Married Couple Had Sex Every Single Day For A Year, While I Hope To Have Sex Once This Year

Sex everyday sounds awesome. In theory. But anyone in a long-term relationship will tell you that sex with one person can lose it’s once irresistible appeal due to overexposure and mutual life responsibilities. And you constantly farting in bed after Mexican night, completely ignoring your body’s rejection of lactose, probably doesn’t help the intimacy cause.

I know Brittany Gibbons knows what I’m talking about. Brittany and her husband, Andy had been far from nymphos after the birth of their child seven years ago. Brittany, self-admittedly horrible at intimacy, revealed in her piece for the Huffington Post, that she used to use her child as a cock-block to avoid sex.

The intimacy problem was highlighted when Brittany sent and email to her husband back in 2012:

May 22nd, 2012
to: from:
Hey, could you list 5 things you love about my body?

to: from:
Butt hair face lips cleavage.

to: from:
Whoa, slow down Casanova, I’m about to end up pregnant, don’t get so descriptive.

to: from:
Well to be honest, I haven’t seen you totally naked in years.

Andy, sounds like you are just looking at a human body and just naming features. Hair, face, butt, lamp.

This lackluster exchange prompted Brittany to present her husband with the idea of having sex every day for a year, barring any medical or logistical problems. She feared that Andy was losing interest in her because of her own insecurities with her body, which was a huge reason she avoided sex to begin with. Andy has a penis, so he was like “ya, sounds good.”

Brittany admitted that at first, daily sex seemed like a chore. But eventually, the sex became the most peaceful part of Brittany’s day, opening up lines of communication with her husband that were absent before.

Brittany’s revelations of the education she received from 365 days of boning is detailed in the below excerpt, via Huffington Post:

It’s not you, it’s me. Stop being weird about it.

So I disliked my stomach. My thighs. How I looked laying flat on my back. A myriad of irrational things, really, and I’d have the same conversation with Andy about it, telling him I’m self conscious and I just don’t feel sexy, and then he’d spend 10 minutes telling me how gorgeous I am, and then another 30 minutes pouting and being hurt that it wasn’t enough to make me change my mind. So on top of feeling insecure, I felt like a jerk. That needed to stop. I needed to explain to him that him seeing me that way is great, but unless I saw it too, it didn’t count. I mean, at least if he expected me to be an active participant and not just a hole laying on the mattress. It took a lot of talking to make him realize that me not feeling sexy was not an attack on him, and him being hurt about it only made me feel worse. I wanted to enjoy sex, too. And the key for me being able to enjoy it is feeling confident and gorgeous, and that was a me journey, not a him journey, though having a cheerleader on the sidelines was a plus.

We quickly learned, confident Brittany sex is way better.

Pretty panties make me happy.

It’s no secret that I love fashion and playing dress up, but I found that when I was at home in mom/wife/muggle/couch mode, I was opting for ease. And that’s fine. Seriously, I am not some bitch here telling you to wear heels to the grocery store or pants to school pick up when you aren’t even getting out of the car and it’s a total waste of clean pants. But one day I was getting dressed for an outside wedding shower in 90 degree heat, and decided to forgo shapewear for regular underwear, when I realized the only underwear I owned was either ratty maternity underwear or cheap 99 cent briefs I grabbed at the end of a Walmart aisle to get me through my period week. No wonder I didn’t feel sexy, I had the undergarments of an incontinent nursing home patient.

So I went to Cacique and stocked up on 5 for $25 panties. Some were plain and some were lacy, and when I wore them they looked so pretty across my hips. I’d even find myself walking from my closet to the bathroom wearing them, a stark contract to the primal run I did covered in a towel with my spanx shoved into a ball of clothes in my hands when I thought Andy wasn’t paying attention.

I went back to buy more underwear, and even some cute lingerie that I tried on in the store and sent photos of to Andy at work. Needless to say, he was excited, but it was more than that. The effort I put into wearing the cute panties, even if they were under a pair of jeans or sweat shorts, made me feel insanely gorgeous, and my brain needed that.

I am my own sex advocate.

I like being on my knees and I’m not an inside climaxer, I’m an outside climaxer. I do like oral sex, but I don’t like having my nipples touched, because they are numb. I also hate having breath on my neck because I am extremely ticklish, and then I get goosebumps and my leg hair grows in too fast. Please stop doing that.

All that? I had to work on being okay saying all that out loud, and get over the idea that I was being a selfish, demanding nympho. I deserve good sex as much as he does, and instead of waiting around for him to figure it out, which is totally unfair to guys by the way, I had to find my voice and use it.

Coincidentally, it was a major turn on. Who knew?

Now what, nympho?

We’re not hell-bent on doing it every day anymore, but we definitely make more of an effort, and it helped us be a lot more open with each other. I mean, if you have “ball shaving” as a monthly google calendar alert, it’s safe to say you’re comfortable talking about almost anything.

How about the follow up email a year later?

August 5th, 2013
to: from:
Alright man take two, five things you love about my body.

to: from:
Only 5? I’d pick the curve of your waist between your boobs and your butt, the spot on your wrist where you dab perfume, your hair when you take it down in the morning, the really soft skin between your boobs, and all the freckles on your arms and shoulders.

to: from:
Weird, those are my 5 favorite things, too. We have similar tastes in body parts, I should show you my freezer collection sometime.

Moral of the story: sometimes it’s not as much about working up to sex as it is sex working up to something else, something more profound. Cheers to Brittany and Andy. You’ve inspired me to masterbate every day for 365 days to become closer to myself. I’m already on pace in 2015.

[Via Huffington Post]

Matt Keohan Avatar
Matt’s love of writing was born during a sixth grade assembly when it was announced that his essay titled “Why Drugs Are Bad” had taken first prize in D.A.R.E.’s grade-wide contest. The anti-drug people gave him a $50 savings bond for his brave contribution to crime-fighting, and upon the bond’s maturity 10 years later, he used it to buy his very first bag of marijuana.