Is it not always the way that when we have sex on tap the desire can at times wane…well not wane so much but as the well isn’t going dry any time soon you don’t rush to fill your bucket up at every opportunity – so to speak. However when there’s a hint of the well drying up or access being restricted for a time the thirst begins.

And so to the 21st Century family of broken homes and fighting for access to children. In our particular case we get access to my new husband’s eldest son on school holidays – this meant for August we had the joy of having him for a full ten nights.

Being 14, the boy is an abundance of testosterone and mood swings. For the most part he’s a complete delight but in the last twelve months he’s gone from being a little brother to an inquisitive teen that spends the majority of his time trying to grab hold of my tits, looking for a cuddle on the bed which tends to end up with his head nuzzling my bosoms (perhaps because his stick thin, hard nosed mother barely has bee stings). He has also cottoned onto the fact that his father, with a girlfriend must be having constant sex and I’m bombarded with all kinds of questions from how often we do it, to the types of positions , to ‘hasn’t grandfather every walked in at an inopportune moment (we live with my father-in-law-, to ‘isn’t it weird looking at pictures of me on the wall when you and Dad are having sex?’ My husband has always told me to answer any questions with an honest response but it’s a delicate balance.

One thing his ever thoughtful son is keen to offer us is ‘sexy time’ (as he calls it). Whenever me and the fellow start bickering his son will pipe up with ‘is it because you haven’t had sex in four days?’ Whilst this immediately diffuses the situation I sometimes think there is a grain of truth in it. We do however decline the offer for sexy time – which might be mean because perhaps he’s hoping for a wank in the shower while we get our end away.

Being scared of his grandfather’s house we all share a room together, which is sweet and certainly fulfils my desire of being a family unit but does obstruct a couple with a seriously high sex drive. In fact the enforced abstinence tends to further fuel our sex drive.

Before everything kicked off with the horrid ex-wife last year we used to see his son one weekend a month. Clearly my rapport with his son and the time, energy and love I invest in the two of them together is a huge turn on. The first holiday we went on together, even with separate bedrooms, my then boyfriend was reluctant to have sex on the three week holiday in Australia – and this was with us having separate bedrooms – for fear of psychologically scarring his child if he found out. Fast forward a year later and we’re in a tiny cottage at the foot of the peaks all sharing the one bedroom and in a complete state of lust he demands sex the minute his son is in the shower – a shower I might with a door that doesn’t even close because the 300 year old cottage’s structure is moving. THEN suddenly it’s okay to be rammed mercilessly and quickly while an innocent is metres away having a quick wash.

For a lot of people a dry spell with sex may mean months, for us it’s more like 7 days. In fact if we got seven days without sex we pretty much book ourselves in for a family therapy session. So the truth is of late, with one stress or another we consider our sex life to be on a downward spiral having sec onl once a week. The one way we boost this is to ensure we have at least one drug fuelled sex marathon a month – this consists of at least a sixteen hour sex session including all sorts of depravity which keeps the sex resentment at bay.

But when you have a ten day sex ban as a result of circumstances it’s a different kettle of fish. It is inappropriate to as a guardian or parent to prioritise sex over spending time with your child. But then we aren’t the most appropriate guardian and parent in the world. I suspect we broke a few boundaries when his son found our ‘slut’ paddle, which when spanked correctly will leave the word slut emblazoned upon your buttock. Then there was there was the time the top cupboard door flew open to reveal an open top box with a rather large protruding glass dildo exposed to the naked eye. These few ‘findings’ obviously got the cogs in the teenager’s head rotating and connecting the fact that these devices meant dad is having regular sex.

To top it all off, on his most recent visit he was intent on trying to throw unwanted celebration chocolates (who doesn’t like snickers? – what a waste) from the bedroom window into a flower pot in the back yard and in his peripheral vision caught sight of an 8inch slim pink object hidden behind some books. He whisked it out and asked if it was a dildo. I had no choice but to explain it was a vibrator. Bizarrely enough he refused to believe me. He then stumbled on a 5 inch very slim ‘wand’ – which I explained was also a vibrator. He still refused to believe me until I actually turned them on to prove what the devices were. Things took a turn for the worse when his father explained to him how best to test the quality of the vibrator by putting it against the tip of your nose to feel how strong the vibrations actually were. The child insisted on doing this.

Generally speaking our toy box is always cleaned at the end of a night with soap and water and TCP, but because the vibrators are used so regularly and only by us they do not get cleaned, so seeing a 14 year old man handle these instruments was a bit perturbing. More so later when he discussed with me their usage claiming I inserted them. I was then left with the rather unenviable task of explaining I use the vibrator for clitoral stimulation – I decided not to divulge the fact that his father’s preference for the ‘wand’ was to have it on the under shaft near the head of the penis while being massaged. I then had to give a very quick sex lesson on the clitoris and what positions using the vibrator would aid.

After a formal interrogation as to whether I give blow jobs and the quality of them he lost interest in them, which alleviated a lot of discomfort and certainly the teens pending sexual tension.

We on the other hand had another three sexless nights upon us and I knew my partner was beginning to grow restless as each evening his hand found mine and firmly guided it to his rock hard cock. With his son gently snoring I would hold it firmly and occasionally move my hand up and down it until my hubby’s loud snoring was in tandem with his son’s, but one particular night hubby did not fall asleep or start snoring – rather his hand reached behind him trying to find entry into my pyjama bottoms and groping to rub my clit. I thought this was going to lead to a mutual masturbation session. We’d done this a couple of times before as it was easy to perform unnoticed as his son was a heavy sleeper, but a wank was not going to satisfy his appetite that evening. After a few minutes he was whispering for me to go downstairs.

It’s been a while since we’ve done it in a forbidden are at a forbidden time but there was something quite sexy about grabbing the pink vibrator and purple wand and heading downstairs in the dark. Sneaking silently into the front room, turning the light on and looking round to see my husband’s hard cock protruding from his black Calvin boxers. I dropped to my knees to suck it, but he was already frantically pushing me off and insisting I get on all fours – as I did he was pulling down my pyjama bottoms and without warning plunging into my c*nt. Because it had been a while his forced entrance made me feel stretched and a little pained as it was driving into an area not completely lubed. It wasn’t long before I became juicy and scrambled for the vibrator so that I could come on his cock as he thrust into me. Normal vanilla sex would be him fucking me till I come and then me sucking him and using the vibrating wand until he came. As I began the dirty talk asking for permission to cum, could I cum on his cock and where he was going to ejaculate on me he was already going deeper. So deep, he was simulating my g-spot and the pleasure and pain of taking such a monstrous cock made it difficult for me to even get the words out. It made no difference because without much warning he began jerking inside me and I could feel almost two weeks of sperm pumping into me. So much so it was literally squirting out of me as he finished himself off. He stayed inside me as my c*nt began to grip his cock as I came and then it was literally a ‘come on, we need to get upstairs before anyone notices.’

Everyone was going to notice I had cum all over my thighs and that I reeked of sex and sperm. It was leaking out of me and onto my pyjama bottoms, the whiff of that by morning would quickly give the game away so I had no choice but to have a quick shower and throw my clothes in the wash and dig out fresh pyjamas. At least I had some security in the knowledge that 14 year old boys do not pay attention to what women wear. In fact I had a theory that at that age they were pretty self absorbed so you could get away with a fair amount of behaviour without them noticing or questioning it.

That is until the next day when the inevitable onslaught of sex talk began and we were teasing him about us having sex the previous night and he couldn’t quite determine whether we were serious or not, he confessed he knew we performed sex antics while he was in the room as he woke one night to me giving his father a blow job…or hand job. I can honestly say the blow job is not true, but the hand job…well there was definitely that time in Australia when we all shared a room and since then…

We need to rethink the ‘slight of hand antics’ for the forthcoming year or two me thinks.