I’m getting married and it’s killing my sex drive

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 Austin*, a 39-year-old freelancer from Cardiff, who’s in a long-distance relationship with his girlfriend Laura*.

Laura is from Tennessee, and is currently applying for a visa to move to the UK to be nearer to Austin. The pair have only been together since February 2024, but plan to get married within the next six months, to make it easier for her to secure a visa and move.

When they’re together, they have sex at least three times a week. Austin says: ‘When we do finally get to see each other, I get amazing sex with a woman who is always ready for me,’ he says. ‘However, I do find myself losing a bit of interest as I get older, particularly when anxious, irritable or depressed.

‘These are moods I have to juggle a lot recently, especially as visa talk dominates conversation.’

Austin says immigration and legal issues has put their relationship on ‘fast-forward’ and kills the mood somewhat. He’d like his sex life to be a little more care free.

‘I can get in my own head about things sometimes, such as ‘Are we doing it enough?’ or ‘Am I enjoying it enough?’,’ he explains.

‘I also find my regular low moods make me occasionally lose interest in sex and intimacy, which makes me feel guilty when my girlfriend is always up for it.’

So, without further ado, here’s how Austin got on this week…

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

Tuesday

It’s our final day in Italy. Laura and I hadn’t seen each other for a full month, but we met in Florence, Italy, for a week away.

After a month of celibacy, our reunion was abundant in sex – something we both needed. Sure, we’d had a few virtual sessions over WhatsApp, but masturbating towards a smartphone camera never feels the same.

Plus, I am constantly worried that I may accidentally add someone else to the call (‘Oh… hey uncle Steve, long time no speak…’).

With Florence in close to 40° heat, we spend late morning in our airconditioned hotel room before heading for a luxury spa afternoon. Before our lunchtime siesta, Laura asks, in her soothing southern accent, ‘Can I suck your d*ck?’.

She’s very forward, and I like that. Not one to reject such an inviting offer, I oblige. However, literally seconds before my orgasm, she stops and says, ‘You look bored’.

I assure her I’m not – I’m just a little fatigued from the heat, but otherwise enjoying it. Clearly sceptical, she jumps on top of me for a ride instead. I spend the next ten minutes trying to look anything but bored.

After an orgasm for me and three for her, I can reflect. The truth is that I feel a little disconnected at the moment. While marriage is a nice idea, and I do love Laura, it feels like things are moving too fast. We’ve only been seeing each other for seven months.

On top of that, most of our long-distance conversations were about visas, lawyers, finance, housing and passports. It’s all felt a bit clinical and a lot of the initial magic has gone for me.

I explain this to her and she understands, making a point not to discuss immigration stuff for a while.

Wednesday

It’s a bad day. Suitcases packed, we leave Florence at 7am and don’t arrive back in Cardiff until almost 6pm; yesterday’s relaxing spa afternoon is a distant memory.

It shouldn’t take nearly 11 hours to get from Italy to Wales but, thanks to flight delays and M4 roadworks, it does.

On top of that, we have to have a tense chat with a Border Force officer as we enter the UK. Laura is doing nothing wrong coming back to the UK for a few months, but with so many questions it all feels edgy and further added to my low mood.

We arrive at my house tired and miserable. Laura is staying with me for a few days until she moves into rental accommodation – even though she hasn’t actually sorted a place to stay yet.

This means that after a long day, I don’t get the space I need to decompress. Instead, she starts talking about visa issues again and I snap, telling her to ‘shut up’, which I instantly feel awful for.

We don’t really argue, so this outburst is our warning that we each need some urgent alone time. I chill in the spare room to eat dinner and she leaves the house for a walk.

This does us good. When she returns, we hug and chat. However, neither of us feel very awake or sexy, so we collapse into bed and are out cold for eight hours.

Thursday

I wake in a much brighter mood and we’re both playful throughout the morning. We hug and kiss after a quick bite to eat in bed, but I have tons of work to catch up on, so I’m at my desk by 7am.

Anticipating a busy day, I make my morning filter coffee way too strong, which sparks a hyperactive mood. Laura has the day off, so she’s mooching around the house while I work.

This means that I can take little breaks to spend time with her. At one stage I decide to see how long I can tap her leg for before she tells me to stop (26 seconds in the end).

She says: ‘Jeez, someone is energetic today… do you want to go upstairs and f**k it out of your system?’. I laugh but decline and carry on working.

In the evening, my mood shifts from playful to depressed. We have to have yet another chat about her housing situation and some complications surrounding that.

On the face of it, it’s not something that should matter, but it feels like all we are doing is talking about this kind of thing and it triggers me. We moodily watch TV and, while she does cuddle up and plaster me with kisses, I can’t muster any enthusiasm to take it further.

Friday

I wake early and did a much-needed workout after a week off. I still feel quite low, but I open up to Laura about my current feelings. She says she’s in the same place and produces an envelope.

In it, there’s a card listing all the reasons why we are doing this work – we have fun together, we understand each other, we are good communicators, and we love each other through good and bad.

She’s completely right, and after a little cuddling, I am suddenly in the mood for some indoor Olympics. She reads my face and says: ‘Fancy a quickie?’. I’d love to, but I have work to do, so I strategically hide my erection and we go our separate ways for the day.

With the air clear, things are more playful again through the day. This means random kisses, bum slaps and cuddles as we take work breaks. However, it isn’t until the evening that we finally made this count.

I go out for a quiet drink with a friend and when I return, Laura answers the door in her underwear. Not only is she clearly in the mood, but she has cleaned the house.

Nothing is sexier to me than a freshly hoovered floor and dusted surfaces. Let the romance commence.

She rips my clothes off and rides me on the sofa, before I carry her upstairs to continue in bed. The sex is very heated, and afterwards, as we relax and prepare for bed, I decide to stick my hand back down her underwear.

To my surprise, she’s still raring to go and I’m still surprisingly horny. This leads to another 20 minutes of sex on the floor – and more orgasms for her.

Saturday

After last night’s epic stress relief, we both sleep very well and wake up to do our own thing. When I return to the house after a trip to the shops, it’s empty.

I go for a nap but decide to treat myself to some solo masturbation. In the evening, we go for a date and some drinks before returning home. After my solo session, I’m not in the mood for any sex, but the evening is very nice.

Still, I feel things will be much better when Laura moves into her own place for a while. We’ve only been together for a few months, and over the last week or so, I’ve realised I’m still not quite ready to give up my own space.

Sunday

This morning, we go to view a student house that Laura is potentially going to move into. It’s not terrible, but compared to my clean, comfortable and calming house, it’s a little grim.

The look on her face as we leave the viewing was one of mild panic and sadness, so, I decide that Laura will stay with me. I tell her we can make it work.

As we return to the house, I take a seat on the sofa – before I know it, Laura is pulling my trousers and gives me a blow job on the sofa.

After a few minutes I tell her that if she wants sex we should probably go upstairs before I finish, but she refuses to move. I come there and then. No sex, but we both seem happy with the result.

After a relaxing evening, we are both feeling frisky and sex is on the cards. However, as we get into bed, she brings up some visa issues and the moment passes.

Monday

Laura wakes with stomach cramps and a very vocal desire to kill someone – then mentions that her period has begun.

We share passionate kisses all day, but sex is off the cards for a few days. I’m pretty exhausted, so it suits me. By next week I’m sure I’ll be refreshed and ready to go again.

For now, I can focus on finding the space I need to ensure this relationship lasts while she stays here permanently.

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