LYING back on the pillows post-sex, I hug my husband tightly.
I love him to pieces and never want him to know that I’ve just faked my orgasm.
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It’s not a When Harry Met Sally-style performance, screaming and banging the headboard — just a question of catching my breath and moaning in the right places.
It’s something I’ve done ever since I’ve been with him.
Like the millions of women who fake it, I don’t want to hurt his feelings by admitting it’s not hitting the spot.
And after 25 years of sex that’s never really been better than “nice” or “pleasant”, it would be too difficult to broach it now.
It would be horrible for him to hear and would rock the foundations of our marriage.
It would make him feel inadequate and question whether I have lied about anything else. I haven’t.
And I don’t think there’s anything Simon could do to make it work.
It’s not as if I’m crying out for something kinky like bondage to tip me over the edge. I think our bodies just don’t match.
I know it is not because I’m incapable of orgasms.
I’ve had plenty of “rip your clothes off” sex in my time and know the dizzying heights I can reach.
After 25 years of sex that’s never really been better than ‘nice’ or ‘pleasant,’ it would be too difficult to broach it now.
When I met Simon I was in my second year at university in Leeds and we were in the pub.
He knew people on my sociology course and we got chatting.
I had a few beers and we started snogging so I invited him back to my room.
Interestingly we didn’t have sex that night.
We lay in bed chatting instead.
I went away liking him enormously — he’s a great person.
We arranged to meet up the following week and it continued from there. We had sex on our third meeting and it was . . . fine.
Drunk one-night stands
I wasn’t hugely experienced, he was only my second lover and I hadn’t orgasmed with my first boyfriend either.
Simon turned me on, and I enjoyed it so I presumed climaxing would come with time and there were occasions when I tried to convince myself that I had.
Aside from the sex, we developed an amazing relationship — he’s a lovely man, kind and considerate and endlessly supportive.
Early on I felt this was the man I would spend my life with, and even now I know we have one of the happiest marriages imaginable.
Having said that, we did split up shortly after we finished our degrees.
At times I look back and wish I’d said something, but it wasn’t like his technique was off. We just didn’t have that all-important phwoar factor.
I was going to teacher training college in London and he was on a work placement elsewhere and wanted to be free.
Though I was upset, we agreed to remain friends.
In the following three years I slept with seven people.
Two left me cold — they were drunk one-night stands that I regret.
One was a fling with an older man where the sex was good.
Four were friends of friends who I ended up having relationships with.
It was with the second of them that I finally had an orgasm and understood what it was all about.
I realised that the twinge I’d felt with Simon wasn’t close to the breathtaking orgasm I could have.
The relationship didn’t work but the sex was phenomenal. And it was like that with my next two relationships too.
When Simon came home after two years, we started seeing each other sporadically as friends.
Occasionally we’d get drunk and end up in bed together.
I was 25 when I got back together with Simon properly.
He was then, and still is, the man I picture getting old with. It sounds odd, but I don’t think I really contemplated the sex part — it wasn’t high on my list of priorities.
We laughed and I loved him.
Not actually having an orgasm didn’t worry me — I thought it was just a matter of time.
At times I look back and wish I’d said something, but it wasn’t like his technique was off.
We just didn’t have that all-important phwoar factor.
So in a way it would be pointless. And I never felt as though I was settling, I was completely sure that I wanted to be married to him.
We wed in 2008 when I was 27, and went on honeymoon to Italy and, like all newlyweds, we were at it like rabbits.
Yet still an orgasm eluded me.
I fell pregnant a month later and we now have two sons, aged 15 and 13. The early years passed in a haze.
We still had sex but not very often.
And I always pretended I loved it more than I did.
He occasionally asks if I’m satisfied or whether he can finish and I will always reassure him that I’m there.
To be honest, sometimes I’m glad that it’s over.
I’ve tried to spice things up a bit.
I’m not one for toys but I bought some lacy underwear in the hope it would make us more passionate and lead to satisfaction.
The last time I did that was about five years ago — it never helped.
Lacy underwear
And now we rarely make love at all.
The last time was nearly two years ago. I don’t miss it.
We do talk about it occasionally and say we should do it more often, but then we just roll over and sleep.
I do wonder sometimes if it’s the same for him — he does orgasm but I’m not sure it’s incredible for him — more a reaction to the mechanics of it.
It’s different for men.
The other day a girlfriend was laughing that she’d had a phenomenal quickie with her husband in their lunch break at home… it was a shock and made me think.
I remember with previous lovers, lying there breathless, sweaty and sated and not being able to talk.
It’s never been like that for either of us.
Ironically, one of the reasons I’ll never tell him that I fake it is because I know how hurt I’d be to hear the same thing from him.
Sometimes I look back wistfully on the passionate encounters I’ve had.
The other day a girlfriend was laughing that she’d had a phenomenal quickie with her husband in their lunch break at home.
I don’t generally talk about sex with my friends but I’d presumed they were all the same as me and had a take-it-or-leave-it attitude.
So it was a shock and made me think.
And I do worry that I’ll feel differently once the children have left home and we aren’t so busy.
Maybe then I’ll long for passion in my life and it will ruin everything. I hope I don’t as I adore my husband.
Out of all our friends I think we’ve got one of the most successful marriages.
We rarely argue, we’re on the same page with the way we bring up our children, he’s loving and giving.
We think the same about most things.
Read more on the Scottish Sun
Equally I hope he doesn’t go searching for more exciting and fulfilling sex.
He’s the most wonderful man alive, and missing out on orgasms is a small price to pay for being with him.
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