It's eight thirty on Friday morning as I write, and just twelve hours ago I was enjoying a vigorous sexual encounter with my husband.

Over dinner, we realised it had been three weeks, and made for the shower and the toothbrushes at once.

We took our time, gently building pleasure with our hands and mouths. My hands stroked, tickled and massaged his naked body, and his mine. We kissed away the frustration of the drought.

We changed position four times, and I came after forty minutes.

I doubt you enjoyed this chapter of my autobiography as much as I did.