Something moved, I’m not sure it was the Earth

I’ve been with my boy for six years, most of which we’ve spent “living as married” as the authorities put it. This means (among other things) living with the ebb and flow of a maturing relationship – squabbles about gas bills, cleaning rotas & whether courgettes are real food.

It also means ups and downs in libido and sexual attraction. There’ve been times when we had lots of sex, and times when I’ve wondered if we were doing it just to keep the national average up. There was also a time when I was depressed – the libido equivalent of locking yourself into a chastity belt and swallowing the key along with a handful of roofies.

I’ve come to accept the changeable nature of long-term sex. For a while I resented the fact that the honeymoon period had to end – why don’t we fuck four times a day anymore? Blame work, blame money, blame something other than the trajectory of a growed-up relationship.

I’ve since made my peace with this (and come off the pill, so that I’m physically connected with sex in a better way), so I was somewhat surprised, in a very pleasant way, when last night I had the best orgasm of my entire fucking life (expletives necessary on many levels).

I consider myself something of a connoisseur, sexually speaking. I’ve done it quite a lot, with all sorts of people, and plenty of it has been pretty fucking mind-blowing, especially when I was an overly horny teenager.

Last night I felt everything I’ve ever felt before and more. I felt 15 again, but I also felt 5,000 – like I was connected to everyone who’s ever enjoyed a great orgasm. And connected to every cell in my body, every star in the sky, every tortuous epic movie.

Amazing feeling, and amazing to have a boy who slips things like that in among the petty pace of day to day living. Maybe I’ll marry this one!

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