The Language of Touch
Reclaiming Queer Pleasure and Connection
By Corey Stork, LMSW
Sexual intimacy has never belonged solely to the straight, the cis, or the normative. Yet so many of us grew up with blueprints that didn’t include our bodies, our loves, or our ways of connecting. We were handed scripts that assumed gender binaries, linear desire, and clearly defined roles - scripts that often left queer people feeling unseen, unfulfilled, or even unsafe.
But queerness has always been about more than who we love. It’s about how we love. How we touch, communicate, and build safety in a world that too often denies us permission to do so on our own terms.
Relearning Intimacy When the World Misses the Mark
Many queer folks enter adulthood carrying the residue of silence - of being told our desires were “too much,” “too weird,” or “not real.” Some of us were never given language for our bodies or our pleasure; others were taught to dissociate from them.
In therapy, I often see how this silence becomes internalized. We may approach intimacy with anxiety or shame, unsure what we’re “supposed” to do or feel. But queer healing means rewriting those rules. It means remembering that there is no “supposed to” when it comes to pleasure, connection, or embodiment.
Relearning intimacy starts with curiosity, not performance. It starts with asking, What actually feels good to me? It starts with partners who are willing to ask, What feels good to you? - and who listen without assumption or agenda.
Communication as Foreplay
For queer folks, communication is not just a skill; it’s an act of liberation. Because our connections don’t follow a universal script, we have to talk about boundaries, consent, and desires openly.
That conversation - the one where we name what we want and what we don’t - is where intimacy begins. It builds trust, safety, and mutual understanding. It’s how we make space for pleasure that feels expansive, embodied, and real.
Good communication sounds like:
“Can we pause and check in?”
“I’m noticing I need to slow down.”
“That touch feels amazing - more of that, please.”
“I want to be close, but I’m not sure what that looks like tonight.”
Each statement is a bridge between vulnerability and connection.
Queering the Concept of Pleasure
Mainstream sexual scripts often reduce intimacy to mechanics or goals: who does what, who finishes first, who’s dominant, who’s passive. But queer intimacy can invite us to reimagine sex as play, exploration, and co-creation.
Pleasure doesn’t have to be genital or goal-oriented. It can be laughter, shared breath, slow touch, or even deep emotional attunement. Queerness allows us to re-center pleasure as presence, not performance - a living dialogue between bodies, emotions, and energy.
Pleasure is also political. In a world that has pathologized queer desire, choosing to feel good in your body is a form of resistance. It’s saying: My body is mine. My pleasure is valid. My love is sacred.
Safety, Healing, and the Slow Reclaiming of Touch
For queer trauma survivors, sexual intimacy can carry mixed sensations - hope and fear, longing and panic. Healing doesn’t mean forcing yourself into experiences you’re not ready for. It means building enough trust with yourself and others to feel safe exploring again.
Safety doesn’t have to look like constant comfort - it looks like consent that’s ongoing, boundaries that are respected, and partners who know how to repair when harm occurs.
Healing intimacy might start with a single breath, a moment of grounding, or a gentle reminder: You are allowed to take your time.
Building Intimacy in Queer Community
Queer intimacy doesn’t end in the bedroom. It’s woven through our friendships, our chosen families, and our collective care. It’s in the way we hold each other’s stories, celebrate each other’s bodies, and affirm that connection doesn’t have to follow any single pattern to be meaningful.
When we center communication, curiosity, and compassion, sexual intimacy becomes not just an act of pleasure, but an act of healing and resistance. It reminds us that our love - our way of loving - is already revolutionary.
Final Thoughts
Queer intimacy isn’t something to be “figured out.” It’s something to be felt into, moment by moment. It’s permission to exist, connect, and take up space in a world that tried to write us out of the story.
So take a deep breath. Ask for what you need. Honor what your body tells you. And remember - there’s no right way to be intimate, only your way.
Needing to figure out what intimacy looks like for you but not sure where to start? Contact me at corey@autumncounseling.com and I'd love to help!