Sex in the Seventies
No, no, no—I don’t mean the 1970s. I mean the seventh decade of one’s life.
For anyone under that age, your gagging reflux might kick in when you think of older people having sex. I get it. When I see an older couple kissing and making out in a movie, I get a little queasy. My usual response is “Oh my gosh—do we look like that? Ugh, what a turn-off.”
So, don’t worry; I promise to keep this essay quietly tucked under a PG rating and I will not attach any videos.
But take a look at the photo above, one of my husband and me just a few months ago, getting all giddy for one another. We are indeed a sexy couple. We can’t keep our hands off each other.
I am always putting my knee over his thigh when we sit after I pull his chair close to mine … very, very close. Our vibrations are perfectly aligned, and staying near him keeps my chi humming.
Sitting on his lap in public is not uncommon. We hold hands and smooch constantly. We snuggle and cuddle and touch without a care in the world as to who might be offended. When you are in your seventies, you can get away with almost anything.
People say, “Oh, you both are so adorable.” Younger people find older people cute.
We have always been unabashedly demonstrative. I love my husband’s smell and can’t refrain from sniffing him at all hours of the day and night. He thinks I am sexy and checks me out not just for Lyme ticks, but when I come out of the shower. He gets that glint in his eye, and I know something might come of it.
My husband had his prostate removed ten years ago. He didn’t want it out, but I begged him to get it removed to reduce the chance of the cancer spreading. He did not need chemo or radiation and once they plucked that little f*^k## from him he remained cancer-free, and still is today. His big worry was how he would “perform” without a prostate.
Now I could get into the dirty little details, but I won’t bother you with all of that and I don’t want to see this website banned on social media. But I can offer you the following.
Our lovemaking has never been as tender, frequent, romantic, experimental, creative or vibrant as it is today. Rick is 75 and I just turned 74 and we are hot for each other and hot in the sack.
I know there are lots of folks out there moaning and groaning and screaming, “toooooo much information, Melinda!”. Just for the joy of watching you all cringe, I could provide more details, but I must draw the line.
Let’s just leave it at this: having a deep and profoundly meaningful sexual relationship in your seventies and beyond is human nature and for me and my man it has never been better.