All men want…


When did you last have sex? Does your libido feel like a dog trying to nudge its dead owner back to life? Then you’re not alone.

A married girlfriend of mine was relining the hamster cage with newspaper when she glimpsed an article headlined “Sex Ten Times a Year” and she thought Gosh, that much?! Reading on, she was mortified to discover that sex ten times a year means your love life is defunct. Hopeless. Dysfunctional.

Confessing to her lacklustre love life over cocktails at our next girls’ gathering, prompted a candid conversation. “So, when was the last time you had sex?’ I probed another married pal. 

‘On my birthday, if you must know . . . my birthday three years ago. It was like being ravaged by a tree sloth.”

We cackled like a witch’s coven, but beneath the banter and bonhomie a sad truth emerged. It seems the only physical contact many middle-aged women experience is at a bra-fitting. It’s got so bad that some of my female friends actually look forward to their mammograms!

Mothers have always made daughters believe that the male libido is an untameable beast: that sex is all men want. Well, come middle age, and sex is all most women want! “Why did I ever say no?” they growl. “I can’t believe all the male appendage I batted away in my youth!” lamented another post-menopausal girlfriend. For many middle-aged Mums the only thing she’s getting between the sheets is an anti-climax.

And it’s not as though my married female friends aren’t making the right, seductive moves. But too often their amorous advances are rebuffed with a chaste goodnight peck on the cheek and a pat on the shoulder  – three pats, like you would give a trusty old dog – before hubby rolls over and starts snoring. A bloke couldn’t make his rejection more obvious if he built a Trump-style wall down the middle of the bed.

The kids have left home, you’re working less, maybe even retiring. You have all the time in the world to devote to each other, so who wouldn’t want a last hormonal hurrah? But, how to rekindle his flagging interest? Firstly, rule out any obvious problems. Has he got brewer’s droop? Maybe he’s a secret alcoholic – or, as they say in Adelaide, “likes wine tastings”?’ Or perhaps it’s an unfulfilled sexual fantasy? Check out his online browsing history. If there’s no dogs or dominatrixes in sight, it could be an affair? But if your fella is still wearing his old saggy, baggy undies, isn’t man-scaping or taking up cycling in skin-tight lycra then the sad fact is his flag pole is just stuck at half mast.

So, what’s the solution when your lover’s as limp as a two week old lettuce? There’s always Vitamin V. But some men won’t take the little blue pill, seeing it as a slight to their masculinity. A little surreptitiously applied testosterone gel when he’s asleep can work some hormonal magic, or simply buy oysters by the bucketload.  When a girlfriend purchased some WD40, cheekily branded Start Ya Bastard, I jokingly suggested she rush back into the boudoir to spray it onto her husband’s nether regions – at least I hope she knew I was joking.

Experts would probably advise some kind of therapy – mindfulness, cognitive, equine … But surely ‘equine therapy’ for middle-aged mums is finding a man who’s hung like a horse.

The reason many middle-aged women comfort eat is because they’re suffering from sexual hunger pangs. If she can’t put “men” back on the menu, only chocolate can hit the spot; sadly, not the G spot, as she’s prefer. In short boys, keep rejecting your spouse in the bedroom and she’ll soon have her own postcode. In other words, if you don’t want a wife full of fast food, then don’t starve her of slow sex.

For more on middle aged sex, slip between the covers of my latest novel, “HRT – Husband Replacement Therapy” and do share your R-rated thoughts with me.


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