Edward, 60
When I dreamed about Jane in a latex catsuit, we had one made
When I met Jane through a dating website 22 years ago, I wasn’t looking for anything serious. As the single father of a troubled teenager whose mother left when he was a child, my life was stressful and dating wasn’t a priority. I came away from our first date thinking Jane was lovely, but there were no sparks and I didn’t expect to see her again. But when I found myself with a day off, I phoned to ask if she wanted to go for another coffee. I’m glad I did, because what we have is much deeper than a spark: it’s a love that just keeps growing.
In the early years, Jane offered me an escape from my stressful home life. We’d go for walks, to cafes and galleries, have fantastic sex, then return to our ordinary lives – her as a single mum, me as a single dad.
We moved in together after five years, and got married after 11. Now the kids have grown up and left home, it’s just the two of us. We’re no longer embarrassing parents kissing in the kitchen, and for the first time, sex can be spontaneous. There have been dinners that have ended up in the bin because all we want is each other.
A couple of years ago, I started experiencing erectile dysfunction. I miss the physical connection that comes with penetration, but it hasn’t affected our closeness. It upsets me more than it upsets Jane, but it just means we have to be more inventive.
I think of sex as playtime and have a vivid imagination. If I have a sex dream, we’ll often turn it into reality. When I dreamed about Jane in a latex catsuit, we had one made. The anticipation – having it measured, made and delivered – was as exciting as the outcome. My only worry is that the fantasies are always mine. Under the covers, I ask Jane about hers, but I haven’t found anything yet.
Jane, 58
The buildup is as important as the sex itself – even if it’s just going for a walk with nothing under my coat
Edward and I are very different – he’s creative and quirky; I’m analytical and vanilla. When he wakes from one of his vivid, lucid sex dreams, he’ll suggest we try it out. He desperately wants me to have fantasies of my own, but he’s got enough for the both of us – and when I try to think of one, it never seems interesting. Anyway, I already get so much pleasure from fulfilling his fantasies.
We storyboard, act out and film the scenarios that Edward invents with costumes, music and props. The buildup is as important as the sex itself. Even if it’s just going for a walk with nothing under my coat, planning the route and deciding where to park the car is all part of it. When Edward tells me what to wear, it’s a rush knowing how much it turns him on. It’s a real confidence boost knowing your husband is still physically attracted to you at 58.
The erectile dysfunction doesn’t bother me, but it really upsets Edward. He worries about the future, fearing it will never work again.
When we got together, when I was 36, both of us were coming out of broken relationships. After my husband left out of the blue, I lost confidence and, alone with two young children, I thought I’d never date again. It took a lot of talking to be reassured that I wasn’t going to be left like that again.
Two decades later, the sex is better as we now know what turns each other on. But I feel closest to Edward when we’re out walking together. The other day, I was cycling back from town and felt so excited to see him. We find constant delight in each other, and that’s only increased over the years.
