Seniors Enjoy Sex after Sixty

Sex has always been good, but as seniors, we have it perfected. Or should I admit that retirement has given us a new lease on life — that after 43 years, no expectations hinder our passion, no time limits constrain our activities, no interruptions temper our enthusiasm, and no regrets plague our past or influence our future.

Youthful desires

In 1980, Randy and I met while cruising Main, a weekly activity to hang out with friends. Teens from many small towns gathered on Saturday nights. Randy was from Boise; I drove from Caldwell. His car, a 69 black SS Camaro, caught my eye on the first loop around the block. The second time around, we stopped and talked at a light where we agreed to meet at the Albertson’s parking lot. When he climbed out of the car, I realized he wasn’t so bad looking either.

After hanging out, talking, and driving around the loop a couple of times, he asked for my phone number. After I wrote it on a gum wrapper, I remember telling Randy that I would be getting up early the next morning for church. Subconsciously, I think I wanted to announce that I was a good Christian girl. If he called, I didn’t want him to have the wrong idea.

Though I was Lutheran, at 18, old fashion Catholic guilt ruled my existence. However, after a few dates, the physical desires of any normal youth surfaced. Randy, at 20, was bursting with male desire. After several months of exploration, an avalanche of emotions overcame rational sense. My desire complemented by his big eyes and pleading tone, he began to wear me down. We made an appointment at Planned Parenthood to investigate birth control, which we attended together.

Old fashion misconceptions

I was under the illusion that a lady doesn’t enjoy sex or at least doesn’t let anyone know she does. So, our encounters were stolen moments in uncomfortable places. Sharing passion in the bucket seats of his car, sometimes on top of the gear shifter, which left an unforgettable memory and at times a physical mark.

Thanks to the pill, we didn’t need a shotgun wedding, but my guilt coupled with our physical yearning led us to the altar one year later, 1981, when we were married. I was 19; he was 21.

Surviving a routine

Anyone who remembers young love can fill in the blanks of the next few years. But when our first child was born, we both were too tired for frequent, casual sex. We planned around feeding schedules, babysitters, ear infections, and our physical need for sleep.

In the nineties, planning became even more imperative because our two daughters could talk, walk, and ask questions. We now laugh about some of our frustrating experiences.

As he rubbed my back, I reached up to explore his face and pulled him down into a passionate kiss.

“Mom, I need a drink of water!”

“I’ll get it and be right back.” Before exiting the room, I looked back to see Randy reclined on the bed with a look that reminded me of years earlier when sex was out of reach.

Upon my return, he was naked and happy to see me.

“Mom, Katie won’t stop talking.” It was time to use my Mom voice, “Go to sleep. I don’t want to hear from you again tonight!” Quiet resumed as did our intimacy.

Thank goodness for blankets because moments later the ominous feeling of someone hovering nearby, rushed down my spine, “Katie, dear, what do you need?” I always added the “dear” to cover my agitation and remind me I really did love my precious little girl.

Randy said, “I will put her back to bed,” as he covered what needed covering and escorted her down the hall. When he returned, he shut the door. It had no lock until the next day, so he picked one end of the large, 9 drawer dresser and pulled it to block the entrance. Then he turned on the radio, flashed a smile, removed his covering and reminded me where we left off.

Sex became a habit

As the kids grew, so did the responsibilities: school homework, soccer tournaments, school activities, and a second job to pay for the fun. Constantly surrounded by family, sexual encounters became afterthoughts smuggled between events or late at night when the kids slept.

That’s not to say intimacy was missing from our marriage because our passion still ran strong. However, we approached private moments like late night cravings. When our sweet tooths longed to be satisfied, we smuggled our temptation into secluded zones where we fulfilled our hunger and then fell asleep exhausted with the sweet taste of satisfaction.

Retired, free, and experimenting

Flash forward to 2024. We are retired, empty nesters who have time and energy on our hands. I once thought sex was reserved for youth. I can’t imagine my grandma having sex. In fact, until I turned sixty, I never thought about it. However, if she could chop wood, garden, can vegetables, and paint her house, all things she accomplished later in life, I imagine she made love. Wow!

I also never once thought that my parents had an active sex life until my brother shared an experience when he walked in and found them sharing the recliner in a compromising position. Mom and Grandma are the women who instilled the archaic ideas about sex and womanhood. Come to think of it, they never said anything bad about sex; they simply warned that a woman doesn’t kiss and tell.

I figure old people are supposed to participate in sex. Think about it.

• An aged body has difficulty bending and twisting. That must be why the hair on our legs stops or slows sprouting new growth. If I don’t have to shave my legs, why not have sex.
• Old minds forget what just happened. I wonder about people who spend money on medication to remember. I figure if we can’t remember the last time we were intimate, it must be time to do it again.
• Women are no longer visited monthly by Aunt Flo, so several more unobstructed days are available to fulfill desires.
• Children move away and leave behind an empty house with empty rooms that need to be used.
• With age comes aches and pains that keep us awake. Since we are awake anyway, sex provides an alternative to counting sheep.
• In the middle of the afternoon, our bodies are tired, so we take frequent naps. Might as well take the opportunity for a happy ending.

Now, I am present to tell everyone that we kiss (and so much more). At an elderly age, Randy and I have discovered a whole new lease on life. We are the torchbearers of a new era. Retirement is a time to break from the old patterns and explore opportunities. We did and love the outcome.