One of the best things I have done to improve the sex we have, far beyond vibrators and paddles and underwear or even that harness that ties me up, is to put a lock on the inside of our bedroom door. Sex is also the opposite of motherhood. Although I want the mess, the reality is terrifying. By the time Lester, is eight months old, Pete and I are in danger of seeing one another only as caregivers, of failing to even see one another at all. There is an acute novelty in not being needed for caring, instead doing something purely for pleasure. We spilled out of the house Jimmy, Dolly and I had been living in when I met Pete, into the countryside, where there was space for us all.
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