Taking out a period of weeks following the birth of each of our four boys and I can say that mine and RM’s sex life has never suffered any lean periods. If you’d asked me just over a month ago I would have told you I wished for absolutely nothing on a carnal level, that all my desires and kinks were catered for, so it was a complete and utter surprise to me when RM came home from the Optometrist wearing a plain pair of eyeglasses to reveal how short-sighted I’d been.
The yearning I felt at seeing her face behind those shiny black rims was immediate and irrepressible. On the inside I was like a cat with a claw stuck in the carpet hissing and shaking and doing back flips. I wanted to take her right there by the thawing lamb chops on the kitchen bench!
Such forceful desire has only been present during two other periods of my life:
1) When Dad gave me a poster of a female rock star (I think Deborah Harry of Blondie fame). I hung it on the wall at the foot of my bed and there were several times I barricaded the door to focus completely on her, my body and mind screaming ‘Come Alive! Oh why can’t you just come alive?!’ like a test-tube-carrying Dr Frankenstein over his dormant monster.
2) In my early teens and right up until I met RM in a brick veneer home owned by an Anglican Minister in the tiny country town of Mortlake when I thought of sex every four and a half minutes (which I later found out was twice as often as the national average). Frequent in my 24/7 imaginings was the sultry, experienced, cunningly nonchalant woman who would take me under her wing and transform me from a pleading-eyed immature boy into a strong, confident, fully grown man she could treat as a personal love-slave.
I couldn’t get her glasses out of my head and texted many naughty things to her over the coming weeks including, 'Next date night you can be a student teacher and I’ll be your most disruptive student' and 'Or maybe you’re a librarian and you come to my house to collect the fine for some overdue books but on discovering I am very poor you suggest another way to pay it off' and 'Or maybe you can be a lawyer representing me on sexual harassment charges who decides I need to get a dose of my own medicine…'
The electricity in me passed over to RM. She started to leave the box to her eyeglasses around for me to find while she was at work and I’d open it to find clever little flirty notes that linked sex and eyeglasses together like, 'I’m going to make a spectacle out of you tonight' and suddenly we were there again, experimenting, flavouring our world with a different kind of spice, driven by the frenetic sexual intensity that’s more indicative of the very early stages of a relationship.