Michaela, 50
I’d be lying if I said it didn’t cross my mind that I’ve only ever slept with one person
William and I met at school. He had broad shoulders (for a 16-year-old) and jet-black swoopy locks. It was the Duran Duran era of hair. He can be very shy but in the end I persuaded him to write down my phone number. It was the 1980s – the poor boy had to call and ask my mum to speak to me, before asking me out.
We were both virgins. My nan used to give me Mills & Boon romantic novels with hunky sailors on the cover who swept women into their arms. My idea of sex was based on those covers. The first time, William brought out a condom. I have no idea where he got it. I know we worked out which part went where, but I can’t recollect the details. William jokes it was short-lived.
Seven years later, we moved in together and had our first child. By the time we were 29, we’d had three. You become mum, cook, bill-payer, taxi driver. Then, somewhere along that list – right at the bottom – you are yourself: a female sexual being. For quite a long time, sex would happen once in a blue moon. I’d say once every three months, sometimes less. I didn’t want to address it. I was scared he didn’t find me attractive any more.
Now we’re 50, and two out of our three kids have fled the nest. We have more freedom to discover one another again. I’d say we have sex once or twice a week at the very most: it’s more relaxed, investigative, curious. We have invested in sex toys – most recently the rather crudely named “clit hoover” – as well as blindfolds and gentle paddles for soft spanking. Lately, I’ve been penning a bit of erotic fiction: I’m back to Mills & Boon. I don’t think William really gets the girly romantic style of it, but he’s supportive.
My feelings for William haven’t changed, even though we have obviously changed a lot physically since we were teenagers. I fancy his grey hair, little belly and gouty foot. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t cross my mind that I’ve only ever slept with one person, as I’m sure it does for him. But I don’t have the desire to be with anyone else. In Sainsbury’s, you look at all the sandwiches, but you’re always going to pick the chicken and sweetcorn. It’s the one you love.
William, 50
Once we had three kids, sex became more complicated. Nowhere was private
Michaela and I started going out when we were teenagers, and I remember the legality of us having sex being a big thing for me. I’ve always been a bit of a stickler for the rules. At school, everyone was talking about sex. I bought a condom from the chemist, imagining we might get there one day. While we were actually in the middle of doing it I thought: “We’re 16, we can do this, it’s legal!” The whole experience was over very quickly.
I don’t think having one child changed our sex life very much. Of course, the first few months after pregnancy are different. But once we had three kids, it became more complicated, especially when they started being able to walk. Nowhere was private. That posed a few awkward situations. For about four years we were probably only having sex every three months.
Nowadays, we do it once or twice a week, not massive amounts. It’s hard to align our schedules. We like to try new things together. I recently bought a pair of special silicone gloves that have raised ridges on them, which make hand-jobs even more pleasurable. Michaela’s latest scheme, along with cooking with food waste, is erotic fiction. I ought to see what I can glean from it. I’m looking forward to her reading me the final version aloud.
The fact I’ve only slept with one person has come up in conversation with friends, but it’s not an issue for me. The thought seems to occur more frequently to my friends than it does to me. Generally, my mates who are a bit all over the place in that regard still haven’t settled down – even though we’re all 50 now.
I’m perfectly happy with Michaela and the kids. I like stability. I support a football team, and I’m not going to change allegiance just because another team is doing well.
Would you and your partner like to share the story, anonymously, of your sex life? Email sexlives@theguardian.com with a brief outline of what you get up to in the bedroom
