If anyone had told me a few years ago that I would know myself so well sexually I would have dismissed them as fanciful. I did!
If anyone had told me a few years ago that I would enjoy sex as much as I do I would have doubted that it was possible. I doubt no more.
If anyone had told me a few years ago that my desire for sex would be so intense I would have laughed at the prospect. I laugh at such a prospect no more.
Women in their forties, women at the prime of their lives should be enjoying sex, valuing their sexuality, celebrating their heightened libido.
Women in their forties should recognise the need and the desire for sex. They should know themselves well enough to appreciate when they are at their sexual peak and when their sexual urges are most prevalent, and they should not be alarmed if this sometimes feels that the button is pushed to constant.
I know I sound like a broken record but I really want women of my age to know what they are capable of enjoying sexually. I want women to know how utterly wonderful this regenerated sexuality can be. I want women who are currently in their thirties, who feel that their libido has disappeared, to know that there is a sexual future for them, and that it is totally exciting and invigorating; nothing like they have experienced before.
It all sounds so perfectly wonderful; ongoing orgasms, juicy ejaculations, increased libido.
Only it’s not that simple. There is a flip side to this delightful, perpetual state of sexuality. Sometimes the need and desire are not practical. Sometimes the need and desire cannot be fulfilled. That can be immensely frustrating.
I love wanking. I am really quite fond of doing things to myself that enriches my sexuality. I have adored learning about my own body; looking through a camera lens or a mirror at the complexities of my pussy. I have amazed myself at how turned on I am by my own sexuality; like a circle of sexual wellbeing – I masturbate, I look at how my cunt is aroused and this in itself exacerbates my arousal, and so it goes on. I feel particularly fortunate that I can bring myself to climax but I would hate to be reliant on this as my only form of sexual expression.
Sometimes though, that is what I have to rely on, and that can be exasperating. As I said, masturbation is fine and I would be the first to advocate it. I probably don’t do it enough but there is often a reason for this. If I wank, then this increases my desire for a fuck. It also releases a huge energetic climax but these days, I’m a multiple orgasm gal and one wank leads to a desire for another, and cock. That is why I like to wank in front of my lover because I know that it is arousing both of us and that after I have had a flourishing cum, he can whip his already aroused cock deep inside me and I can have a lot of what really turns me on.
But sometimes wanking on your own is not enough. Sometimes those with high libidos just want sex, penetrative sex. Sometimes, you just want to open your legs and await a huge erect cock and nothing else will do.
I count myself as very fortunate. I probably have sex more frequently than most. I definitely have wonderful sex more frequently than most but what I don’t have is the prospect of penetrative sex whenever I or my lover wants it.
That is frustrating too.
It’s also interesting that sometimes I can cope with it and there are other times when the need for sex is almost overwhelming, the desire so palpable that I feel as though I am going to go slightly insane if I cannot get what I want.
Part of that is an inherent impatience but part of it is a healthy respect for my increased libido, if that makes sense. I respect and acknowledge the extent of my sexuality even if this leads to a certain disappointment that I cannot have sex.
Recently, I haven’t had to wait that long for sex. I’ve had to wait for much longer periods of time in the past but this time the waiting has seemed so very long.
I’ve asked myself over and over again whether it is just the sex. But it’s not.
I’ve been wanking daily, with the exception of one day, so I’ve had my fair share of orgasms. I’ve done some fantasising and kept my mind alert to sexual thoughts. So sex in itself has been present in my days of not having penetrative sex.
And when I had the chance to have a gorgeous cock inside me, I didn’t feel so desperate that I needed to have him inside me immediately.
What I realised that I wanted more than anything was a hug. I needed and wanted human touch. I wanted the warmth of intimacy that is there on the telephone, in every communication, but feels so much more vital when it is accompanied by the immediacy of togetherness. I wanted the closeness of simply sitting in a room and occasionally reaching out to one another.
I think what I am trying to say is that every woman in her forties should recognise that they are sexual beings and that they should explore all aspects of their sexuality but they should also realise that if they are to get the best out of their sexuality, it should, if possible, be accompanied by plenty of meaningful hugs!
That is stating it too simply.
What I am really saying, once more, that sex is not just about the physical. Sex is far more complex than that.
I am responsible for my own happiness. I’m responsible for my own sexuality. Sometimes though, I am humbled by the love and affection of another that contributes so much to my wellbeing and to my sexuality.
Rightly or wrongly I feel like a different person today having had a healthy dose of consideration and conversation.
And a healthy dose of cock too!
It is so vital for me - all of it.
Today, I have had a completeness of everything even if there wasn’t quite time to embrace the fullness of our sexuality with one another. We had sex and we both needed it. It was utterly wonderful but there’s never enough time and it was the togetherness and the physical closeness that was as needed as the sex.
So, bringing this rambling to a needy conclusion I am suggesting that this particular forty something woman needs something extra for mind blowing, satisfied and stimulating sex, and she is forever humbled by what she has.
Maybe it isn’t just the age that is important for a woman’s sexuality to be at its peak. Maybe the only reason that I, like other women of my age, can have a complete and fulfilled sexual life is more to do with my outlook on life, more to do with the maturity and development of the mind, the understanding of oneself than the fact that I am in my forties.
Clearly maturity comes with chronology but not always.
It’s time to open minds as well as legs. Enjoy the latter now but nurture the former too.
I'm still committed to the notion that women in their forties are at their sexual peak. I'm still committed to the idea of spreading the word about this and enlightening people on their own sexual potential. I still advocate that women should be exploring their sexuality without the constraints that currently contain some women and that if women want to fuck around (safely) enjoying multiple partners with no desire for intimacy, then that is fine too, if that is what gets them off.
For me though, however much I adore sex, it would never be enough on its own.
I want sex with intimacy because that excites me more than anything else.
And yes, sex can be done alone, and it's fucking good, but I need and want so much more.
I really do think that I need penetrative sex with my lover on a daily basis but I want the hugs too. But then I am a greedy girl who is more of an idealist than a realist, and I would never be so selfish as to thrust myself on him, oblivious to his needs jsut to satsify my ruthlessly huge libido.
And now I am off to bed where I am going to tickle my labia with my fingers and then I am going to have a feel around for the remnants of sperm from a very satisfied cock that so recently spunked in me.
Oh, and before that I will take my panties off which are currently inside out and back to front such was the appalling rush that I reclothed myself earlier.
Mmmmmm - love being so fucked that I cannot remember how to dress myself afterwards.
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