Hello Pleasure Activists,

 

I remember the way her body told the story before her words ever did, shoulders tight, breath shallow, eyes darting downward. Then she whispered, “I want to want it.”

 

She was talking about giving oral to her partner, a partner with a penis.

 

She whispered not because she didn’t care for him, but because every time she found herself there, lips parted, breath steadying, something inside her went quiet. She could feel herself slip into autopilot, performing pleasure rather than inhabiting it. The movement was there, but the life had gone out of it.

 

What she longed for wasn’t more technique; it was aliveness.

 

When she came to me, she asked for tips and ways to make it “better.”

 

Liberation, however, never begins with a trick; it begins with presence.

 

I invited her to touch her own lips, to feel their warmth and the softness that met her fingertips. I asked her to slow her breath until she could sense the subtle pulse beneath her skin. The jaw, I told her, carries generations of swallowed no’s. Before she could take anyone into her mouth, she had to reclaim it as her own.

 

The erotic doesn’t live in what you do; it lives in how deeply you feel while you do it.

 

And slowly, something began to change.

 

As she practiced presence, the old scripts began to fall away. She started to explore what it felt like to enjoy giving oral pleasure, not as a performance for someone else’s satisfaction, but as an act of discovery for herself.

 

She noticed the texture of his skin, the rhythm of his breath, the heat gathering between her tongue and his body. She began to explore the play between power and surrender, how her mouth could be both tender and commanding, and how she could follow the current of sensation rather than obligation.

 

There is so much cultural noise that tells us we are supposed to hate this act. It is called degrading, something done for them and not with them. We have inherited a thousand tired jokes about us tolerating rather than enjoying it.

 

But the truth is, many of us love it, deeply.

 

We find pleasure through the genuine power in the intimacy, the vulnerability, and the invitation us into our full erotic presence. We know what it feels like to be turned on by our lover’s surrender, to taste their desire, and to feel our own power rise in response.

 

This is the political revolution: to take something the world told us was degrading and transforming it into empowerment. We know that giving can also be receiving when we are present.

 

One day she looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, “I didn’t know I could taste my own desire through his pleasure.”

 

That was the transformation.

 

A few weeks later, in one of our Pleasure Liberation: Sexuality circles, I watched that same transformation ripple through the room.

We were talking about oral pleasure and the myths surrounding it when one woman threw her head back and laughed. “You know what? I actually love sucking cock.”

 

The room went still, not from discomfort, but from recognition. Everybody felt the power in her voice. Then another grinned and said, “Me too. I fucking love it.” Laughter rippled through the circle.

 

Someone added, “It makes me feel powerful,” and another said, “It turns me on to turn him on.”

 

Suddenly, the whole room was alive, eyes bright, cheeks flushed, breath quickened. The energy was thick with truth and arousal, the kind that hums through the body when shame finally burns away. We weren’t confessing; we were celebrating.

 

We began to share what we loved: the taste, the weight, the rhythm, the surrender, the control. We spoke of how hot it feels to give from a place of power, to know that our pleasure is not secondary but central. It was one of those moments when the collective frequency shifts, when you can feel history rewriting itself through turned-on bodies remembering their freedom.

 

That is what happens in these spaces: we begin to remember that pleasure can be communal. Healing doesn’t always look like tears; sometimes it looks like heat, laughter, and a room full of pleasure activists radiating joy.

 

This is what I mean when I talk about the difference between performance and embodiment.

 

Performance is external: doing what you think you should.

Embodiment is internal: feeling your way toward what is true for you.

 

When we move from performance to embodiment, every act of sex becomes an exchange of energy. Each lick, each breath, each exhale becomes a language of connection, a dialogue between nervous systems learning to trust one another.

 

And when pleasure activists come together, when we speak honestly about what turns us on, what scares us, and what we are curious about, something ancient begins to stir. We start to remember that our pleasure was never meant to be hidden or small.

 

In those circles, I often say: your pleasure is a teacher. It tells you when you are in truth, when you are in alignment, and when you are alive.

 

And, it is in that remembering that liberation begins.

 

When I think of this woman now, I think of her laugh and how it changed. It used to be small and tight, almost apologetic. After a few months, it became full and round, as if her breath had finally found its home again.

 

She told me she had started to look forward to those moments with her partner.

 

She found a rhythm they could share, one that was not about performance but about play.

 

And that, to me, is the measure of liberation: not just the absence of shame but the presence of empowered joy.

 

To savor is to slow down enough to taste pleasure.

To swallow is to receive fully, without apology or restraint.

And to spit is to honor your agency, to know that you alone decide what belongs to you.

 

Each choice becomes sacred, and every act becomes a reflection of your sovereignty.

 

When we reclaim our erotic experiences in this way, we begin to rewrite the collective story, the one that told us to fake it, to hide it, to give without receiving. This is the work of The Pleasure Practice: remembering that pleasure is not indulgence. It is power, clarity, and a return to your body as a site of truth.

 

If you have ever whispered, “I want to want it,” know that your wanting itself is scared.

 

Desire is not a flaw to fix; it is the pulse of your aliveness calling you home.

 

Follow it. Savor it. Let it teach you how to love every lick, not for their pleasure alone, but for your own embodied sensation.

 

This is the revolution we are living through, one where our pleasure is not an apology but powerfully embodied.

 

And if you are wondering, yes, there will be another letter. While this is for all of us learning to love the art of licking a cock, I can promise that I am very ready to write about learning to love licking a clitoris too. Stay tuned, lovers.

 

Your Pleasure Practice

 

Journal Prompt: Reflect on the ways you’ve been taught to perform pleasure. Where did those lessons come from, and what have they cost you? Write about what it might feel like to experience giving oral pleasure from a place of genuine curiosity instead of expectation. Let your words move slowly, like a tongue tracing new terrain.

 

Embodiment Practice: Before bed tonight, spend five minutes with your own mouth. Trace your lips with your fingers. Breathe against your palm. Hum into your skin and feel the vibration move through your jaw and down your throat. Then say out loud: “I am safe to feel pleasure.” Maybe the first one feels shallow or uncertain. Say it again. And, again. Keep saying it until you feel it in your body, until something inside you recognizes it as truth.

 

Relational Tool: The next time you give oral to a partner, let your attention rest on what feels good to you, the warmth, the rhythm, the contact. Follow your own pleasure as you give, allowing your enjoyment to guide the pace and flow. Afterwards, share a few words with your partner about what you discovered. Invite them to share too. This is where curiosity becomes connection and giving becomes mutual pleasure.

 

Every act of pleasure you reclaim is an act of resistance. Every breath you take in with full embodiment is a refusal to live small. Let this week be a reminder that your desire is a source of power, guidance, and truth.​

 

Sending all my love,
Dr. Nicole

 

Dr. Nicole Thompson

Sex and Relationship Psychotherapist

Psychedelic-Assisted Liberation

Clinical Psychology