66 year old goes on Tinder and Bumble.....anybody get in on this?

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“You could experience vaginal dryness,” my doctor warns, after telling me that, yes, I could indeed pass for 42 and that I must not forget to use protection. More and more people in my age range are getting STIs and worse. This alone makes me feel part of a vanguard of sexual vampires who refuse to die. Dryness is news to me. So, after a few misfires (one man didn’t even walk me out of the pub where we agreed to meet), a particularly attractive 24-year-old seems eager to come home with me. I go into hostess mode. I put out snacks. He’s not interested in the snacks. One thing leads to another and just when I’m sure bats will fly out of my derelict vagina, muscle memory kicks in. I remember doing this before the internet!

He feels amazing, seems pleased enough and I almost snog the life out of him. Afterwards, he sleeps in completely clobbered stillness and leaves the next morning like a gentleman. I’ve done it. I’ve broken my celibacy. But my parts have taken a hit.

At the walk-in clinic, I’m told I have a common ailment, BV – something men can give women but women can’t give men, sort of like diamonds or a mink coat only bad. Five incredibly strong tablets (“If you have alcohol with these, you will get an epileptic fit and I mean it,” says the doctor) and a dose of white paste and I’m back on the road. I must be OK.

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