Welcome to How I Do It, the series in which we give you a seven-day sneak peek into the sex life of a stranger.
This week we hear from Anna*, a 38-year-old straight writer living in LA. She’s been in a happy long-term relationship for three years and has sex with her boyfriend four times a week.
But when she and her boyfriend, Hunter*, first met, they faced an unexpected challenge in the bedroom.
‘He’s very well-endowed, a little over eight inches in size, which often made intercourse uncomfortable for me in the beginning,’ Anna explains.
‘We didn’t make a deliberate decision about how to navigate this, but over time, we found a rhythm that suits us perfectly — even though it’s slightly unconventional.’
The couple shifted their focus to oral sex, which they have four times a week, while penetrative sex happens about once a month.
Anna adds: ‘We tend to alternate — one night focusing on me, the next on him. It feels fulfilling and intimate.’
Without further ado, here’s how Anna got on this week…
The following sex diary is, as you might imagine, not safe for work.
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Monday
Every week day follows a standard routine for me: I get up early and head out for a 10km walk, go to Pilates at lunchtime and wind down with a book around 4pm.
I whip up dinner for Hunter this evening, it’s a comforting ritual that eases us into the days ahead.
It’s not long before we curl up together in bed. As the day winds down, we start to kiss. Soon he slides under the covers to focus on me.
I first met Hunter at a bar. I was immediately attracted to him, and within a few hours, we were going home together.
I’d had quite a few cocktails, so I was quite drunk, and I honestly can’t remember what my reaction to his penis was. But as we started dating, it soon became clear that it wouldn’t be comfortable for me to have regular penetrative sex with him. We never really discussed it, but we slowly fell into a pattern that worked for us both.
As we lay in bed, Hunter takes his time going down on me, his movements deliberate and skilled, until I’m utterly lost in the moment.
Hunter is particularly talented at giving oral sex, and I have to say, his pierced tongue plays a significant role in that. It’s hard to imagine anyone could match his talent.
When I finally come, it feels like the best way to end the day. I drift into blissful sleep in his arms, content and relaxed.
Tuesday
After a long and draining day at work, we both arrive home too exhausted to do anything other than chill out. We collapse onto the sofa, each with a glass of wine in hand, and queue up a film.
The low light of the screen casts a cosy glow over the room, and as we sink into the cushions, he wraps his arms around my shoulders.
We sit in comfortable silence, feeling the kind of ease that only comes from being with a man who truly feels like home.
When the credits roll, he stretches and announces he’s heading for a shower. I watch him walk away, appreciating the view — he has a great bum, and it’s definitely one of my favourite things about him.
Unable to resist, I follow him into the bathroom, and step into the bath. As we step under the hot spray, we lather each other up.
It starts as something playful but soon I drop to my knees, and before I can touch him he’s already moaning in expectation of what’s to come. I love giving him blow jobs. Only having oral sex doesn’t phase either of us, it’s all we both need to feel satisfied.
Wednesday
Hunter is naturally affectionate and loves slow, lazy mornings in bed — something that’s the complete opposite of my up-and-out-the-door routine.
I’m an early riser, and my morning run is a non-negotiable ritual that sets the tone for my day. He, however, would prefer to start every morning wrapped up together under the covers. Today is no exception.
As I’m lacing up my trainers, he calls my name, pleading for just ten more minutes of cuddling. I roll my eyes but can’t help smiling, and before I know it, I’m back in bed, his arms wrapped tightly around me.
We chat, sharing the kind of playful banter that I love. Eventually, I remind him that I really do need to leave, but not before he pulls me in for a lingering kiss or two, which makes it even harder to tear myself away.
That evening, the roles reverse as he takes charge in the kitchen. He loves to cook and always insists on making dinner whenever he has the time.
I act as his sous chef, pouring wine and chopping vegetables as we move effortlessly around each other.
We’re always touching in some way — a hand on a shoulder, a kiss on the cheek, fingers brushing as we pass utensils. After we eat, it’s an early night for us, and — curled up together — we quickly fall asleep.
Thursday
After a long day of work, we both arrive home exhausted and hungry. Neither of us has the energy to cook, so a takeaway feels like the perfect solution.
When it arrives, we set up camp on the sofa, balancing the cartons on our laps and diving in.
Between bites of spicy tuna rolls and tempura prawns, we take turns talking about our days. It’s not a grand or glamorous meal, but there’s something comforting about these easy, unguarded moments.
After dinner, we clean up and head to the bathroom to brush our teeth together. It’s a small ritual, but one I love — it’s intimate in its own quiet way.
He notices I seem a bit tense — I’m working on a big copy writing project which has a tight turnaround — so he offers to give me a foot massage before bed, a rare but welcome treat.
I grab the lavender massage oil I got for Christmas, and he warms it in his hands before working it into my feet with firm, soothing strokes. The combination of his touch and the calming scent of lavender is heavenly, and I feel the tension of the day melt away.
Once under the covers, he pulls me close, and we start kissing. The mood shifts, and soon he’s going down on me. One thing leads to another, and it’s safe to say I hit the jackpot tonight — a foot massage and an orgasm.
Friday
Friday nights are sacred for us — a standing date night that we both look forward to all week. This evening, we’ve decided on a cosy Italian restaurant just around the corner, which is where he took me on our first proper date.
We settle into our usual table and catch up on everything that’s happened during the week — work deadlines, funny anecdotes, and plans for the weekend. The conversation flows as easily as the prosecco, and it’s not long before we find ourselves on deeper topics.
Tonight, the subject of children comes up again. It’s a discussion we’ve had before, but never in a definitive way.
We weigh the pros and cons — the joy of building a family versus the challenges of parenting, the freedom we enjoy now versus the undeniable pull of imagining have a baby together.
Though we don’t come to any conclusions, talking about it feels significant, like we’re inching closer to clarity. As the meal winds down, we share a tiramisu before heading home.
We’re both feeling a little tipsy and pleasantly full. We cuddle in bed, and the seriousness of our earlier conversation fades. Within minutes, we’re both drifting off to sleep.
Saturday
Saturday mornings are slow and indulgent. I read while he catches up on sleep, and after a while, I head out and buy him a coffee and croissant.
I get back just as he’s waking up, and after he finishes his coffee, I go down on him, and then we spend the rest of the morning in bed — he snoozes while I finish my book.
In the afternoon, we go for a long walk, and that night, he cooks vodka a la pasta which we eat while watching Netflix. The washing up can wait until tomorrow.
We open the bottle of red, and a storm starts outside as soon as the film is finished, so we turn all the lights off and light candles instead — the perfect Saturday night.
I don’t mind that we haven’t had penetrative sex this week, once a month is plenty for me.
When we do have penetrative sex, it usually happens after Hunter has gone down on me. We keep it slow and gentle, sticking to missionary to avoid it being uncomfortable for me.
Sunday
I head out to yoga, and he’s still asleep when I get back. Looking at the kitchen, I regret having left the dishes for today, and spend the next thirty minutes scrubbing every crevice of the kitchen until it’s finally clean. Phew.
I curl up next to him in bed and soon fall asleep in his arms. We both wake up around eleven, and read the paper before making shaksuka for breakfast.
We spend the afternoon running errands—a weekly food shop, tidying the house, and putting a wash on.
It’s not the most romantic way to spend a day, but I enjoy the mundane parts of life together, as much as I do the special moments. From debating over which brand of coffee to buy to folding laundry side by side, it feels like a rhythm we’ve naturally fallen into.
We have a partnership built not just on grand gestures but on these ordinary tasks – and this is when I love him most.
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