I Read a Stack of Books About Gay Sex. Here’s What Actually Helped.

I’m Kayla, and I read a lot. I mark pages. I write messy notes in the margins. I pass books to friends like snacks. This time, I went deep on books about gay sex. Not porn. Not shock. Real info. Safer stuff. Clear talk. Honest stories.

You know what? A few books were kind. A few were dated. One made me roll my eyes. But some? They actually helped me and my friends feel calm and ready. Let me explain.

Note: I won’t get graphic. Think health, consent, care, and clear language. That’s my lane.

Why I Picked These Books

Two things pushed me:

  • A close friend, Marco, came out and wanted smart, safe info.
  • I wanted better language for consent and care, so I wouldn’t freeze during tough talks.

To make sure our pile wasn’t just random picks, I checked the latest recommendations on Gay Book Reviews, a site that sifts through queer books with a sharp, sex-positive lens.

So we built a small stack. We made tea. We read, we paused, we laughed, and sometimes we cried. If themed marathons are your thing, you might like my recap of a night in with books about gay vampires, which got equally dramatic. I kept sticky tabs for pages that felt useful. Yes, I am that person.

The New Joy of Gay Sex — Charles Silverstein and Felice Picano

This one’s a classic. If you want some historical context and publishing trivia, you can skim this quick overview of The Joy of Gay Sex for extra background.

  • What worked for me: The plain talk. The “this is how to talk to a partner” parts felt solid. I used one script from a chapter on consent. It was simple: ask, listen, repeat back. It sounds small, but it lowered stress.
  • What bugged me: A few bits felt dated. Some terms don’t match how younger folks speak now. No shame there—just worth knowing.
  • Who it’s for: People who want a wide map, not a lecture. Great as a first book.

Anal Pleasure & Health — Jack Morin, PhD

This book is calm. Barnes & Noble keeps a detailed preview of Anal Pleasure & Health right here if you’d like to flip through the chapters online.

  • What worked for me: The slow, step-by-step mindset. Breath, patience, and care. There’s a strong focus on comfort and safety. I flagged a section on checking in with your body. I used that for grounding, not just for sex.
  • What bugged me: A few terms feel clinical. That’s fine, but I wanted warmer language at times.
  • Who it’s for: Anyone who wants safer, kinder body info. Great for folks feeling nervous or new.

Queer Sex — Juno Roche

This one made me exhale. It’s not a “how-to.” It’s stories and talks about intimacy, bodies, gender, and what “good sex” can mean, beyond rules. It respects trans and non-binary readers. It respects doubt, too.

  • What worked for me: The honesty. The way it centers consent and self-trust. I used parts of this book to help a friend talk to a new partner—no drama, just care.
  • What bugged me: If you want a strict step-by-step guide, this isn’t it. It’s more heart than checklist.
  • Who it’s for: People who want to feel seen and safe, not boxed in.

The Gay Man’s Kama Sutra — Terry Sanderson

Okay, this one is glossy. It’s visual, a bit cheeky, and yes, it feels dated in spots. Still, it pushes one core idea: talk first, be kind, be safe.

  • What worked for me: It helped a friend start a talk about what he likes and doesn’t like. The pictures gave language to things he couldn’t name yet.
  • What bugged me: It leans on a certain body type. Some folks won’t see themselves here. I wish it were more inclusive.
  • Who it’s for: Visual learners who want ideas for communication, not medical notes.

And speaking of visuals, I've also explored the world of gay manga that treats intimacy with the same care—just drawn in ink.

The PrEP Diaries — Evan J. Peterson

This is a memoir about sex, health, and life on PrEP. It’s frank but not gross. It shows how care, medicine, and community can work together. It also shows the messy parts—dating, stigma, joy, fear.

  • What worked for me: It made risk talk feel normal. Like, you can have fun and be safe and still be human. I shared two chapters with Marco; they helped him feel less alone at the clinic.
  • What bugged me: If you want a strict guidebook, this is not that. It’s a life on the page.
  • Who it’s for: Folks curious about PrEP and how real people use it, with all the feelings in the mix.

Little Things I Actually Used

  • A consent script from The New Joy of Gay Sex: short, kind check-ins. I used it on a date. It worked. No weird vibe.
  • A breathing tip from Anal Pleasure & Health: slow breaths when you tense up. I now do this before tough talks, not just in bed.
  • A self-talk line from Queer Sex: “What do I want? What do I not want?” I wrote it on a sticky note. It lives on my mirror.
  • A clinic prep note from The PrEP Diaries: write your questions first. We did this for Marco. The visit felt simple, not scary.

Side note: if you’d rather sail the seven seas than flip through medical diagrams, my dive into gay pirate books might be your next port of call.

Quick Picks (So You Don’t Overthink It)

  • New to everything? Start with The New Joy of Gay Sex.
  • Feeling nervous about your body? Anal Pleasure & Health.
  • Want stories and care, not rules? Queer Sex.
  • Visual learner? The Gay Man’s Kama Sutra (but know it’s a bit dated).
  • Curious about PrEP and real life? The PrEP Diaries.

While books offer deep context, some friends asked for instant, app-based solutions for casual hookups on the go—think “rideshare meets dating” with a very direct purpose. If that curiosity resonates, you can skim the breakdown of the most popular car-date platforms in this guide to Uber-style hookup apps—it lists how each app works, highlights safety features, and explains how to keep encounters discreet yet consensual.

If you’d prefer to explore touch in a more structured, massage-first setting before jumping into hookup culture, browsing a specialized directory can be a low-pressure starting point. Rubmaps American Canyon gathers user reviews of local erotic massage parlors, notes hygiene standards, and flags consent practices, helping you decide whether a venue feels safe and aligned with your comfort level before you book.

What I Wish These Books Did Better

  • More inclusive images. Different bodies. Different ages. Different abilities.
  • Clearer, current language in every chapter. Slang changes. Health terms change.
  • More talk on pleasure and disability. More on trauma care. More on joy after hard stuff.

Still, these books helped. They gave us words. They made space for consent to be normal, not awkward. That matters.

Final Take

If you’re scared or shy, you’re not alone. Good books can help you feel steady. They can help you ask, “Are you okay?” and mean it. They can help you slow down, breathe, and choose what’s right for you.

I kept four of these on my shelf. They’re worn now—pages bent, notes all over. That’s a good sign. When a friend texts late and asks a hard question, I know where to look. I make tea. I pull the book. And somehow, it all feels a little easier. If you want the expanded version of this journey, the full write-up lives on Gay Book Reviews.