Tuesday, March 02, 2010
Frank Muses About Sex
When you get to be my age, the years whiz by like cars on the expressway.
Angela and I still have a happy, regular sex life. When we first met, we would rut like bunnies. At every opportunity, we would fool around with considerable gusto. If more than two days passed without us having intercourse, it felt like we hadn't touched each other in ages. I've always felt like that hasn't changed. I never was the kind of person who was satisfied with the obligatory once-a-week boink. Despite children, work, volunteering, sickness, and injury, we are never hesitant to get naked with each other and do so as often as possible.
So, the other day, whilst laying in bed watching the last part of the Olympic closing ceremonies, Angela and I thought that a little kanoodle was in order. I remarked to Angela that I was most pleased with how often we engaged in our marital relations.
My dear wife chuckled. "How often do you think we have sex?" she asked with a smile.
"Oh," replied I, "two, maybe three times a week." Angela chuckled again, at least until I did something that elicited something more carnal than a chuckle.
When we finished our little romp, Angela posed the question again, and suggested that, to get a clearer picture, we try to remember how many times we had copulated in 2010. I don't wish to brag, but our lovemaking tends to be fairly memorable, so the chore was not that difficult. I had procured a pen and paper to keep track of the count.
When we felt like we had included each time, I tallied up the total and determined that the number of times that Angela and I have had sex in 2010 was:
Or ... about once a week.
And it seemed like we had our last roll in the day just a day or two before.
I guess that two days just isn't like it used to be when we were younger.
After concluding our analysis, I had a question for my darling wife.
"My dear, shall we go for number ten?"
Her smile was answer enough for me.