Welcome to How I Do It, the series in which we give you a seven-day sneak peek into the sex life of a stranger.
This week we hear from Cassandra*, a 43-year-old mum-of-two, who has been with her husband, 49, for 20 years.
They love each other but their sex drives are very different – especially since Cassandra’s husband began getting testosterone injections.
While they have sex once a week on average, Cassandra says: ‘My husband is very attentive and tries his best to pleasure me. I’d like my sex life to continue to be, selfishly, the way it is – I get to do it whenever I want.
‘I just wish I had the desire to do it more, for my husband’s sake.’
Cassandra’s husband is on regular testosterone injections which boost his libido as a side effect. He was put on the jabs five years ago, after being treated for a rare condition called acromegaly, where the body produces too much growth hormone causing body tissues and bones to grow more quickly.
In contrast, after giving birth to her second child, Cassandra’s enjoyment of sex changed due to post-natal depression, loss of a loved one and caring responsibilities.
Cassandra says: ‘He will often ask me if I’m “ready” for him when he knows he’s due a jab. We laugh about it but, in all honesty, his apparent sexual peak couldn’t have come at a worse time, as I juggle the responsibilities of sandwich generation life.’
Without further ado, here’s how Cassandra got on this week…
The following sex diary is, as you might imagine, not safe for work.
Sunday
The last thing I want to do after a weekend consisting entirely of washing, cleaning, running errands for family members and taking children to social events is be intimate.
The resentment at being the go-to person for everything id bubbling and I just want to be left alone to mentally prepare myself for another busy week.
But when my husband asks if I fancy watching the series we’d started weeks earlier I start worrying if he’s using that as code word for sex.
I agree to watching a couple of episodes. After all, I want to watch the programme and I want to be close to him – just not that close, because I want to switch my brain off.
Exhaustion cuts the night dead and, ten minutes in, I fall asleep on the sofa anyway.
Monday
After a long day, the kids go to bed, so we settle down to attempt to watch this series again and my husband starts to massage my leg. It’s a PG, over the pyjamas little rub and I appreciate the tenderness.
He casually mentions sex and I quip that I can’t handle a full porno – meaning I could just about manage a quickie, not the epic session he usually wants.
We often make this joke as he will always try for lengthy foreplay and loads of different positions while I try to go along with it. Instead of being in the moment though, I’m often consumed with worries about when my MOT is due or whether or not my son has enough credit on his school dinner payment card, and I can’t handle a 30 minute shag.
I think his desire to always make sex last is what puts me off – pretty sad to admit I know.
Nothing happens and he says he’ll sleep in the spare room because he knows our little boy will probably get in our bed and he can’t sleep with the added body in the bed.
I don’t even consider how he feels about rarely sleeping in his own bed next to his wife because I relish the chance to sleep alone when I can.
Tuesday
I’m first up with the kids and have to pester my husband to get out of bed and assist with the morning routine.
It’s not even 8am and already I can feel the anger rising at being the one in charge as usual. I really do feel like mother to so many people, which is rubbish for the libido.
I have so many hats; mum, maid and general dogsbody, but none of these make me feel sexy. I find it virtually impossible to switch my thoughts from whether I got the washing out of the machine to how exciting it would be to have sex on the stairs like we used to years ago.
Back when I first met my husband, I wanted sex as much as him, if not more.
I was adventurous and would happily do it several times a day. These days I only keep count of the amount of times we’ve had sex in a month to defend myself if he decides to complain that we don’t do it enough.
‘Once a week is way more than a lot of my friends,’ is a line I must repeat at least weekly. I guess you can add robot to my list of hats along with cleaner and cook…
Wednesday
Much like yesterday (and most weekdays) I get up with the kids and my husband begrudgingly rolls out of bed after squeezing in a few more minutes sleep.
The morning goes the same way as usual; a frantic hamster wheel of getting dressed, eating breakfast and asking where water bottles are and whether we have PE kits or aprons in bags before rushing out of the door to school.
However, this morning my husband isn’t leaving for work early and I have the day off, which means I jump in the shower when I return from the school run and he comes in the bathroom and sits on the toilet to chat with me.
When we first met I’d never have showered with him in the same room. I’ve never liked my body but weirdly, even though I’m overweight now and my belly and boobs are covered in stretch marks from pregnancy, I don’t mind him sitting there ogling while I wash these days.
I have friends whose husbands have made negative remarks about their bodies and it’s understandably really hurt them. I’ve often considered how I’d never be able to be naked around my other half if he made rude comments about my body, but he constantly talks about me as though I’m a goddess.
His steady stream of compliments reassure me no end and, even though I can’t and doubt I ever will be able to view myself the way he does, I’m glad he still finds me attractive.
He asks if we could have sex since we don’t have to dash off, but I moan about all the chores I have to do and he slopes off. I doubt he thought for a minute that I’d say yes.
Thursday
The topic of sex is high on the agenda before bed.
As usual it’s dropped in as faux harmless banter and develops into a deep dive into why I don’t want to do it – something I feel I explain regularly.
My husband mentions how he doesn’t feel wanted and how he can never seem to do ‘anything right’. An argument kicks off which results in me listing my responsibilities and asking him how I’m supposed to feel in the mood when I feel so taken for granted.
I go upstairs and watch TV on my own in bed before falling asleep early. He sleeps in the spare room again.
Friday
My husband doesn’t get up with us this morning and I don’t bother to pester him.
He texts later in the day to say he will be going to his friend’s after work as I’d suggested he did mid-argument yesterday.
I don’t have the energy to get into a conversation about it.
Saturday
I always feel more relaxed on a Saturday and after reflecting on the row with my husband I start to miss him.
I have a busy day as usual and when he texts to say he’ll cook dinner I know he’s not in a mood, so I’m happy.
When I get home with the boys he tells me to chill out and gets them ready for bed, unaided and without asking me multiple questions about the most obvious of things.
I go in the kitchen to see what he’s bought for dinner. Expecting pasta or chicken and veg, and I’m over the moon to find he’s gone one step above.
He’s bought a mixture of my favourite foods. Items that don’t necessarily go together in a meal but that he knows I love and rarely buy for myself. Such an easy thing to do but I find it really touching.
He comes back downstairs and I sit in the kitchen while he finishes his meal prep. At one point he mentions buying asparagus because he remembered how I liked it when we went out once and I just go over and kiss him. It’s a really passionate kiss – something we rarely have.
We seem to snog like teenagers for ages and then I pull him against the kitchen wall and we have sex. It’s rarely me to take charge sexually these days.
It’s great and very spur of the moment, but I can’t deny thinking it was good we were doing it in the kitchen, rather than our open plan lounge, as it would be less likely the kids would walk in. I really wish I could be completely in the moment, as I know he is.
When it’s over he asks where that had come from and seems really surprised.
I joke that him realising I need to chill, sorting the kids and buying my favourite foods goes a long way. He brings up me being over the moon about the little living room picnic, leaving me thinking he’s taken me saying that’s what lead to sex really literally, and he will now be bringing asparagus home from work every evening…
When we go up to bed we have sex again and it’s brilliant. I’m really relaxed and I manage to climax while on my back and not on top – something I never do.
My husband always wants me to enjoy sex – he tries to give me oral every time we do it – so I know him seeing how much I enjoyed it this evening will have made him happy. It’s certainly made me happy.
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