I dreaded sex with my husband, then I pursued a long-time crush

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 Sophie*, a 49-year-old nutritionist, who describes her relationship status as ‘single, but taken’.

For the 20 years she spent with her ex-husband, sex wasn’t enjoyable for Sophie, but now her sex life is ‘exquisite and flourishing’ with her new man.

‘I was very sexual, although actual sex was never a huge part of my agenda, but I think other people thought it was,’ Sophie says.

‘I had a tendency to joke about sex a lot. I was known for spouting forth loads of crass innuendos at any opportunity.’

She and her husband met when she was 24, and over the course of their marriage Sophie found herself becoming less and less attracted to him, mentally and physically.

‘There was just no appeal when it came do doing the deed – we weren’t connecting anymore on any level,’ Sophie explains.

‘Sex only occurred if under the influence of drink or a sense of obligation. I dreaded the thought of him going down on me – I would do anything to avoid it.’

The couple did end up having a child together, who is now 16. But, aged 44, Sophie split up with her husband, and turned her attention to another man.

‘My now partner had been a really supportive friend for a few years before my marriage ended, and it just felt right,’ she says. ‘I had always had an attraction to him, and there was so much love, trust and respect there between us.’

When they began a romantic relationship during her divorce, Sophie says it was like a ‘Pandora’s Box’ of sexual satisfaction had been opened for her.

‘For the first time in my life sex was mind-blowing and intoxicating,’ she admits. ‘The intensity, the gentle loving, the frenzied love-making – it all shook me to my core.’

‘We began to experiment with all sorts of consensual taboos and it hasn’t stopped. It might have come late in my life, but I am making the most of every intimate moment. It was worth waiting for.’

Without further ado, here’s how Sophie got on this week…

The following sex diary is, as you might imagine, not safe for work.

Monday

We had a beautiful night last night, but Ryle* has to leave after our morning embrace. He’d spent a long time appreciating my body, touching me in such a loving way.

When we got together, we’d both never done anal before. After a few ‘blips’, we’ve mastered the art of slipping it in when it feels right. It adds to the enjoyment of our intimate moments, and the fact we experimented together feels like it belongs just to us.

After he’s gone, I get up and I can still smell him on me. I like that smell – it’s a reminder of him and makes me smile. I write a little poem about how he makes me feel. I feel alive.

Tuesday

We won’t see each other today, but thoughts of Ryle run through my head all day.

I have a few drinks tonight, which is unusual on a week night. Lying in bed, I pop open the iPad and fire up Pornhub. I had never watched porn before this relationship, but I had been curious, and the fire ignited in me by Ryle has left me eager to see what else was possible.

My searches include choking, anal and threesomes. I’ve had dalliances with women before, and enjoyed lesbian shenanigans, so I take my pink vibrator and get off on some hardcore videos.

It always takes me a while to come this way, as I’m missing the touch and feel of Ryle’s body, but once I’m done, I can sleep. Happy Tuesday.

Wednesday

We don’t have plans to see each other until Friday, when we have a BDSM night scheduled, and I can’t stop thinking about what might be on the agenda.

We exchange a constant stream of filthy texts. It’s horny just writing about sex and sharing what filthy f**kery we fancy.

We’re absolutely on the same page when it comes to experimenting. Once we both looked up different positions for blow jobs, and I was in awe at the variations and names that were available and possible.

I text him that the Sword Swallower, a type of deep throating, sounds like a fun time. He’s in agreement, naturally, given that this is dominant for him and submissive for me.

I feel erotic and wet just thinking about what’s going to be going down (literally) on Friday. We chat about our love language – mine is touch, his is acts of kindness. I wonder if a blow job is an act of kindness… I truly enjoy giving them now, so that’s a bonus!

Thursday

I get a message from Ryle to say he’s unexpectedly free to pop round, so I get our sex playlist on to get in the mood. Music is part of our sex pleasure – whilst we’re not actively listening to the music while love making, I can hear the songs again at anytime and they remind me of our intimacy.

I’m keeping busy to occupy myself, but realise I’m in phase one of the Sexual Response Cycle. (I Googled this when a friend mentioned it because I was very curious to know more.)

The sexual response cycle has four phases: excitement, plateau, orgasm, and resolution. Apparently, both men and women experience these phases, although the timing is usually different.

I love them all, but the resolution is my favourite – it’s not just that we’ve had sex, it’s that we’ve connected on an emotional level and that’s what takes my breath away. Being together in that euphoric aftermath is every bit as satisfying to me as the sex.

When Ryle gets here I know it’s going to be a quickie – a delicious precursor to Friday. We get on the sex bench, and it’s quick and dirty and passionate. I love to see the pleasure on his face in the mirror. I mention this and he laughs and squirms, saying he doesn’t want to think about his ‘cum’ face.

I’m quite noisy during sex and we laugh that the neighbour retaliates by playing Bryan Adams loudly, on repeat. I like it when he puts his hand over my mouth when we f**k – it’s part of the kink we’re in to. I’m sure my neighbour would appreciate that we do try to keep the noise down this way.

Friday

I spend much of the day getting our BDSM paraphernalia ready. We have quite a collection: straps, dildos, handcuffs, collars, the list goes on. I also have a wardrobe dedicated to some kinky lingerie, which I am rather proud of.

I like taking my time choosing my outfit. Tonight’s is crotchless and PVC. It makes me feel good. I am now, at long last, comfortable with my body, but it’s taken a while.

The sun is shining, so I enjoy some pre-sex vitamin D. Sunshine makes me horny and I feel rather inclined to take myself upstairs for a quick shuffle but I save myself. I’m aching for him.

Tonight is a mix of slaps and moans and deep, erotic sex. Hugely satisfying in every way, as is the conversation afterwards. We are a perfect cocktail of lust and love, affection and appreciation.

He just has to look at me to make me want him and want to be near him. He’s more than a f**k buddy to me, he’s my paramour.

Saturday

Today I’m just clearing up the joy of our rigorous sex evening. Exhausted, having been thrown around, it’s hard going finding the energy to tidy.

It makes me laugh how I have to parent proof my house when my son visits – I ensure all benches, dildos etc are out of sight.

I spend much of the day having flashbacks, and experience genuine happiness. Sex has become a validation of my womanhood. It really does stimulate my mind and soul.

What I had with my ex-husband was so vanilla, and this is every flavour under the sun. I also realise how naïve I was about what good sex can really be.

Sunday

Today I get my period. I’m at the peri-menopause stage, so I have no idea when Mother Nature is going to come knocking. However, I’ve made a pact with myself that I won’t be defeated by hormones.

In fact, I feel in the prime of my life. I spent so long in a boring dry spell, I won’t let anything deprive me of what I know I deserve.

At long last, I can see what the fuss is all about. Sex is marvellous, and long may it continue.

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