#sexual-intimacy

#sexual-intimacy

When I first heard of Heated Rivalry, I didn't think much about it. The words Canadian ice-hockey TV series slid into my brain and slipped right back out. But a week later, approximately everyone I'd ever met wanted to talk about it. People kept telling me that it was fun, sweet, and addicting. Most of all, they emphasized that it was really smutty. Every recommendation seemed to come with a warning to not watch with my parents.

When fertility treatment leads to IVF with donor eggs, sex may have dropped off significantly. By this point, intimacy has often been under strain for some time. While this path can hold real hope of completing one's family, with many hurdles and no guarantees, it also adds another layer of pressure and emotional labor-helping explain why sex may have receded, not because desire is gone, but because sex has been tied to stress for too long.

He told me last night that while he understands that my hairiness does not have any bearing on my value as a human, he is repulsed by how hairy I am, and he cannot help his "subconscious preference for smoothness." I have no idea what the proper course of action here is. Right now, I don't even want to look at him or talk to him. I don't want to start waxing again.

When Ally and I first met, she was 25 and fresh out of uni, and I was 47 and recently separated from my wife. I walked into work every day and saw this beautiful young woman with long dark hair and the most fantastic smile. Eventually I did the cheesy thing and wrote her a note telling her how I felt. I didn't expect to hear from her.

After about six months of dating we decided to try an open arrangement so that Cameron could pursue people who are more sexual than I am. There were feelings of jealousy at first, but our relationship was strengthened because we had such strong communication, and I grew to feel really secure in our bond. It's been a huge blessing for us, because I've never loved sex.

I was twenty-two when I pulled my car across six lanes of traffic in Delaware. I should've made a right, circled around, and waited for the light. Instead, I aimed straight for the median, a shortcut I'd taken a dozen reckless times before. Headlights came at me fast. Then the slam: metal folding into metal, my body flung sideways, glass exploding. I wasn't wearing a seatbelt. If I had been, I believe the door would have cut me in half.

When we first met, 12 years ago, my husband and I didn't waste any time in starting the sexual part of our relationship. He warned me he was a sex addict, and I am enthusiastic about sex. On our first night together I was aware of some erectile dysfunction he wasn't entirely hard and benefited from holding himself when penetrating me though this didn't stop us reaching climax. We joked about how many times I would orgasm and neither of us seemed inhibited.

Sex remains a vital part of my happiness, yet balancing motherhood with self-care makes it challenging to find the mood for intimacy. Scheduling intimate moments aids in rekindling desire.