I've noticed that most of the people here are on the younger side of their sexuality and their sex lives, but I know that some of you are,... shall we say,.. more life experienced? I was hoping for some opinions, preferably of the female persuasion, from some that may not be so young as to not fathom life’s middle years, and what they can entail. I’ve written the following for my wife; I believe it to be relatively self explanatory, so there’s no need for me to set it up; (I only hope that she never learns that I’ve shared this with anyone; that could prove to be most awkward). In any case, Ladies, I was hoping to get some feedback as to how you think I’ve done here, in terms of being both delicate, and yet clear. I thank you, in advance, for your honesty and consideration. Ok, here goes… Hello, sweetheart, I felt that I wanted to talk to you about some things and, well, while I know that we’ve always been able to openly talk, about pretty much anything, sometimes I still worry about upsetting you, or hurting your feelings. I can practice or rehearse how I want a conversation to go over and over in my head, but if I’m nervous…, well it could come out wrong, or my timing won’t be right, or I’ll offer my thoughts jumbled, and out of sequence. I don’t want to confuse things or hurt you in any way. Obviously, this is the farthest thing from my intention, and so that a conversation doesn’t get away from me, I thought that this may be one instance where I would make use of my gift of writing and get my thoughts to you, and in order. Now don’t worry, or get upset, this is nothing to worry or fret about, we’re fine. As a matter of fact, let me set this straight right now, from the beginning, and remind you that I love you most dearly. More and more with every passing moment, with every look into your eyes, and with every touch of your hand. I suppose you are probably aware of what this is about at this point, but just to clarify, yes it’s a bout sex. Or more specifically, our sex life. This is not intended as a complaint or a bitching session. Rather, just a method of getting my feelings known to you fully and completely, so that we can then have a proper constructive conversation. We take great pride in the fact that we’ve never had an argument, and I don’t wish to start one now. So please bear with me, let me express myself to you, the best way I know how, and then we’ll talk.. I understand that you have little to no sex drive, and I’m not saying that it’s your fault. I suppose that it’s just a fact of life. I’m very thankful that menopause has been very kind to you in every other way. And I’m certain that the pressures of life such as work, family responsibilities, bills, mortgages, and so on also play a factor. We’ve been together for a long time, not long enough yet by far, but we’re going on what, nearly twenty years now? And we weren’t exactly kids when we first got together either. In any case, the ‘new’ part of it is gone I suppose, and age isn’t helping either of us as well. I mean, all things considered, in terms of age, we’re doing ok generally. But, speaking for myself here, I’m older and not nearly in the greatest shape of my life, to say the least. Maybe this is all just a rut that we need to get through. Maybe you just don’t see me ‘that way’ anymore. Now I really dislike the old ‘I’m a man and a man has needs’ kind of talk, it really puts a bad taste in my mouth to even think it. It just seems such a cheap thing to say. Yet there is some truth to the statement I suppose. I’ve never even remotely been a macho kind of guy, you know that, but if the truth be told, whether I like it or not, it is the way I’m hard-wired. So yes, I get horny, sorry, I know it can seem crude, but there it is. I can get horny, frustrated, and irritable. But make no mistakes about this, I want you, I need you, I desire you, I love you. Ok, sure, getting myself off now and again can take the edge off, but it doesn’t quite satiate. I love you darling, with every fiber of my being, with my heart, my mind, my soul, and yes, my body. I love looking at you, and seeing you, now I’m not just talking about sexually, although there is that too, but I’m talking about the light in your eyes, your beautiful hair, and the promising curves of your body. I love talking with you, those deep conversations that we sometimes share, about our families, politics, religion, it doesn’t really matter. It’s a wonder to me how your mind works, every bit a match for mine, and if truth be told, more. And your laugh, my God, your laugh; all is right in the world when you laugh, there is no sun that can shine brighter or birds that can sing more beautifully for me when I hear your laugh. I practically live for those moments when I’m the one to bring such laughter from you. My heart feels as if it will nearly burst with pride and love. The touch of your hand in mine, is golden warmth, like warmed velvet, I lack the words to properly describe it. On those rare quiet occasions when we can just sit together, or go for a long walk together, your hand in mine is just,… well,… right. I desire you, I want you, I want to make love to you. I wish to express my love for you in this deepest and most intimate of ways. Whether it’s deeply emotional, some kind of a game, or a fun slap and tickle kind of romp. I need you. The real issue here though, and no musical pun here intended, but I want you to want me, I need you to need to need me, and I desire you to desire me. I know it may sound silly, but this is a big part of it for me now. I love you, and I truly feel everything that that means, I honestly hope that I’ve made that known, both in our day to day lives, and in this writing as well. I know that you feel the same way towards me; it’s evident in everything that you do. So again I say that there is nothing for you to worry about in that regard, we’re fine, we’re good, and yes, we are great. That having been said, and I truthfully feel like a complete heel for saying so, but I don’t feel special. This is probably the most difficult thing to put into words, but you make me feel special every time we’re together, or even when you give me a quick call during the work day. Looking into your eyes, the touch of your hand to mine, the smile on your face, and the sound of your laugh. These are all the greatest things that any man could want, and clearly more than a man like me can truly deserve. Yet, I still need to be desired. I’ve missed that part of our relationship. Immensely. I don’t ask this question callously, or lightly: Are you aware of how long it’s been since we’ve made love? I miss talking about sex with you, I miss sharing fantasies, or ideas, or interests with each other. Now I know that this type of ‘talk’ was never something that you seemed overly comfortable with or eagerly enjoyed as much as I, but we did share it, albeit cautiously. But now it seems to be completely and utterly taboo. Yet again, the talk is not nearly as important as the act, and that pales in compression to the actual desire. Perhaps this is the way things go, and if it is, then let’s discuss it, put this behind us, and enjoy the rest of our lives together. Because even if things don’t change, I’m the luckiest guy in the world to be blessed with a woman like you in my life, and I wouldn’t change that for anything. In the end, maybe I’m all talk here, maybe at my age I just won’t be able to deliver what my heart and body wants. Perhaps I still have that thirty year old’s mind and lust, but the body of a half of a century old man that won’t be able to deliver as I dream it can.