This is how we do it: ‘Sex was our glue – now if we fight, we can’t just screw and come out glowing’

Pam and Mike couldn’t keep their hands off each other when they met. But as aging and biology have taken their toll, their sex life has suffered

Pam, 69

We haven’t had sex in two years. Mike says it’s because his dick is dead

When I first spotted Mike across a crowded hookah bar, I was gobsmacked. His hair was wild and his clothes were crazy. He was exactly my type. Our relationship was built on that initial attraction, and it’s still there, but we haven’t had sex in two years. Mike says it’s because his dick is dead. Sometimes that makes me feel insecure, and I tell him: “You just don’t think I’m beautiful anymore”.

In our late 50s/early 60s, we were at it like rabbits. Once, on a hike, we were making out and a young couple came up to us to say they thought it was beautiful. I think it gave them hope that we can all hold on to that side of ourself as we age.

I’ve internalised society’s expectations of me as an “older woman”. Society desexualises you and you absorb that. Mike and I stopped prioritising sex until it eventually fell off the table: four days without it became two weeks; two weeks became six months. You can see it happening, but you stop talking about it because it feels too shameful. Then before you know it, it’s been two years.

Without sex, every touch is more meaningful. Because it’s not a prelude, it is the thing. But sex was once our glue – if we were in a fight, we’d have sex and get over it. Now we can’t just screw and come out the other side glowing, we have to work harder at our relationship.

Sex made me softer, and I liked that side of myself. Without it, my exterior is harder. Sex brought out my playful, imaginative side. I miss that. I’m thinking about how I can reclaim those parts of myself – I used to put on Marvin Gaye, wear a sexy outfit and dance for Mike. Who told me I had to give that up?

I’m going to find something sexy to wear to Burning Man this year, where everything pulses with sex and Mike is more attracted to me. Maybe we’ll get our mojo back then. When Mike tells me my ass looks great or he licks me on the cheek, I feel wanted – it tells me that I’m still a vibrant, attractive, sexy woman. I want to hold on to that for as long as I can.

Mike, 71

Viagra can give me an erection but it can’t give me desire

When I met Pam 11 years ago, I was going through a divorce and had been celibate for five years. We hit it off instantly. I liked everything about her: she was cute, smart and fun to be around. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other. I’d grab her ass or kiss her whenever she walked past, and we had sex several times a day.

That sexual connection kept us together in the beginning. But now my dick is dead, we don’t have sex any more, which is a sad thing to say out loud. I wish it hadn’t fallen off a cliff, but maybe we’re not meant to have sex at this age. Viagra can give me an erection but it can’t give me desire. My brain just isn’t connected to my penis the way it used to be.

The last time we had sex, I struggled to stay hard and it was painful for Pam. I thought to myself: this isn’t fun any more. It’s difficult to feel sexual when you’re hurting your partner. And sex can’t be spontaneous any more – for me to be hard enough and Pam to be wet enough, now it has to be planned with lube and Viagra.

I still desire Pam but I don’t show it any more. Sometimes I think about going up to her and giving her a hug, but something stops me. Maybe it’s laziness. I’d like Pam to touch me more. It doesn’t have to be a sexual touch – just anything that says she wants me.

Without sex, the intimacy has gone. And without intimacy, the relationship feels difficult. I always seem to be pissing her off, and she doesn’t think I’m as funny. We give each other pecks on the cheek and a kiss goodnight, but we don’t fool around or even kiss properly (a real spit-swapping kiss).

I feel as if I’m letting Pam down by not keeping my end of the bargain. I’d like us to have sex again, maybe we’ll try at Burning Man. But even if that doesn’t happen, I hope we can find other ways to feel close.

Names have been changed