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Tuesday, April 23, 2019

My Husband And I Have Never Had Sex Sober’

I was 24 when I met my husband Mitch*. We worked together in a hotel in London – I was a receptionist and he was a chef in the restaurant. We’d kick back after our late shifts in the bar and share a few beers.

Mitch was quirky and cute, tall and well built. He had big dark eyes and the longest eyelashes I’ve ever seen on a man. He was smart and funny, and all the girls on staff thought he was adorable.

I liked him and I felt like he liked me too, but neither of us was great at romance, so we’d tease one another and have a laugh, but neither of us had the guts to take it any further.

One of our colleagues rolled her eyes at us once and said: “For god’s sake, you two are like kids in the sand pit, throwing sand and pulling each other’s plaits. Just admit you like each other and go on a date already!”

When I saw Mitch blushing I felt like I had the confirmation I needed to make a move. That night after our shift, I waited until everyone else had left the bar and I asked Mitch if he wanted to come back to my place for another drink. I was so relieved when he said yes.

The first time
The moment we walked through my front door, it was on. We kissed and groped and removed items of each other’s clothing right there in the hallway. He carried me into my bedroom and we had mad, sweaty, passionate – and quite intoxicated – sex.

It was wonderful.

From that moment on, Mitch and I were a couple. We were living on the other side of the world, travelling when we could afford it, but mostly just working and earning enough to pay for after-work beers and a few weekends away.

During the day we’d talk and laugh, hold hands and flirt.

Every night we’d have a few drinks
That’s why I didn’t notice it happening at first. It wasn’t that we needed to drink in order to be intimate, it’s just that we were drinking every night anyway.

We were Australians living overseas, having a great time with no responsibilities. We partied hard and we had a lot of fun together.

It wasn’t until well after we’d decided to move back home together that it started to hit me.

We found ourselves jobs and an apartment, and we settled into life back in Australia as many travellers do. Our lives became more normal and we started to get older and more set in our ways.

During this time our sex life started to settle too. We’d been together for a couple of years by this stage, so I just assumed we only had sex on weekends because we were busy and stressed during the week.

Warning signs
Our inability to talk about our feelings or anything intimate followed us deep into our relationship. We got along well, and we rarely fought. We still don’t. But now I realise it’s probably because neither of us knows how to express our emotions.

Mitch and I got engaged after three years together. He asked me to marry him while we were at a music festival. We’d been drinking all day. Looking back now, I wonder if he ever would have asked me without alcohol.

But we happily planned our wedding, and the day itself was wonderful.

I started the day with champagne, as many brides do, and finished it with some ecstatic marital sex with my drunk husband.

Two kids later ...
It’s now 12 years since we first met, and we’ve had two children. Even when we were trying to conceive our sons, we had to have a drink before having sex. We were on a strict roster of sex every two days when I was ovulating, and we would have a drink or two each time to warm up.

On one occasion, we went on holidays with my in-laws while we were trying to get pregnant, and found ourselves in a hotel room with nothing to drink but a warm bottle of tequila we’d grabbed as we left home.

Mitch asked if I just wanted to skip sex this time because we were both tired and had been driving all day, but I didn’t want to waste an opportunity. We both downed three shots of warm tequila each, and went at it like rabbits.

Two weeks later I found out I was pregnant
Mitch and I love each other a lot, but in order for us to get in the mood, we need to have a drink. It’s an unspoken, but clearly understood rule.

We don’t drink much during the week these days, but on the weekends we’ll have a glass of wine or two. Sometimes we have sex, sometimes we fall asleep in front of the TV.

I don’t even like drinking that much anymore, but I fear what it would do to my relationship if I gave up completely. Without a drink, we might never have sex again. It seems too late to change it now.

*Name has been changed.

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