When is enough, enough?
Mr Hot Wax lives in London during the week, coming home for the weekends. Each Friday I flop into bed after an exhausting week of waxing where I know he will begin his Friday night fumbling ritual, which consists of a quick grope of the boob, sliding down to my nether regions, and using his hand as a lever will try to poke his way in. I will usually clamp my legs tight and mumble that I’m tired and he should wait ‘til the weekend - the backup suggestion of a hand shandy, whilst admiring the curves of my behind means I can turn my back to him and slip into a coma whilst he does his bit. The process is as painful as it is predictable.
This weekend he announced over his bedtime cup of tea that “once a week just isn’t enough”. My response was swift and perhaps a little harsh “You’re 52 years old; it should have shriveled up by now! - AND after 25 years of marriage aren’t you even just a little bored of the routine of it all - I know I am”.
This has opened up a whole new debate in the Hot Wax household. He threw examples all weekend from Cosmo et al about how wrinklies are now the hot sex couples of the decade; I threw him dirty looks all weekend and refused to put out.
Setting aside for a moment the reasons why he is still up for it like a dog on heat whilst I’d rather have a warm cup of cocoa and an early night with a good book, it’s made me wonder just how much ‘enough’ is enough? Just how many times should we be doing it?
When you are in the first flush of a relationship (no matter what age you are I guess), enough is usually when your bits down below turn a very strange shade of purple and you start walking like a penguin, that’s of course if you can walk at all.
But after some time together the lust goes and sex is supposed to turn to one of loving mutual enjoyment to be enjoyed at a time you both agree is right - without that desperate need to fulfill it at every opportunity. Sadly it just usually falls into mundane boring unfulfilling sameness. And it’s at this point - whether it’s after 5 years or 25 years when what the bloke expects and what the bloke gets are two very different things. I say ‘blokes’ because it seems in general it’s ladies who are first to switch off the ‘shag me senseless’ neon sign above their heads, whereas blokes have theirs permanently switched on. The only exception to this is when a woman wants babies and then the neon goes back on - but usually only when they are ovulating. Once a month is a common figure touted.
I turned to the trusted sources at Waxed Works and in 100% of cases those women co-habiting or married for 5 years or more experience the same pressures and face the same arguments as in the Hot Wax household. Even in the case of one client who is trying for a baby, she could only just about face sex once a fortnight. Something very seriously wrong is going on behind the curtains of the bedrooms of people in long-term relationships (at least in Norfolk.)
When asked why, again the response is unanimous, they can’t just switch the neon sign on and off at a whim, it’s all too ‘samey - all too predictable’, some have resorted to other means of getting satisfaction, be it open marriages, swinging, affairs or just getting the old rabbit out. One client, rather inventively I feel, has been having sex therapy and apparently its doing wonders (another article me thinks). And if that’s what it takes and you’re all happy with that then great go for it, but surely the answer is far simpler and less risky than some options?
America’s trusted voice, Dr Phil says that “the average time between when a man thinks, 'Aha! It's time to have sex,' and when he is finished is two and a half minutes. For women, it's 14 minutes. So that means the guy's got to figure out something to do for 10 or 12 minutes in there or it's not going to be working out very well for her." So guys, you just need to up the pre-amble and be prepared to take a bit of time.
In truth, I don’t really care how many times a week we do it - be it 1 or 10, for me (and for the majority of us girls) it’s quality that counts not quantity. And that - quite frankly guys - is the rub of it!
Fannie Annie xx