Tag Archives: libido

Age positive

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It is the thing that strikes fear into most people, the thing we like to think will never happen to us.

No, not getting to the supermarket checkout and realising you forgot your purse or leaving the toilet with your skirt tucked into the back of your knickers! I am talking about old age, the thing that teenagers think happens when one hits 30.

If something awful doesn’t happen to us, it’s as inevitable as death and taxes, even if we get a nip and tuck or wear body-shaping undies. And as someone who feels pretty downbeat if she goes without action for a couple of weeks, I dread to reach the point when I’m too saggy/droopy/dry/knackered/haggard/generally clapped-out to get any ever again. I sometimes wonder if I’ve already reached that point…

On the other hand, I don’t want to be some toothless old crone gumming a doddery chap’s chemically induced hard-on. Then having to call home care to help me to my feet when my arthritis-riddled knees lock.

So when do we stop doing it? Not for a while if recent studies are to be believed. Apparently, STDs among over 50s have risen dramatically in recent years.  In a recent survey commissioned by Age UK a quarter of over 65s said their sex life hadn’t changed as they got older. And 8% were keen to pursue a new sexual relationship while 12% said they wanted to try new things with their partners. I also have a friend in her early 70s who still has sex with her partner, thanks to some ‘special cream’ she gets from the doctor to keep her lubricated – the main problem with women after the menopause.

It does worry me that women’s libidos seem to decline as they get older – without that, I am not sure I will still have a pulse, but maybe I need to plan future hobbies like crochet and embroidery. Men seem to keep going, as long as they can still get it up – something now helped along with modern medicine. But sexually active older men have a habit of chasing after much younger women, leaving us old biddies to fend for ourselves, read our knitting patterns or try our luck with a toy boy.

I also wonder what happens if you are living in a residential home and sexually active. Will staff respect your privacy and leave you to it, or will they treat you like a naughty teenager and ‘ground’ you – “No Countdown for a week, Mrs DSM and from now on you and Albert will not be in the same Scrabble team!”

I fear that it’s the latter, as people over 70 seem to be suddenly treated like they cannot think for themselves, even if they are compos mentis e.g. “Shall we get you out of bed now, Mrs Jones and how about we have a cup of tea?” The tone and language is the same I use with my two-year-old.

Maybe bonking Albert two doors down is the ultimate two fingers up to anyone who condescends and patronises like this.

From mediocre to magic

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So, how was that? Did I go too far in that last post? Time to move on, pull your trousers up or wrap the duvet around you and assume the slightly more demure post-coital position of someone not sure what they have just done and how they got there.. Have another glass of wine or cup of tea.

You may think Drunken Slut Mum is a woman lacking any conscience or morality, without any feelings or care for anyone else other than herself. She likes to pretend this, especially in front of the man, but sorry, this isn’t the case.

DSM feels, hurts, loves and laughs just like any other woman. I love my children so much it hurts and sometimes ask myself if it’s possible to kiss those soft, plump cheeks too many times and bury my face in their Honeysuckle hair. I cry at really emotional love scenes in films and if I stub my toe or cut my finger it’s very hard not to say “cunty-bollocks” and cry out in pain.

You may think DSM is a vision of beauty with a perfect body with all the carnal pleasure she is enjoying, but you would also be wrong here – although if this helps your fantasy, please carry on picturing Angelina Jolie or Beyoncé. The reality is I am mediocre, could do with losing a few pounds (especially off the baby belly) and am thirty-ahem-ahem. I don’t even have any talents to boast – mediocre again – although The Man seems to enjoy my blow jobs. My headstone epitaph could read ‘Here lies DSM – she was pretty mediocre but did reasonably good blow jobs’ but then again I may be old when I cark it and have false teeth, so a blow job by then could be a risky undertaking…

So, as you come with me on my journey, remember I am just like you, a normal, non-specific person.

I am not here to corrupt or moralise – I have done these things both married and separated. I served seven years of inadequately sexed married life before The Man came along and reminded me what it was like to have a libido – I thought mine went missing somewhere in the Mediterranean before the ex and I even tied the knot.

The power of The Man is that he helped me find my missing libido, that once-mystical concept of the orgasm and multiple orgasm and for the too-brief snatches of time we have together made me feel like I was no longer mediocre, but a sexy, special and desirable woman – me on the inside but an airbrushed, toned and gorgeous temptress on the outside.