Nelly, 29, knows exactly what she wants in bed. “I’m a true brat,” she says. “Submissive at heart but with a bit of fire and bite back. I want fun and playful sex. I want us to be laughing during. I want a good amount of tease and edging, coming at the same time. I want that ‘can’t wait until we’re home’ sex: in the car, the lift, the pub toilet. But I also want a cuddle after.” Like most people, although she’d experienced feelings of desire and arousal before she started having sex — reading certain books; listening to particular songs — it wasn’t until she actually had sex, aged 18 with her first boyfriend, that she began to understand and explore her sexuality. “He couldn’t make me orgasm and I couldn’t figure out why,” she recalls. “I started playing around and learning how I like to pleasure myself, so I could bring that to our sex life.” Over the seven years they were together, Nelly did something that seems simple, but that we often overlook in our own sex lives: she followed what felt good and did so with curiosity. And this mantra has followed her into relationships since. “Although the sex was great [with my first boyfriend], I had no idea how much better it could be,” she says. “It’s the casual sex and situationships I’ve had since that have truly shown me what I really like. I’ve been able to play around, grow in confidence, and see how much more chemistry matters in the bedroom than ‘moves’.” But Nelly’s situation is, sadly, rare. For many women — and especially those who have sex with men — it’s one thing to discover what they like and enact it while they masturbate (itself an uphill battle for some, thanks to shame, stigma, and poor sex education), but it’s a whole other thing to actually get what they want during partnered sex. How many times have you, for example, left a hook-up dissatisfied? Maybe your partner came but you didn’t; maybe you asked what they liked but they didn’t ask you back; maybe it felt like they only cared about their pleasure (hello, no foreplay and five minutes of penetration). In Cosmo’s 2024 sex survey, 53% of you said you sometimes feign greater pleasure than you’re experiencing during sexual encounters, while 15% of you do so regularly. Meanwhile, 35% of you said you sometimes even fake orgasms. Of course, the ‘pleasure gap’ — or ‘orgasm gap’ — in heterosexual relationships is nothing new. A 1953 Kinsey Report into women’s sexual behaviour found that women had an average of 200 orgasms pre-marriage, with 36% never having had an orgasm before marriage and 10% never having had one at all. Men, meanwhile, had an average of 1,500 orgasms before marriage and all of them reported having experienced one. And things haven’t changed much in the 73 years since. According to a 2026 survey, just 24% of British women say they orgasm during sex, compared to 48% of British men. Things are better for women who have sex with women, though, with a 2017 survey finding that lesbians orgasm 86% of the time, compared to heterosexual women’s 65%. Obviously it’s not just about orgasms, but it’s clear that, despite women’s pleasure being more talked about than ever, it’s still not translating to heterosexual women’s actual sexual experiences. So, why is that? What is it that women really want? And how, like Nelly, can they get it? Sexual hurdles Like Nelly, 29-year-old Låpsley’s sexual awakening only really happened after she’d had sex. “The first time I had an orgasm was when I was 19 and receiving oral sex from someone I was seeing at the time,” she recalls. “I’d never masturbated or touched my own body sexually prior to that. I often reflect on why self-pleasure started so late for me. My parents never talked to me about sex or masturbation, and I think shame grew in that silence as a teenager. My friends never talked about it either; as teens in the late 00s/early 2010s, it felt quite taboo.” Once Låpsley had, as she puts it, “understood what [her] body was ‘capable’ of”, she began to experiment alone. “In all honesty, I wasn’t sure what an orgasm was until the wave of it hit me,” she continues. “But my masturbation journey and adventurous sex life started from there.” This is a tale as old as time for sex coach and educator Amari. “A lack of accurate sex education that focuses on reproduction rather than pleasure means women may not even know what is possible for their bodies,” she explains. On top of that, women are often socially conditioned to prioritise others’ comfort and pleasure over their own, which, Amari says, can make it harder for women to notice or trust their own wants. And, she adds: “Unrealistic portrayals in media and porn can create pressure to enjoy certain things or perform in specific ways, even if they don’t feel good.” This can take you out of sex completely. “When you’re stuck in your head worrying about how you look or if you’re doing it right, you disconnect from your body and your pleasure,” adds dating and relationship coach Kate Mansfield. “Furthermore, without a foundation of emotional safety and trust in a relationship, it is incredibly difficult for a woman to relax enough to tune into her own desires.” There’s a lot of hurdles, then, for women to figure out what they genuinely like in the first place, let alone trying to communicate that to their partners. In our sex survey, 33% of you said talking about sex more honestly would improve your sex life. And yet it’s really hard to do! This isn’t our fault; society’s refusal to talk about sex makes it hard for anyone to break that mould. There’s also an expectation that we should just know how to have sex; that it’s ingrained in us — and so to talk about it can feel like a failure. But, as Låpsley learned, the two — figuring out what you like and talking about it — go hand-in-hand. “I’ve learned what I like through communication,” she explains. “I’m not afraid of talking about what I want and need and asking what my partner wants and needs. I’m not a mind-reader, so how can I expect them to be? The more sexual partners I’ve had, the more I’ve understood the diversity of sexuality, and the better communicator I’ve become, the better sex I’ve had.” Låpsley also makes an effort to prioritise self-pleasure. “I set time aside every week to masturbate,” she says. “It could be a morning after my partner has left for work or a cancelled meeting, meaning I’m home early. That time serves both to satisfy my own sexual needs and as my personal ‘chill time’, where I try not to think about work or tasks etc. It’s not always easy; it doesn’t always achieve orgasm. Sometimes it just feels like a rest and a grounding practice to get back in touch with my body.” What women really want Although 22-year-old Diana* has only slept with one person, she’s learned a lot about what she likes and dislikes — and, crucially, how to vocalise that. “As someone who didn’t get an in-depth sex talk from my parents, my main source of information about sex has been the internet, my friends, and my former partner,” she explains. “I was informed and prepared before the deed, so I knew about sex as a concept, but the practical application [has been a learning curve].” Diana has learned that it takes more than one try — and lots of experimenting after these tries — to have good sex. She’s also learned that her desires change as her mood fluctuates and so, she says, “talking it out, asking what feels good in the moment, and if I want to try something new”, is always essential. In fact, she’s learned that she loves talking full stop: “Talking in bed is really underrated.” There’s more: “I want my partner to have just as much fun as I’m having. I want foreplay through sexting, so I know what I’m getting myself into. Emotional connection is, for me, the key to great sex; if you’re not present in the moment, you’re doing it wrong. If there’s a lack of curiosity, you don’t really want to be doing it — I appreciate when my partner is open to learning where they’re going wrong! Finally, I want really good aftercare: cuddling, caressing, or even just cracking harmless jokes; anything to lighten the mood.” Emotional connection is the key to great sex; you need to be present in the moment For Låpsley, what she wants in bed changes all the time. “I’m very independent and dominant within my artistic and business life,” she says. “To counteract that, sometimes I just want a lovey dovey massage and missionary; to be looked after and not have to make decisions. Other times, I’m in the mood to be the one in control and give pleasure to another person, fulfilling their wishes and getting immense pleasure from their pursuit of pleasure. Having both modes is what makes me feel most sexually satisfied.” And how does she ask for it? “Talking. All the words. Always chatting. If it’s prior to a date, then it’s a naughty text.” Diana also doesn’t think asking for what you want is a big deal when you know the person next to you is going to listen. “I’d first make sure of that,” she says. “I’m very clear and direct about my intentions. If your partner is bold enough to get in bed with you, then you can be bold enough to ask what you’re looking for. What has also helped in my case was mid-sex check-ins, to see if that is what I want. If you have a partner who actually listens and cares about your comfort as much as theirs, it’s easy to get what you want in bed.” Advertisement - Continue Reading Below For Nelly, it’s a similar story: “I will happily guide someone to do what I would like or simply tell them. In a nice way, like. ‘Can you do this for me?’, ‘Can you move your fingers like this?’ Equally there’s a solid portion of encounters where we’ve had a conversation of what we like beforehand or sexted already. I’ve always put my pleasure first and men love it! It means we’re both having a great time and getting a lot out of it.” How to get what you want in bed 1. Start outside the bedroom “Work on a deeper connection with yourself through mindfulness and self-exploration in a pressure-free environment,” suggests Mansfield. “I also recommend focusing on non-sexual touch and emotional intimacy with your partner. When you feel emotionally cherished and safe, your body naturally opens up, making it easier to discover what brings you pleasure.” 2. Explore your own body “Solo play is crucial,” says Mansfield. “It’s the safest space to learn your body’s rhythms without worrying about anyone else.” 3. Prioritise your pleasure “You have to reframe pleasure as a necessity, not an indulgence,” Mansfield asserts. “Prioritising your pleasure means slowing down and communicating to your partner that foreplay needs to start hours before you even get to the bedroom. Think love languages: it might be deep conversations, acts of service, or affectionate touch. Emotional connection and consistency over time is your prerequisite for great sex.” Plus, adds Amari, you need to recognise that your pleasure is just as important as your partner’s. “Setting boundaries, choosing partners who care about mutual enjoyment, and allowing enough time for arousal all help support this. Letting go of guilt around wanting pleasure is also an important step.” 4. And then communicate that to your partner “Keep it positive and conversational,” says Mansfield. “Instead of framing it as a critique, use, ‘I love it when you…’ or, ‘It would feel amazing if we…’ statements. Remember: asking for what you want requires vulnerability, which is why that baseline of emotional safety is so critical. If you feel secure with your partner, asking for what you need becomes a shared exploration rather than a daunting task.” If you’re feeling nervous, Amari says confidence can be built gradually by starting with small requests. And, she notes, “talking about sex before you’re having it can ease the in-the-moment pressure”, so maybe do it while you’re clothed and clear-headed, rather than, y’know, mid-thrust.
