Ugh, this is going to be awkward AF.
Ever since I wrote about the realities of life, beauty, body and mind after 40, a couple of you have written to say I’ve neglected one VERY IMPORTANT PART.
Sex after 40.
Turns out you’re a bunch of naughty women, you are. I like it!
I can only write this from my perspective, as ever. I am no specialist, doctor or shrink. I am going to write this, warts and all and y’all are going to have to take it or leave it.
I like sex. I like sex with my husband best of all.
He’s…attentive in all the right ways. And places. (*blush!)
I am no Marilyn Monroe or Bridget Bardot style sex kitten. I’m a little bit old school with a touch of verkramptheid. I own one sexy satin PJ’s. I usually sleep in cotton PJ’s or his T-shirts. In other words, I do not know how to do sexy or alluring.
So our sex life usually goes like this:
Him: Uhm, coming to bed?
Me: No, not yet. I’ve got this report to fin…what ARE you doing? ( giggle, try to catch the errant hand)
Him: You know mos.
Me: Ahh. Ok…make sure G is down for the night.
That’s it. Nothing fancy. Nothing extremely romantic. No candles. No rose petals. Maybe 20 minutes of canoodling and then, done! I might finagle a full body massage if I’m a little PMS-y, but ja…done.
Lately though I’ve been wondering: Is this it? What about the Kim K /Kanye style grand gestures. The jewels, the romantic breaks, the big “I Love You” balloons and friends- in -on- the- surprise surprises? Should I be asking for that? Should I be wanting that?
No. I don’t.
Frankly, I have no need for grand gestures. Gifts and expressions of undying love seem so…Hallmark-y, fake even. I eye-roll through every romantic movie except When Harry Met Sally.
I prefer the love that is every day, normal.
Coffee brought to the bedroom because you’ve got an early meeting in the morning. My fave salads made even though he dislikes greens. The cat fed when I’ve had a long day and didn’t get around to it. Getting him special berries at out of the way organic grocers because he likes them with his oatmeal in the morning.
You know? Practical love.
Physical, erm, interuptions have been an issue lately. I’ve been less “inclined” with the onset of possible peri-menopause. And he’s been dealing with hydraulics issues since the diabetes diagnosis. It is causing delays in lift off and a little more ahem, attention, is needed to get the engine roaring, but it still is fun and not a schlep. Not yet, anyway!
There it is. The cause of my divorce. This blogpost will be cited.
But since you asked for it, here it is. The ugly unvarnished truth of what could happen to you and yours once your body hits 4-0!
Date nights are a good idea to get juices flowing and for reminding yourself and him why you two got married in the first place. I even play him up a bit to see if the green- eyed devil is still in residence. It is.
Dinners for two are very intimate and inside jokes should be de rigeur. We have developed a language that transcends language, if you know what I mean. Hand signals, side- eyes, lip tightening and the like. A special code I’m sure most couples have.
We have a long way to go before we can write a sex book for over 40s, but we know what works for us and what doesn’t. I’m never going to be acrobatic in bed and “back door”s, sex swings, flavoured underwear and chocolate paint are left to those with the taste for the gimmicky or exotic.
I’d probably howl like a stuck pig if he ever wanted to try the shit that mr. Grey gets up to in fiddy shades. In laughter and pain! He wouldn’t know what to do with all the lacey strings and see through things we see at Nayomi stores. But like he said, ” I’m not interested in the wrapping. I want the gift inside!” Now if THAT isn’t romantic AF!
I don’t need porn but I have seen some browser history that’s been forgotten to be deleted. As long as I’m not doing the Chinese circus, Cirque Du Soleil style stuff I saw there, I’m not going to judge. I accept his needs as he accepts mine.
Until next I blog,