I write this article on day 78 of lockdown, 2020. We are now on day 421 in 2021
By day 3 of lockdown the realization had set in, life was different, very very different.
Well of course life was different and full of new challenges, it goes without saying; but I thought I had lockdown covered.
I was making home gym work, I ran the dog around the house, I worked in my office, I ate healthily, kept the house clean; all in all I was keeping a routine – I was doing brilliantly…
Except for one crucial thing…the space and quietness to enjoy sex, or even a quiet play on my own.
Teenagers – they never sleep, they never stop moving from one space to another, they complain, they demand, they eat, they leave a mess, they miss their friends, they live their own hell 24 hours a day – in their outside voices.
What was the old normal? A stolen morning when children went to school; a Saturday night when adults were home alone; going out for a romantic dinner; having an uninterrupted conversations; dancing with a stranger at a party…and the list goes on.
I have reinvented the wheel many times before, adjusting to new ‘normals’ so there had to be a way.
If only my partner and I could escape to the West wing, or sneak off to the attic, maybe the wine cellar…but alas this is not my reality. I know without question that I am fortunate to have the space I have to get through lockdown, but it is a changed space, no doubt about that.
And then there was the waning desire. Living ground hog day was doing nothing for my libido, not to mention the lack of income.
It is documented that the more sex you have the more you want; a bit like food really; eat more, your stomach stretches and you will want more and even believe you need more to survive. Some people need 3 meals a day, some more…let’s just say my quota was radically down, and I’m not talking about meals you prepare in the kitchen.
Research shows that people make a noise during sex, not because they need to, but because they want to turn their partners on.
Levels of pleasure and enjoyment are signalled by sounds as encouragement…keep going, I like it, you’re doing it right! But supposedly it’s quite possible to be silent.
Well bollocks to that I say. If I was a tennis player, I would be one of those noisy servers, you know the professionals who grunt as the ball hits the racquet. When I play on my own, no not tennis, I make sounds of release and pleasure, I’m certainly not doing that for my toy. And speaking of toys, mine are silent ish, but sitting on the toilet with the door locked, hoping the ever present teenagers are actually doing their google classroom stuff, was hardly any kind of fun.
Sneaking off to the bathroom for a ‘don’t even think about making a sound, maintenance quickie’ with my partner was also not covering it. And the less sex I had, the less I seemed to want. As the weeks ticked on, the weight of lockdown had left me uninspired, lacking in passion and desire, and losing the will to even bother to have a quick fiddle on my own.
It was all starting to feel like an effort rather than a pleasure.
Time for serious action.
I engineered a few quickies with my partner in a sloot out the back of our house, to change it up a bit. Eeuw, not great, and didn’t up the ante. I tried the first thing in the morning slot, when I was guaranteed the teenagers were asleep; it landed up being a more comfortable variation on the ‘don’t even think about making a sound’ quickie – not what I was aiming for; and who sets their alarm to have sex!
Finally Night 37 of lockdown , yes 37, think about that… it was time for ‘Mission Covid Covert Coitus.’
It was a Saturday night. The teenagers were awake, moving around, watching Netflix on some device, showing no sign of sleep. In the lounge my partner and I had the TV blaring, while actually having a small power nap, call it a siesta if you like.
This was to give us the stamina to outlast the teenagers.
The nap may have been a little longer than planned, but I woke with start, must have been something on the TV and eureka…the house was quiet. Could it be true, the teenagers had gone to sleep?
Our party could start. And start it did. Whiskey was poured…
…the oversized sweat pants were exchanged for some sexy underwear and we were ready to rock and roll.
This was not maintenance sex, not a quickie, not a sympathy shag…hot, amazing, all-consuming love making. If noise woke the sleepers, I was past caring.
You know those sessions that just work. They go on for ages, you cum deep and hard and multiple times; toys are thrown into the mix, legs are thrown into the air, caution is thrown into the wind. It’s just glorious.
I felt revitalised, energised and ready for, well more lockdown I guess.
And I also felt connected with myself and my husband.
It’s a paradox I know. Living on top of each other, barely leaving home, seeing each other what feels like every moment of every day, I mean you don’t get closer than that, and yet I had felt disconnected.
We are now floating in level 2 lockdown, with level one moments away. Ja, I will admit it’s better than levels 5,4 and 3…and one must be grateful…but bring on the vaccine I say.
July 2021 Update.
We are back in lockdown, the teenagers a year older, and a lifetime more frustrated… as are the parents. My vaccine was postponed due to the unrest in Gauteng and KZN. I learn the true meaning of groundhog day. May your force be with you.
