It’s not revolutionary. It’s not unthinkable. It’s just time-consuming.
I cock an eyebrow when he raises the subject out of nowhere, or so it seems.
“Sex twice a day,” he says.
I pause. I wonder if he’s bragging, requesting, stating a fact, or trying to get my attention.
If it’s the latter, he succeeded. How could he not?
OK, I’ll bite. This appears to be an opening gambit. Or a negotiation. Or a play for attention. I have been at my computer for long hours, day after day.
Even as he makes his case, I recognize I’ve been distant. Working non-stop. Yet, as I note the endearing and mischievous grin on his face, I’m mentally calculating the time required, subtracting that total from available hours and concluding, well … he’s got to be kidding.
“What did you just say?” I ask.
“Sex twice a day. What do you think?”
I have nothing against sex twice a day in principle, but I’m a busy woman. So what do I nudge off the plate to make time?
Yes, there are quickies. But that notion is highly personal. This level of recreation might still involve hours … I know, I know. We should all have such problems. And besides, I like sex. I’m a woman of a “certain age” and I’m delighted to be considered in so saucy a context.
While reluctant to dismiss the idea, I’m well aware that even once a day isn’t always so simple — when not on vacation. Of course, in the summer, he’s on vacation, but I’m not. And then there is the college kid, clanging around the house at all hours. Hello, distraction. Goodbye, libido.
As for the statistics? I know they aren’t pretty, whether we’re married or otherwise involved. I also know my good fortune at this stage, and I don’t take it lightly.
As the conversation continues, he ticks off the health benefits:
- Great for the abs. Check.
- Great cardio. Check.
- Use it or lose It. Uh-huh.
- Stress relief. Check.
And then there is the overlooked, the under-appreciated, the all-important: Physical affection contributes to emotional intimacy. Besides, sex is fun!
Reviewing the data, we might presume the following. There’s nothing unreasonable or unusual in wanting sex twice a day. But you need a partner with the same inclination and logistics may pose the problem, not desire or capacity.
There’s age to consider as well — as I’m of the femme d’un certain âge set, and my man friend finds himself in the same demographic. Shall we factor in his nationality? Though long an American citizen, he’s French by birth and in some measure, by sensibilities — bien sûr. My preference for French ceci et cela is widely known; his presence in my life is another stroke of luck. Might his frequency fancy be tied to cultural influences?
But the data available is confusing, and we can reasonably assume that respondents are “tweaking.” Are we having more sex than the numbers reflect? More extra-marital affairs? More partners as well? Or does everything come up in the "less often" department, as we seek to downplay what we don’t care to express?
Incidentally, I recall a figure used some years back, indicating the average sexual frequency to be 127 times a year. So is that married or single? At 30 or 60? Male or female? Under what circumstances?
A few items I came up with, looking more recently:
According to sources referencing a 2011 Durex survey, 2/3 of us feel we don’t have sex often enough.
And a similarly referenced 2010 survey shows, those over 65 are still having sex more than once a week.
Then again, we could consider PsychCentral references and more recent studies, specifically within the context of marriage. While stating that “sexual satisfaction is a complex and multi-faceted construct,” they nonetheless conclude:
The more sexual frequency, the more reported happiness.
As to the reason for this bit of sharing? Well, he brought up the subject. The least I could do was respond in kind. And it’s nearly the weekend. Theoretically, that’s playtime.
Of course, I have my own sources I rely on — such as the knowledge that I’m dealing with a French man, and French women over 50, or so it’s reported, have more sex. (Not that I’m admitting to 50, mind you.)
Oh, those cultural touchstones. So important, aren’t they?
As to outcomes to be assumed from our discussion, I leave you to your imagination. I don’t kiss and tell. But I must admit, I’m pleased to be asked to the ball ... by the marvelous man who fills my dance card.