Three writers reveal the truth about late their life libidos

Sex after 70. It’s happening — and much more frequently than you may have imagined. 

A new study has revealed that one in seven of those aged 80 to 84 still enjoy an active sex life, while 36 per cent of the over 70s say their libido hasn’t disappeared at all. 

Here three women — all in their eighth or ninth decade — offer a candid view of what really goes on behind their bedroom doors…

I still feel desire and long for a good man in my life

ELAINE KINGETT, 74

The mother of three is single, lives in Brighton and runs life-writing holidays in Spain (write-it-down.co.uk/spain).

Brighton-based Elaine Kingett, 74, (pictured) still desires physical closeness, intimate contact and the warmth of a man 

A new study has revealed that one in seven of those aged 80 to 84 still enjoy an active sex life, while 36 per cent of the over 70s say their libido hasn’t disappeared at all

According to a recent UK study, more than a third of men and women in the 70+ age group say their desire and libido has not diminished with age. How reassuring — I had been beginning to think, at 74, that it was only me. Mine has never left the building.

For 32 years, from the tender age of 17, I had a loving, fun and satisfying relationship with my husband, until he died at 53. 

We always fancied each other, shared hopes, dreams, adventures and, of course, arguments, but we never reached the dreaded state of disillusionment and disappointment that I’ve witnessed in some other long-term relationships.

I was very lucky that the painful reality — due to diminishing hormones after the menopause which, understandably, puts so many women off sexual intercourse — never happened to me.

I took HRT from the age of 50 to 60, and my creative imagination and vibrator satisfied my single status. My gynaecologist was insistent that, whenever I didn’t have a partner, ‘You should use it or lose it, madam!’

The term ‘libido’, from the Latin for desire and lust, was first employed by neurologist Sigmund Freud in 1894.

Desire is a much better description for what I continue to feel. Desire for physical closeness, intimate contact, an urge for the warmth of a man, skin to skin. I miss a good man in my life. I miss their different energy. I miss the scent of a man.

Lust is too fierce a word. Making love is what it’s all about; having sex sounds like a cold, calculated act carried out between two emotionally uninvolved individuals, without even a cup of tea afterwards.

For Elaine, an intimate relationship with a man she loves, trusts and respects is an integral part of life; something fun, rewarding and reassuring

Of course, one’s libido can be adversely affected by so many factors — not just ageing, but biological, psychological and social elements, too.

Add to that the side-effects — only now beginning to be widely understood — of SSRI anti-depressants, such as escitalopram and sertraline, which can cause a drop in libido and an inability to feel any sexual sensations at all. It’s a wonder any of us ever feel sexy, even with Viagra to help us along!

Despite having had breast cancer, a heart attack, three big babies, osteoarthritis, hearing aids, glasses and a face that owes far too much to sunbathing on the beach in my younger days — covered in baby oil while smoking a fag — I still fancy my chances of meeting someone.

I am so grateful to be alive and know from experience that life can be shockingly short.

For me, an intimate relationship with a man I love, trust and respect is an integral part of life; something fun, rewarding and reassuring.

I have great friends and family, and work that I adore, but sex, intimacy and, yes, companionship are the icing on the cake.

My recent relationship, which ended a few weeks ago, served only to confirm everything I’ve always believed but was beginning to doubt, after a hiatus of eight years. 

Sex at 74 can be just as delightful and life-affirming as it was at 50 or 60, and I don’t want to depart this earth without ever experiencing that euphoria again.

Falling in love is the same if you’re 17 or 70

PRUE LEITH, 84

The television presenter and cookery writer is a mother of two and lives in the Cotswolds with her second husband.

Prue Leith, 84, (pictured), who lives in the Cotswolds, wonders why falling in love isn’t an acceptable, even usual, option for older women

Why is it, do you think, that we find octogenarians kissing seriously embarrassing? When tiny children kiss we think it’s cute; when glamorous grown-ups do it, we find it a turn-on. But geriatrics? Oh, no, that’s disgusting

My generation of women (I was born during World War II) was the first, I think, to be generally allowed to behave like men. To go to university, have a career, and admit to the joy of sex. And, once the Pill arrived in the 1960s, to indulge in it without the spectre of pregnancy casting a cloud.

But now, in old age, those women are expected to get back in their box, wear boring greige and, if not actually sit in a corner and knit, at least behave with genteel decorum. Well, no thank you.

This blanking-out of the old happens more to women than men. By and large, society accepts male octogenarians pulling younger women. 

I suppose women should be grateful that infertility comes so much sooner to us. Bearing and rearing children is unbelievably exhausting.

But the end of our fertile years doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy love and sex. Why isn’t falling in love an acceptable, even usual, option for older women?

Because I married for the second time in my mid-70s (and probably because I wear lots of vulgar colour), I’m considered something of a marvel, if not a freak.

But ask anyone over 60 and in love what it feels like, and they will tell you that, whether you are 17 or 70, the symptoms are the same: banging heart; willing your phone to ring; flooding joy when it does; rewriting that text ten times and not sending it.

She believes that no matter what age you are, falling in love feels the same: banging heart and willing your phone to ring

There is nothing like being in love: the way it colours your whole life, making a rainy day a delight, a disgusting pub meal a joke, a bad film a treasured shared experience.

It gives you a reason to live, and I think that many women miss out unnecessarily.

My advice would be to forget the rules and obey your instinct. If you want that sleek old boy with the nice crooked smile to notice you, then make yourself noticeable.

If you are too shy to make a move in person, then slip him a note. What have you got to lose?

The older men I meet don’t ignite a spark

LIZ HODGKINSON, 80

The writer is divorced from the father of her two sons and lives in Oxford.

I am genuinely pleased for all those couples in their eighth and ninth decades whose libidos are still soaring.

Sadly, mine is not. In order to enjoy an active sex life in your later years, you need the right partner. If, like me, you are single, libido tends to take a swift downward dive, if it does not disappear altogether.

Sex? What’s that? To me, it’s just a dim memory.

Liz Hodgkinson, 80, believes her libido has taken a dive because she hasn’t found the right partner 

I’m a perfectly healthy older woman of 80 who is not yet bent double, shuffling around on a Zimmer frame and rattling with prescription pills.

I’m lively and active, I go to the gym, take long walks and definitely have a spring in my step.

I embrace social media — and I’m certainly ready and willing for some new adventures.

This shouldn’t be surprising, 비아그라퀵배송 because my generation is, after all, the longest-lived and healthiest elderly generation in history.

So, it would be lovely if I could add sex back in to the joys of my life. But where, oh where, might I find that special someone? It’s not for want of trying.

Since my very attractive and charismatic last partner died 20 years ago, I have been on so many dates and, even now, am sometimes propositioned in the street by blokes asking if I would like to go for a drink. But sad to say, not one of them has ignited the merest spark, mentally or physically.

There was no quickening in the loins or anywhere else and, after one dismal date, that was it. It was hopeless, and I quit the dating scene for good four years ago.

The older men I met were just not interesting enough to enthral me, and with the younger ones, there was nothing in common.

Yet, Liz remains hopeful that there could still be a Mr Right out there for her

But it may not be too late. Just the other day, a neighbour told me that her 82-year-old mother had fallen in love after several years of widowhood.

‘She was so lonely,’ my neighbour said, ‘and then my daughter introduced her to a chap she thought might suit Mum.

‘Well, there was instant mutual attraction, and they are blissfully happy together. Mum now has a complete new lease of life.’

So, before I fall into decrepitude and forget I ever had a libido, could there still be a Mr Right out there for me? Stranger things have happened.

BrightonMenopauseSpainPrue Leith