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The Guardian - UK
The Guardian - UK
Lifestyle
As told to Elena Angelides

This is how we do it: ‘Sex is less frequent since my accident, but we’ve discovered new tricks’

Illustration of man climbing up stockinged leg

Helen, 55

I remember marvelling at his big hands on my waist and how focused he was on my stockings

I was living with my elderly mum and neither of us could get the lid off a huge jar of gherkins. I took it to the garage next door and one of the electricians said: “I’ll open your gherkins for you.” I’d had my eye on him for a while. His van was parked outside my house, with his name and telephone number branded across the side. I plucked up the courage and texted: “Isn’t it about time we went on a date and stopped all this messing about?”

When it came to our first time, Liam booked a Travelodge. I was my mum’s carer so I couldn’t take him back to mine, and we thought a night away would be romantic. I was 45 and eight years out of a divorce. I wanted to feel attractive, so I bought high-waisted lingerie. I remember marvelling at his big hands on my waist and how focused he was on my stockings.

But I got a bit annoyed that night, because every time we paused, Liam would go and have a shower. I thought,“What’s wrong with me?” Now we’ve been together a decade I realise it’s because he’s a clean freak. I’d rather just keep going, but if we have sex a few times on the trot, Liam likes to wash in between.

Six months later, Liam moved in with me and my mum. We had to turn the volume down on our sex, but not the frequency. Mum didn’t have any mobility and couldn’t get up the stairs, and she was pretty deaf. We’d give her a Turkish delight and scurry upstairs.

We’d been together three years when our lives changed. Liam had a motorbike accident that left him on life support for 11 days. He survived but suffered a brain injury and lost most of his eyesight. We tried to make love, but it was challenging. The doctors prescribed him Viagra. We spent a lot of time being close to each other, lying in bed, just touching.

Our sex is more sporadic now. In hot weather I’m on top or on all fours, and it’s not too steamy. When it’s cold, it’s the “winter position”, under the covers. And we’ve discovered new tricks … On a trip to Crete, we bought a penis-shaped bottle opener, but we don’t use it to open bottles.

Liam, 57

I pulled her towards me for a kiss. After that, it was all a blur of clothes falling off

I was an auto electrician at a garage and Helen lived next door. When I was working on a car, she came over with this big jar of gherkins. She wanted a strong man to undo it. It’s possible she knew I was working, because she would have seen my parked van, but I’m not certain. She had blond hair. Nowadays it’s red. Total knockout. I unscrewed the lid like a big macho man.

Since my accident, it’s hard to recall every detail, but it’s impossible to forget the image of her the first time we had sex. She was wearing 1950s-style lingerie. I placed my hand on the nape of her neck and pulled her towards me for a kiss. After that, it was all a blur of clothes falling off. I prefer to wash in between sessions, but she thought I was shy and hiding in the bathroom.

Right up until my crash, we made love every day. The accident totally changed our sex life. I suffered brain damage, but I think a large part of it was losing most of my eyesight. I am a very visual person: I liked to see Helen in stockings, high heels, sexy lingerie, nice skirts. For a while I couldn’t get aroused. My neurologist even put us in touch with someone to get marriage counselling, but the issue wasn’t between us. I’d lost that sexual feeling altogether. I felt completely disconnected from my own body.

Seven years on, I get aroused and can perform again. On holiday in Crete, she wanted to do it all the time. I was worried that I couldn’t perform as frequently as she desired, and I didn’t want to upset her or to think that I no longer found her attractive. In the shops I spotted these penis-shaped bottle openers. I asked: “Do you fancy one?” It was a bit of a joke, but there’s a lot of truth spoken in jest.

Would you and your partner like to share the story, anonymously, of your sex life? Email sexlives@theguardian.com with a brief outline of what you get up to in the bedroom

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