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 Poppy*, a 29-year-old writer from Manchester, who has been in a committed relationship for more than four years with her partner, Harry*.
While they usually have sex about twice a week, Poppy says that after a long day, she’d prefer to unwind by binge-watching TV, rather than having sex with her boyfriend.
She describes their sex as ‘comfortable and passionate’, but the ‘exciting’ phase died out a year into their relationship.
Her decreased libido has become a point of contention in their relationship, and it’s an issue they ‘increasingly bicker’ about.
Poppy explains: ‘I’m content with our sex life, but I know he wants more. There wasn’t a reason why we started doing it less; it just wasn’t as much of a priority anymore.
‘Sex went from hot and steamy to comforting and understanding, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing.
‘I sometimes feel really bad for turning his advances down. I feel I should want to have sex more, but only because I know my partner does.’
Without further ado, here’s how Poppy got on this week…
The following sex diary is, as you might imagine, not safe for work.
Monday
Harry and I were late to discover BBC’s The Traitors, but we’re now halfway through the second series, which takes up most of our evening energy.
Trust me, we lead busy lives, but we find comfort in addictive reality TV. Nestled in Harry’s arms, I laugh about the contestants, predict who will be banished, and we bond over this little intimate moment.
It’s also been a long day, and my energy levels are low (as always). I don’t feel like sex, and even my partner’s gentle kisses or his slowly growing boner won’t change my mind.
As the only one working, my mornings are precious, and I don’t plan to lose sleep because I have things to do when I wake up.
Sex is often perceived as a key part of a healthy relationship, but I think it’s more nuanced than that.
Isn’t it enough that after a long day, all I want to do is share my process of decompression with my partner? I am exhausted, so I give him a look that signals tonight he’s not getting any, even though I know it bothers him.
I kiss him good night and fall asleep to the sound of Claudia Winkleman shouting at the contestants through a walkie-talkie.
Tuesday
Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t always like this. Harry still has a scar from when our sexy (and consensual) hot wax play went horribly wrong back in the honeymoon phase.
We both even know a selection of intricate shibari knots from when we experimented with dominance in the relationship — although I don’t know where those ropes are now.
We’re still in our twenties, so I sometimes wonder why I don’t feel the need to have sex with my partner that often?
I come home from a gym session to find Harry sprawled in bed, topless and dishevelled — but not in a sexy way. He’s been looking for jobs all day, and the lack of employment is getting to him.
Harry is incredibly talented at what he does, and I love hearing him talk passionately about his projects. That’s a turn-on. But when I see him like this, it feels like he’s lost his spark a little. He also never makes the bed, which has become a huge pet peeve of mine.
I’m on a late shift today, so I finish my writing past midnight. Both Harry and I know that sex isn’t happening tonight, as I’m quite disconnected from him when I’m working. I even tell him to go masturbate as I’m not going to be of assistance.
Wednesday
While it may be infrequent, when we do have sex, it’s great. Harry is a fantastic lover, well-endowed, energetic, and committed. He also has the innate ability to time it so we both climax together — something I’ve never experienced with past lovers.
We head out for a cheap dinner — Harry looks good tonight — and we get home by nine. We talk, climb into bed, and kiss each other gently. After a couple of sex-free days, I know he’s craving a physical connection and it doesn’t take much for Harry to be completely aroused.
Our clothes are off pretty quickly; he goes down on me for a couple of minutes before looking me in the eyes and slipping his penis in. He then quickly pulls out again because he almost gets too excited, and we giggle at his impressive edging game.
There’s no shame or embarrassment between us when it comes to having sex, as we know each other so well. I love that our sex is messy, fun and communicative.
We have sex a second time too, and it’s deep and passionate. I’m on top when we finish. I like the control of being able to position his penis inside me, and I’m sure he likes me putting in a bit of work.
I tell him I’m about to orgasm and we both climax at the same time. I collapse into a sweaty heap on top of him, feeling his erection subside within me.
‘I’m happy again’, he jokes – suggesting that the sexual frustration over the last few days was maybe too much. As I roll over onto my side of the bed, I wonder who will be banished from Traitors tonight — we have time for one episode before bed.
Thursday
Harry tries it on with me this morning, and it ends up spiralling into an argument.
I’m sipping coffee and reading the news, a sacred early-morning routine that sets me up for my day. Still half asleep, he rolls over and slips his hand between my thighs while trying to kiss my neck.
I politely decline, telling him I want to drink my coffee peacefully, but it leads to a heated discussion about our lack of sex. Harry wants more, which I understand — I just wish I had the energy to match.
There are so many reasons why I’d rather binge-watch TV than get intimate every night. From my Instagram feed being filled with images of genocide in Gaza to news stories saying we’re now in a ‘pre-war’ era, the state of the world quite frankly impacts my desire in the bedroom.
On top of that, juggling multiple freelance jobs, while supporting Harry with his own employment search, consumes even more of my energy. I can’t be the only one struggling with fatigue, can I?
Watching brain-numbing TV is the one hour of the day when I can switch off from reality, and I love doing it with Harry by my side. To watch TV with someone else would feel like a social event, but with him it’s just a way of recharging my batteries.
Today is also another late working shift for me, so aside from a few passionate kisses, there’s no intimacy this evening.
Friday
It’s the start of the weekend for us, which means socialising, a couple of beers, and doing something fun.
We pick a spot on the map, pack our bags, and head off for a day trip in the great outdoors. Hours of hiking and a long drive back home are enough for Harry to crash into bed without so much as a word.
I wonder if he understands what my work week feels like, for once. The mental exhaustion of being switched on, and the impact it has on anything you want to do afterwards.
I let him sleep, and because I love him, I refrain from watching our BBC series alone, as that would be the ultimate betrayal.
Saturday
I’m up first, as usual, and I’m horny – probably because I know it’s the weekend and there’s no routine I need to stick to.
I peel back the sheets and get even more aroused by the sight of his penis. I gently start to kiss his neck to wake him up, and he pulls me on top of him.
‘Have you hit your head or something?’ he jokes, surprised I’m making the move for once. It’s a quickie, but it feels fun and unexpected.
Afterwards we hop into the shower together, another rarity now that we used to love doing.
We spend the rest of the day with friends. I occasionally glance at Harry, thinking about our cheeky morning, and it makes me feel good — like it’s our steamy little secret.
To mix things up, we swap binge-watching TV for going out. I leave earlier than Harry because I’m knackered, and he stumbles home a lot more drunk a couple of hours later. There’s been too much booze to get sexy this evening.
Sunday
As the working week looms, the gears of routine grind into motion once again. It’s time to get the house in order, sort our laundry and stock the fridge for the week.
In my mind I’m already plotting which project is due next and how my work is going to play out. We decide to treat ourselves to a couple’s massage in the evening that helps us both relax even more than usual.
Then it comes to that moment in the night where we either do it, or we don’t.
‘Can we cuddle?’ he asks, as we tumble into bed. Of course, I love a cuddle and some kisses, but I also know his question is often a cryptic request for more than just a hug.
I sense his energy becoming more sexually charged, but I know I don’t have that same energy to give back to him tonight. I can at least help meet his needs though, as long as we meet mine later.
Lube is our best friend in these situations, so I give him a hand job to give him the release he craves.
As for my release? We finally get round to the final episode of Traitors season two and watch the betrayal of all betrayals — I love reality TV.
*Names have been changed
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