One of my favorite contradictions about sex is that as an autistic, while I indulge in its sensations, it can rapidly become a sensory nightmare. The direct result is that every autistic person I’ve personally met or slept with has had some non-negotiable sensory accommodations around being sexual because sensory processing differencesexternal link, opens in a new tab are a keystone in our lives. Sensory accommodations are common in the autistic experience, and not just in sexual contexts—and, of course, allistic people can also benefit from them.
You can probably imagine how people who reach for earplugs to get through a grocery trip or need to wash their hands after touching what feels like “wrong” surfaces might have a hard time with sex, a carousel of the senses. If sensory stress reaches a point where we feel overloaded, maybe even so overwhelmed that we can’t even communicate about it, we might have sensory processing impairments or disabilities.
When we’re being sexual with someone, we’ve usually got bodily fluids, smells, skin contact, friction, temperature, and socialization all rolled into one. That’s just the starting point. Sex doesn’t just treat us to sensation, but sensory flux. Temperatures change fast when things get (literally) heated. Bodily fluids cool on contact with skin and change consistency. I once began sex craving more touch than my partner’s body could ever provide but pretty soon, their hair made me squirm in The Bad Way.
A life spent carefully shepherding our social interactions and environment means that some of us get very good at navigating conversations around feeling comfortable in stimulating environments, including when we’re being sexual. I am sometimes surprised when allistic people don’t feel so strongly about managing their sensory well-being. When my mind is less occupied with discomfort, there’s more room for life (and sex!).
For neurodivergent and autistic people to exist in society, like many other disabled and chronically ill people, we need to be able to adjust to our changing environment. We may manage it by mitigating the issue, problem solving on a way to make it stop, or removing ourselves from its vicinity, but there’s always something to adjust.
Because sex can bring unexpected sensory shocks or an accumulation of smaller annoyances, sensory accommodation can be important. Whether we hate the repeated tickle of hair on our backs or suddenly feel dizzy, we all deserve to be heard and take a break from sensations. These accommodations can be addressed before sex with a new partner as a start of a conversation about boundaries and personal needs. If there isn’t enough experience to know a lot about our boundaries, you can lay the groundwork by making it clear that anyone can speak up when they feel overwhelmed or uncomfortable. A good partner will respect sensory boundaries as much as anything else. You may even find that sensory accommodation enriches your sex life, especially when sex isn’t spontaneous and there’s time to prepare the space beforehand. Sensory accommodation doesn’t just mitigate the negative, it also enhances the positive!
Tips for navigating the psycho-sensory sexual frontier
Neurodivergent sensory processing differences can swing both ways. Hypersensitivity is experiencing stimulus very strongly, while hyposensitivity renders an experience dull. Some people lean hypersensitive or hyposensitive, and others experience both, depending on the nature and context of incoming stimuli.
When it comes to sex, I have some hard-earned autistic wisdom on how to address the five main senses and work outward to other domainsexternal link, opens in a new tab. I have a lifelong bodily fluid aversion due to trauma and that extends to taste, feel, and smell, for example. It holds me back from being the lover I want to be, but I’ve coped with it by talking to my partners and working slowly at a safe pace, and have lots of advice for you about communicating with your partners to care for yourself and each other. Put on some enjoyable reading music and follow me; and if you aren’t autistic or neurodivergent, some of these tips may help you with communication about sensory needs too!
Hearing
I’m aurally inclined and sound can make or break a sexual experience for me. A flock of birds overhead will throw my rhythm off, and don’t get me started on power tools in the neighborhood. But I live for the sound of my hands gliding over skin, breathlessness, and moans. I direct partners to nibble on my earlobes, but not make wet mouth noises directly into my ear.
When I experience audio discomfort, I always start by figuring out whether it’s something related to the human body or our surroundings. External factors can feel like an easy thing to adjust, but anything intrinsic to you or your partner could be harder to address.
So, start there. Is this a problem you can work on together, or something that needs more sensitive communication?
Closed doors, windows, and curtains muffle noise going both ways. Mute your notifications and add audio — music, nature audioexternal link, opens in a new tab, TV — to isolate yourselves from the wider world. White noise sources like fans, air conditioners, or a dedicated white noise machine are great if you live with external noise. It vanishes into the background and takes the edge off. Some people wear ear filters that reduce the impact of harsher sound frequencies — they’re a type of open earplug that quiets noise while still letting you hear your partner. Oh, and if a creaking bed drives you up the wall, don’t be afraid to throw a blanket on the floor and take it to the ground. The firmer floor can be more supportive in some positions and you won’t have the rhythmic ee-ee-eee of that bedframe.
As for our bodies…sex is noisy. We’re ambulatory meat platforms that delight in pleasure. The sounds of shared pleasure are wonderful, but anatomical noise is also one of the fastest ways to ick people out. My first advice is always that if your partner makes an avoidable bodily sound that damages your sexual enjoyment, you’re allowed to discuss it politely with them. If it’s completely unavoidable, you can still approach the topic by acknowledging they can’t control it, but it may become overwhelming. When that happens, it’s always okay to take a break or switch to something else. If someone brings the topic up with you, it always pays to listen. Good partners take reasonable measures to keep each other comfortable.
Sight
Sight is one of my most treasured senses. Light, in particular, is a trigger stimulus for everything from sneezingexternal link, opens in a new tab to migrainesexternal link, opens in a new tab. I’m light-sensitive, so I haven’t had a single instance of good sex in a fluorescent-lit or bright room. Before sex, always consider how lighting can affect enjoyment. Does classic low light help you get into the mood? Do you have adjustable lamps that can be faced in preferred directions? Crisp, white lighting can make people self-conscious because it casts harder shadows across skin surfaces. Diffused, warm lights have the opposite effect and are gentle on the eyes. Light can also move, which may be a plus or a minus. Flickering candlelight comes to mind, but I’ve gotten great feedback after leaving a visualizer loopexternal link, opens in a new tab playing on the TV in an otherwise dim room.
Let me also suggest blindfolds. Sometimes I am really turned on, but feel a headache coming on. The answer is a blindfold and following my partner’s skin by touch and scent. Blindfolds are usually associated with sensory deprivation BDSM, but they don’t have to be about submission. They can be about sensation, too. I’ve had great sex wearing a blindfold. I can trust a partner’s hands for guidance and avoid a headache brought on by light and motion. No blindfold? Tell your partner you want to close your eyes and let your other senses guide you. Once your brain settles to the darkness, every other sense will feel livelier.
Smell
This is my most delicate and problematic sense. Stepping into a car with the “wrong” smell is a guaranteed day-long headache. Smell is one of the main reasons I’m picky about food and won’t approach alcohol. That said, it’s also the one most likely to cause friction with sexual partners because it’s always personal and sometimes immutable. Since it’s such a common issue, before anything else, I just want to say that if you ever meet a partner who describes sensory processing issues or sensitivities, ask before wearing your favorite perfume to bed. Scents are deeply subjective and something you enjoy might be unpleasant or even cause a skin reaction in another person.
Although I keep a very low-key smell environment in my space, I understand that everyone is different. If someone tells you that something you’re wearing smells really good, lean into it a little to make things better for them! A perfume or body spray that’s overwhelming on skin lasts longer and is easier to control if sprayed gently onto fabrics. De-aromatizing sex is also an option. Switch to unscented soaps and deodorants before sex to cut down on the amount of sensory stimulus. A low-scent or unscented laundry detergent can really help.
Another good accommodation to keep on hand are smells that can wipe the slate clean for someone who is overwhelmed. Inhaling from a container of coffee groundsexternal link, opens in a new tab resets some people’s sense of smell. I keep a minty sinus inhaler intended for colds and flu to soften up headaches.
Taste
Taste is often not really noticeable during sex unless it becomes very relevant. When I have a partner’s permission, I love nibbling on their skin or tasting their lips. Everyone has a taste and it’s okay to indulge. You should trust your senses to tell you what’s good, what you’d like to explore, and what you’d like to say “no thanks!” to.
An aversion to taste can get in the way of the sex we want to have. No matter your reason, you’re allowed to draw personal boundaries based on sensory sensitivities. If oral sex or kissing with tongue is unbearable to you, you don’t have to do it, just like you don’t have to do anything sexual that you don’t want or that doesn’t feel good for you. If you want to soften the taste without giving up on certain sex acts, flavored lube is an option. Just remember to check that it’s fine with your partners and spot-test it. One of my old favorites is to give oral sex with a lot of saliva. After a while, it’s mostly my neutral taste in the area and I can enjoy myself freely.
I must stress that there’s a difference between subjective tastes and warning signs. Be aware that some tastes can point to underlying health conditions and if you notice a change in your partner, you may want to gently bring it up.
Touch
I’ve got “touch” listed as my main love language on Tinder. I am also very cat-like because I only want to be touched in very specific ways. An example: I have a damaged lung and my chest can’t handle pressure. I politely move people’s arms down when they try to hold me around the chest. I also have waist-length hair that’s wonderful to look at, but a nightmare when it gets caught amidst elbows and ears. We haven’t even reached touches provided by our hands yet.
Skin-to-skin contact is a feature of most sexual encounters. The good news is that it’s the sense we’re best prepared to set boundaries over. Giving or withdrawing consent for touching certain parts of our body is fundamental to sex in any setting, which helps. To be a more accommodating lover, just extend that habit to all forms of contact, even those that aren’t overtly sexual. If someone’s stubble starts to grate, it’s okay to adjust. If you’re habitually ticklish, ask for a firmer grip! Random objects and bedding starting to feel wrong on the skin? Sweep it aside before friction makes it worse. For sex to be a positive whole-body experience, you usually need to feel comfortable in your body’s current state.
I’m always willing to guide my partners to safer places to touch me. Away from my ribcage and chest and to my hips. I also keep comforting textures like plushies or a favorite satin pillowcase nearby to reset my senses if I feel an ick. My partners have never complained about a crowded bed if it makes me a more comfortable lover and I appreciate them for that. You can expect the same treatment and provide it for others too.
Beyond the five
The five basic senses are taught in grade school, but they also interact with each other. Taste and smell are tied together at the waist (or nose). Our hearing is supplemented by touch because we can feel vibrations. Seeing something make a noise helps our ears register what’s happening. Here’s some information about common interactions that might help you as you think about sensory accommodations.
Equilibrioception
The sense of balance and orientation. It’s crucial for positioning our bodies and losing it can be part of someone’s impairment or disability, or, if it comes on suddenly, a sign that something is wrong. People who are vulnerable to dizzy spells or disorientation can benefit from periods of stillness during sex to re-orient themselves. Always be cautious about positions that involve someone being upside-down or lowering their head too far. The head rush may be enjoyable, but it can send someone off balance and ruin the mood.
Nociception
Our sense of pain from any source. Playing with nociception is a big part of exploring sensation in sex in some people, but it’s also our body’s way of telling us that something is wrong. Since pain is so personal, it’s always beneficial to know when and how our bodies ache. That way, we can tell the difference between desired, expected, and navigable pain during sex, or something that calls for an immediate pause. Checking in regularly is so important!
Thermoception
The perception of temperature and temperature changes. Body temperatures can rapidly change during sex due to exertion, new sexual positions, or a simple gust of wind. If your sex is the kind to work up a sweat, always have a spare layer to throw on to keep warm. Sex can quickly become exercise and it never hurts to be comfortable afterward. Temperature stimulus can also be a wonderful supplement to sex itself. Some people love being licked and feeling the skin cool afterward. Others feel complete in the presence of a heated blanket or hot water bottle. Listen to your body’s needs and enjoyment will follow.
Some of these examples may have surprised you or given you a light bulb moment about yourself or a partner. So many sensations come together to bring us pleasure. Everyone deserves to understand their sensory needs and have their boundaries respected, and may have something to learn from people who have experience with navigating sensory experiences.
No matter how you feel, I want everyone to know that it’s fine to feel overwhelmed and there are ways to soften those edges for a better sex life. For autistic people, sensory accommodation can be necessary for our basic enjoyment of life. Allistic people may have a higher tolerance for sensation, but everyone has a limit, and autism isn’t the only thing that can create sensory issues for people. All people can be exhausted by an accumulation of smaller disruptions that create a generalized experience of feeling bad, overwhelmed, or prickly. Heading those off at the pass and communicating clearly about them can deepen your connection with a partner and open up new opportunities for exploring sensation together.
