IN THEORY you’re totally down to f**k, but since you turned 40 there’s so much that’s more satisfying than making the beast with two backs:
An empty sink
Imagine waking up for work without the washing-up waiting for you. Making a cuppa without first scraping the greasy sediment of take-away scum from your bowl. The deep pleasure of not eying last night’s burned-on lasagne as you eat cereal. Sexy times.
Watching a full movie
Remember the time before kids? Those heady evenings when you could devote a full 120 minutes to the suspension of disbelief? And now, on a rare night when the kids are asleep, you’re expected to cut The Meg short just to have sex? F**k that. Whole movie, uninterrupted, start to finish. What a horny way to spend a night.
Ironing your clothes and putting your T-shirts on hangers
You kinky bastard. Reaching into the wardrobe for a clean pressed shirt and feeling the erotic thrill of the fabric beneath your fingers. Glancing at the empty washing basket with satiated pride. You did that, you provocative little beast. And you deserve it.
The anticipation of sex can give you a buzz all evening, but so can a nicely chilled Riesling. And you can make it last an hour then open another bottle, which is very much not the case with sex anymore. So uncork with abandon and let it do what it wants to your body.
You used to be a voracious reader. Now you manage 15 minutes on a good night, and a third of that’s spent trying to remember who’s who. God, imagine the sensual thrill of being in bed early, your partner already asleep, and finishing a whole chapter. So arousing.
A bunch of other things that need no explanation
Hot pizza. Cold pizza. Sunny weather on a bank holiday weekend. Affordable curtain rails. Calling a support centre and not having to hold. Remembering where you put your glasses. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep.