My Sexual Awakening at 70

I was packing up to move to a smaller place and took stock of what to sell, what to keep, what to give away.  And then I took stock of myself, and realized I hadn’t had sex in over a decade.  I was 69 years old.

I could have just said to myself, “You’re almost 70.  The best years of your life are behind you.  Why bother?”  But I didn’t, because I wanted to feel like a sexual woman again.

I never thought I would do any of the things I did, but I’m glad I did them.  What I did may not be for everyone, but it worked for me.

I had a painful past.  I came from parents who were contemporary, social and entertained often, and were successful business people.  But when it came to me, they were critical, judgmental, intimidating, and had some strange beliefs about life, love and sex.

Sex education for me consisted of my mother inviting me out to the patio to give me “the talk.”  It was a very clinical talk; there was no mention of joy, passion, love, affection, and all the time she spoke there were tears streaming down her face.  As I watched her cry, I started to cry.  I didn’t know why either of us was crying, and I never did find out.

When I was fourteen, my parents took me to a resort called Highland Springs, not too far from Palm Springs.  One night the resort had a party for teens, and I went.  I met a boy, sixteen, handsome.  We talked and danced and then he asked me if I’d like to take a walk.  I said, “Yes.”

We walked arm-in-arm out in the moonlight.  It was so romantic!  He led me to a chaise lounge and we began kissing.  I knew not to take it any further.  I was well indoctrinated.  I was just enjoying the moment.

Into this bliss came my father’s bellowing voice, “Lynn, get up!”  I got up and my parents sent the boy away.  I never heard from him again.

My parents dragged me back to the cabin as my mother said, “Only prostitutes enjoy sex.”  I said I wasn’t having sex, I wasn’t planning on having sex, but they wouldn’t listen and didn’t believe me.

These teachings inhibited me, even throughout my marriage.  My husband and I were soul mates, no question about it, but in the 15 years we were married, we never once discussed sex.  We either did it or didn’t do it, but I guess we left it up to chance as to whether it would be any good or not.  Not surprisingly, this plan didn’t have great results.  Nine years into our marriage, he got melanoma.  I lost him six years later.  I felt his loss intensely.

Writer Anais Nin said, “And the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”

I was determined to blossom!  The first thing I did was go to my therapist and ask him to change my medication on the chance that it was inhibiting my sex drive.  I was on Prozak.  He said he didn’t know if it would help or not because similar medicines had the same properties, but that we could try if I wanted to.  It was now or never.  I was ready for a change.  A big change.  I told him I wanted to, and lo and behold, I came alive!

Next, I had a general check-up with my urologist.  We had never exchanged a personal word, but she was friendly and warm, and as I was about to leave her office, I said, “It’s been a long time since I’ve had an orgasm.”

“Get a vibrator and some porn,” she said.

And, with trepidation, I did just what the doctor ordered.  I set out to take myself to a sex store, aptly named the Pleasure Chest, to buy porn and a vibrator.  Porn?  I had been totally against it my whole adult life.  I thought that if two people loved each other, they didn’t need porn.  I’ve since amended that belief!  And toys?  I just looked my nose down on them.

My heart was racing on my way over.

Once I arrived at the store and parked, I could not bring myself to get out of the car.  I conjured up all kinds of images about what the place looked like, none of them good.  I must have stayed there for at least ten minutes.  Then, finally, I edged over to the car door and opened it.  Once out of the car, I forced myself to take baby steps to get to the front door.

But once I entered, I found the place clean, the products laid out nicely and the staff friendly—but not too friendly.

A young woman helped me find a vibrator, then directed me to the porn section.  After I made my selection and paid, I took my little purchases home and tried them out, and I began having pleasure twice a day!  Beginning right after lunch.  My girlfriend called it “afternoon delight.”

After watching the porn tape for a while, I told my doctor I couldn’t keep going back to the sex store and buying more porn.  He said, “Well, there is free porn on the net.”  Wow!

After a period of time with that, my doctor mentioned that there were sex chat websites!  No way was I going to chat sex with a stranger.  But gradually, I opened my mind further, and pretty soon I joined a sex chat website, had phone sex, and read—and even wrote—erotic stories.

And then one day, after all of this, I met someone to whom I was attracted.  The sex was fantastic.  I felt my body finally enjoying what I was meant to enjoy, fully and completely.  It was exhilarating.  I was totally free to let myself go.

My fantasies exploded.  I used to think very narrowly, but now, I was open, and I felt fantastic about it! And to share these with a partner was even better.

Finally, the volume on the sexual messages my parents gave me died down, and when that happened, their emotional messages died down too.

I took a journey.  Sex at 70 is a great thing!  I’ve even had younger lovers. And why not? One man (he was 40!) invited me for lunch.  I turned him down numerous times, and then finally gave in.  The second I met him I was attracted to him, and he to me.

We met at a Mexican restaurant and had a margarita with lunch.  After we finished, he led me to his car.  He was the best kisser I have ever had, before or since.  If I had been resolved to say no, I would have missed that.

I’m looking forward to meeting my second soul mate and enjoying a raucous sex life.

Freedom is finally at hand.