first-date questions (job, family, hobbies) but also slightly more probing questions, that may reveal something deeper about who they are, such as:

  • What’s your passion?
  • Read any good books lately?
  • Does the climate crisis worry you?
  • Overall, are you happy with your life?
  • What’s the best thing that’s happened to you today?
  • What’s the last thing that made you laugh really, really hard?

Beyond helping make attraction possible for me (even if it’s just a mild attraction), these types of questions are also just… fun to hear people answer, even people you’ve just met. One of my favorite things about dating and hooking up is getting to know new people. Even though I’m a huge introvert and can only handle it in small doses, I find it delightful and eye-opening to chat with people from different walks of life about their experiences, opinions, hopes, and fears. Getting to learn more about humanity and get laid in the same evening? What’s not to like?!

 

Lastly, I feel it’s important to add that you can always say no to sex, for any reason you want. You can say no to the idea of casual sex altogether, and just stay home reading a book. You can say no to the random person who asks you out via Tinder, if their vibe rubs you the wrong way or you just don’t feel like going out. You can say no to staying for another drink, if by the end of the first one you’re bored to tears or just wishing you were home watching Netflix instead. You can say no when your date asks you back to their place, whether it’s a “no, but maybe next time” or a permanent kind of no. You can say no when you’re back at their place (or yours), after a nightcap or after some kisses or after some touching or whenever the hell you want. You can say no to seeing them again. You can say no at any time, for any reason or for no reason at all, and anyone who makes you feel like you can’t is someone you should get away from as soon as you possibly can. (Block their number, too. You deserve better.)

As a demisexual, I’ve found that the most likely juncture of a date when I might need to say no is when we’re paying for our drinks/dinner/whatever and have to decide whether to move to a second location. If I don’t want to have sex with them, right then or perhaps ever, but they’ve made an invitation for me to do so, I can say:

  • “Thank you, but no.”
  • “I’m not really feelin’ it.”
  • “It was nice meeting you, but I need to get some rest.”
  • “I don’t think we’re a great fit, but thanks for your time.”
  • “I’ve had a lovely time, but I think I’m just gonna head home.”
  • “I’m not really feeling sexual chemistry here, but I hope you have a good rest of your night.”

I used to feel guilty about doing this, as if I had “wasted their time” by declining sex when there was an unspoken agreement that sex would (or could) happen. But frankly, anyone who believes sex is an obligation, in any context and for any reason, is not a safe person to have sex with. This is also why I prefer to pay for my own drinks/food/transport on all first dates; I need all the help I can get convincing myself that I never owe anyone anything and am free to say no at any time. There is always a chance that someone will get angry and/or aggressive when rebuffed in this way, however gently; this is one of the many reasons it’s best to have all first dates in public, well-lit places where there are plenty of other people around.

 

Are you a demisexual person who enjoys casual sex? What are your tips and tricks for having demi-friendly hookups?

 

This post was sponsored. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.

21 Perfectly Valid Reasons to Have Sex Other Than Sexual Attraction

I came out as demisexual recently, and found myself looking back at many of my past sexual experiences through the lens of this new knowledge. It became clear pretty quickly that I haven’t been sexually attracted to all, or even most, of my past sexual partners. But here’s the thing: that’s not necessarily bad!

See, as many asexual and ace-spectrum folks already know, there are plenty of reasons besides sexual attraction that people can and do pursue sex. While many of these people (including me) have no doubt encountered creeps who try to get you to have sex you don’t want, it is possible to want sex even in the absence of sexual attraction. I don’t necessarily advocate or have sex for all of these reasons myself, but here are 21 possible reasons you might like to bang even if you’re not viscerally attracted to the person you’re banging…

1. Pleasure and/or orgasm. I mean, of course. Isn’t this why a lot of people have sex? It feels good. You don’t necessarily have to be super attracted to someone for them to be able to give you pleasure, especially if they’re sexually skilled and/or you’re good at communicating what works for you.

2. Fun. Maybe you’re bored. Maybe you want to let loose. Maybe you just like the “adult playtime” nature of sex. It’s one of the few spaces in adult life where we really get to play around and be goofy!

3. Intimacy. Whether you’re in a relationship, considering a friends-with-benefits arrangement, or just have a crush you want to get closer to, sometimes sex is a way to deepen your emotional connection with someone. Being intimate (in the literal way, not the euphemistic way) is one of life’s great joys.

4. Adventure, exploration, and curiosity. Maybe you’re trying to figure out if you’re ace, and want to give sex a shot just to check. Maybe you suspect you’re kinky but think you won’t know until you try some stuff. Maybe you just like the way sex allows you to explore more parts of your psyche – and of someone else’s.

5. Reproduction. Had to mention it. Perfectly valid. Obviously common.

6. A self-esteem boost. Granted, this practice can get unhealthy fast, particularly if you start over-relying on sex to prop up your self-image – but if you just need to feel better about yourself once in a while, sometimes sex can help with that.

7. Stress relief. Pleasure and orgasm can help relax you after a hard day or take your mind off a difficult experience. They can also help you release your inhibitions, if you’re feeling a little boxed-in lately.

8. Relief from arousal. Look, sometimes your body can feel like it “needs to” get off or you won’t be able to concentrate on anything else. Sex can often relieve that (as can masturbation, natch). Then, once you’re done, you can get back to work, or do whatever else your arousal was making difficult.

9. Pain relief. As this chronic-pain sufferer well knows, the naturally analgesic effects of sex and orgasm can be a godsend at times.

10. To fall asleep. I’ve heard from many aces that they use masturbation basically as a sleeping pill. You can use sex that way too, as long as your prospective partner is okay with you zonking out immediately afterward!

11. Exercise, endorphins, or warmth. Sex (especially the more aerobic varieties) boosts your heart rate, raises your body temp, and gets those sweet sweet endorphins flowing. Yummm.

12. To transgress or make a political statement. It can feel powerful – especially as a queer or kinky person, or someone who’s been socialized to think their sexuality should be kept quiet – to have sex almost as an act of rebellion. Hell yeah.

13. To enjoy kink. You don’t need sex (or sexual attraction) to be part of your kink play if you don’t want it to. There are many ace or ace-spectrum people who derive great joy and fulfilment from kink but don’t necessarily want sex to intermingle with that every time or ever.

14. To nurture and comfort someone. Say your (allosexual) partner’s had a rough day and you know sex reliably cheers them up and de-stresses them. It can be nice to have “sympathy sex” sometimes. (Only if you want to, of course.)

15. To practice or feel competent. When you do something well, sometimes that sense of mastery can be a boon for your mood. Maybe you’re really good at oral sex and want to show that off and feel like a sex genius for a while. Or maybe you just want to practice your sexual skills so you’ll have them under your belt (so to speak) later on when you fuck someone you’re more attracted to.

16. To soothe your heart after a breakup. They do say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else…

17. Money or gifts. Sex work is valid! Sugar babies are valid! Frivolous materialism is valid!

18. Power. There may be situations where sex can procure you a higher standing in a particular social group, or can even get you a better job. I’m not saying I necessarily advocate this, but… it does happen, and I wouldn’t blame you for making that choice.

19. Religion, spirituality, or transcendence. Lots of people access some kind of “God state” through sex, or include it in their spiritual rituals. It can be a way to escape the bounds of yourself and convene with something bigger than you.

20. Gender affirmation. Maybe particular kinds of sex, or sex with particular kinds of people, makes you feel better in your gender or in your body. Totally cool and probably common!

21. Empowerment or reclamation. For some people, it’s powerful to reclaim sex and pleasure after sexual trauma – in your own way and on your own terms. I support you wholeheartedly.

What are some non-attraction-related reasons you like to have sex?

So… I’m Demisexual!

“A demisexual person is someone who does not experience sexual attraction to another person unless or until they have formed an emotional connection with that person. It’s more commonly seen in, but by no means confined, to romantic relationships. The term demisexual comes from the orientation being ‘halfway between’ sexual and asexual.” -the AVENwiki page on demisexuality

Have you ever heard of demisexuality? Prior to this one, my only post about it was from many years ago, when my boyfriend at the time told me he thought he might be demi. I wrote about it with skepticism, because the premise of it seemed strange to me. You can only become sexually attracted to someone after you have an emotional connection with them? Okay, how is that different from how… many, if not most, people experience attraction?

But in the years since, my own sexuality has shifted and mellowed, and I’ve come to understand that I myself am demisexual. Plot twist!

When that (now ex-)boyfriend came out to me as demi, in struggling to understand his orientation, I asked him, “So when you’re walking down the street, you never see someone you find sexually attractive and would like to have sex with?” and he told me, “No.” I later heard him say to a friend that, while he could appreciate that women other than me were pretty, he didn’t see them as hot; he just “didn’t work that way.”

While my attractions are not as monogamously-focused as that, I’ve come to understand (I think) what he was feeling. I used to see people on the street I’d like to fuck, and now I don’t anymore. My desire to have sex with someone is rare and highly contextual. Usually it pops up after a few dates, or a lot of texting, or reading their tweets for months. I have to know their brain and their heart, or my genitals just aren’t interested.

I sometimes wonder – as so many folks on the asexuality spectrum do, when grappling with internalized acephobia – if this orientation is the result of difficult past experiences. While I wouldn’t describe any sexual encounters from my “slutty phase” as traumatic, I do think that all those lackluster hookups with people I barely knew probably had an effect on me. Too often, I basically dissociated during sex from the utter weirdness of banging someone you’re not (yet) attracted to, which meant that not only did I not enjoy the sex, but I wasn’t always able to make it a fun experience for my partners either. Maybe I came to associate “not knowing someone well” with “terrible sex,” or maybe demisexuality crept fluidly and reasonlessly into my sexual orientation as these things are wont to do, or maybe it was a combination of both. Either way, I’m now saddled with the reality of never wanting to fuck someone unless I’m intimately acquainted with, and excited by, their mind.

The only exception to this, in the years and months I’ve been turning over this identity in my mind, is my current partner. I knew after just a few minutes of conversation that I wanted to fuck them. But then again, those minutes of conversation were unusually intimate and cerebral for a first date, and we had already flirted a little in our Twitter DMs. We weren’t starting from zero – and if we had been, I don’t think the date would have ended as wonderfully and lasciviously as it did.

My partner – who is not demi, but understands it well – has pointed out to me what appear to be hints of burgeoning demisexuality in my work and my life. They’ve noticed that when I write about crushes, usually I’m writing about their competence or their words rather than their physicality. They’ve heard me waffle and groan about dates I didn’t want to go on, simply because I hadn’t given myself enough of a chance to become attracted yet. They’ve seen the way I melt moreso from things they do or say than from the way they look, smell, or feel (though those things are great too). It felt validating to have someone confirm to me that my attractions operate a bit differently from the norm, and that the demi label therefore fits.

The other biggest confirmation of this identity, for me, has been the random men on the internet who try to sext with me. Granted, most women don’t respond well to this type of thing in their DMs – but even in contexts where sexting is expected and perhaps even consensual, like Tinder, it leaves me cold if the person on the other side of the screen is a stranger. Even if they’re weaving beautiful sentences backed up by anatomical knowledge, sexual adventurousness, and feminist ideology, I am only ever, at best, mildly interested. But sexting with someone I’ve had hours-long conversations with? That’s a totally different story.

I think that this development directly contributed to me abruptly losing almost all interest in dating apps and hooking up, way back in early 2017. Scouring potential matches’ bios while all but ignoring their photos, and automatically recoiling if they got too sexual too fast, made me all too aware of how different my preferred approach is from what’s being offered on these apps. Even sites traditionally understood to be more personality-focused, like OkCupid, make me feel lost in a sea of “maybes.” How am I supposed to know if I find someone attractive enough to talk to them… if I haven’t already talked to them?!

If and when I ever get over my distaste for dating new people, I think the best approach for me will be to meet up with people IRL as soon as possible if they seem interesting. Maybe that seems counterintuitive, but I’d rather get an attraction simmering ASAP than lead someone on by messaging back and forth for weeks when I’m not even sure if I’m into them.

I’ve also found it helpful to state upfront in my dating bios that I’m looking to date, not hook up. And when it comes to actual dates, I now prefer to schedule them for mid-day – say, coffee or lunch – so that sex isn’t really presented as an option, at least until I know them well enough to know if I want to fuck them. Knowing about these “demisexual life hacks” helps me feel more confident in my ability to rejoin the dating world when I’m ready.

For now, though, I’m predictably really enjoying having consistent sex with two people I know quite well. It’s a demisexual’s (wet) dream.