The Last Time I Had Sex: The Woman Who Trades Sex For Chores

Emma*, 38, is a beautician and lives in York.

There was a stunned silence around the table, my friends open-mouthed with what I assumed was a mixture of shock, disbelief and disapproval. So, what was the confession I’d just made, admittedly after several glasses of wine, which had left everyone so incredulous? That I withhold sex from my partner until he does his share of the household chores and DIY.

I jokingly call it ‘shags for sweeping’ – others call it ‘choreplay’ – but I’m totally serious when I say that, unless he’s pulled his weight at home, he’s not getting any. Call it unromantic, or mercenary. One friend even said it sounded a bit ‘abusive’. But I don’t care. It works.

We’ve been together for eight years and have a six-year-old son. When he was born, I gave up work to be a full-time mum, and because I was at home all day while Nathan* went out to work, I looked after the house. It was a traditional set-up but it worked for us. However, a year ago, when our little boy started school, I returned to work at a luxury hotel spa.

Overnight, the dynamic of our home life changed. Suddenly, we were both rushing out in the morning and not getting home until early evening, after one of us picked up our son from his grandmother’s house. With no time during the week to keep on top of household chores, I found myself spending Saturday cleaning, while Nathan stuck to his routine of a workout at the gym and gaming with our son.

Even though I was now working too, the responsibilities for our home still fell to me, and over time I grew more and more resentful about the status quo. I tried asking Nathan to help more, even shouting at him,which is really unlike me; we’re not a couple who argue. It would work briefly – he’d cut the grass or clean the windows – but within a week or two things would slip back to the old ways and I’d be in my Marigolds while he laid on the sofa. We’re saving for a bigger home and having a cleaner is a luxury we can’t afford right now.

Six months ago, I went to bed in such a bad mood with him that when he tried to initiate sex, I refused – probably for the first time in our relationship. I explained I was exhausted, cross he wouldn’t help me, and there was no chance of sex that night, before rolling over and ignoring him. I woke the next morning to a spotless bathroom, the drawer handle that had been loose for months fixed and a remorseful Nathan, who apologised for not pulling his weight before sheepishly asking, ‘Could we have sex tonight?’ And just like that, our bedroom barter economy was born.

He knows that if he helps, and I feel things are equal on the domestic front, there’s sex – the last time was about a week ago. And if he doesn’t, I’ll put on my passion-killer pyjamas and give him the cold shoulder. The way I see it, everyone’s a winner. We both get to enjoy sex, live in a nice, clean home and, because I feel things are fairer, I’m much happier instead of brimming over with resentment.

If you’d like to tell us about your last time – be it funny, uplifting, surprising or mundane – contact us at thelastime@graziamagazine.co.uk

*Names have been changed.

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