AGE-GAP TRAP
I’m in an age-gap marriage – here’s why you should never marry an older man and why I’m planning affair No2
Listen to her full confession in the video above
JANET, 51, regrets settling down with older husband, John, 76, and tells Kirsten Jones why she is on the hunt for a new toyboy.
I’M in heaven watching my latest eye candy strip off to reveal his rippling six pack.
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Tall, dark and handsome, this dreamboat is all mine for the night.
I get lost tracing his perfect frame until a spluttering cough drags me back to reality.
It’s not a 40-something hunk standing before me.
It’s my 76-year-old husband John rotting in his stained armchair, picking the crumbs of a digestive from his wobbling dentures.
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My daydream has been ripped away like a sticky plaster.
It’s no wonder I’m desperate for my second sordid affair.
John stares into the distance, mouth agape as if catching flies as the cogs turn in his brain.
It’s the start of another day trapped in my age-gap marriage.
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This old man was once the love of my life.
Now he feeds on my energy and sucks out my soul.
I’m 28 and my husband’s 70 - trolls call me a golddigger & him ‘grandpa’, I was only 22 when we started dating
At 51 years old, I’m in the prime of my life.
My hair is shiny, I’m in great shape and even young lads turn their heads when they see me.
That’s why I’ve finally had enough of my sexless marriage.
When it comes down to it, I’m shallow.
If my husband paid attention to me and gave me the love I craved, it wouldn’t make a difference.
The attraction has well and truly disappeared, along with his youthful good looks.
It’s not as if he ever tries to touch me, anyway.
We haven’t had sex for eight years and, to be honest, I can’t be bothered to try and have sex with a man who, quite frankly, revolts me.
Besides, perimenopause made me dry up like a prune and I had absolutely no sex drive.
I didn’t mourn the death of our sex life, but I did mourn what could have been if, maybe, I’d married a younger man.
We grew further and further apart and now I find myself sharing a home with a man I barely look at.
Mind-blowing sex
We can go days without speaking and, as for fancying him, I’m afraid that spark’s long gone . . . with him anyway.
Nine months ago, I began HRT treatment to tackle my brain fog, hot flushes and terrible mood swings.
What I didn’t realise was my sex drive would come back like a steam train.
All I wanted was an encounter with a hot man who knew how to satisfy me.
No amount of increased libido was going to get me back into my husband’s bed.
Anyway, I’d probably have given him a heart attack, if he’d have been able to do the deed.
I had to do something about my insatiable desire, so I had an affair.
In March, I met a tall, dark and handsome man on Illicit Encounters, a website for those looking for a rendezvous — and had mind-blowing daytime sex with him in a hotel room, once a week, for four months.
His ripped 46-year-old body was a serious turn-on compared to the withered old man I had at home.
Living so close to my secret fling meant we could have speedy sex without arousing suspicion.
But sadly my affair died out — he was married, too, so it was never going to last — but I’m on the prowl for another prince among the frogs.
It hasn’t always been this way. I met my husband when I was 30 and he was 55.
Back then, he was in his prime. Well-built, slick-back hair, sparkling eyes. I felt like I was dating a film star.
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I used to think of us as like Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta-Jones.
He whisked me away on summer holidays to Madeira, Italy and the South of France where we would drink cocktails on the beach.
At home, he would surprise me with meals at fancy London restaurants and make me feel special doing silly little things like caressing my back while I did the washing up.
He was so much more mature than the childish guys I had dated before — and I was head over heels in love with him.
I thought we’d grow old together. We got married, had our amazing son, but that is where the magic died.
While Catherine and Michael have stood the test of time, our love has crumbled like my husband’s teeth.
Looking back, I don’t think we ever had anything in common.
It was all those fancy experiences with his money that kept us together. I was young, naive, foolish.
We got married in 2014, and two years in, the sex dried up completely and he suddenly morphed into an elderly stranger I didn’t recognise.
I have to leave the room when he eats because, since his teeth have crumbled, he sounds like a cow chomping on grass
I have to leave the room when he eats because, since his teeth have crumbled, he sounds like a cow chomping on grass
Janet
I despair as he pulls the same soup-stained polo shirt out of the laundry basket to wear for the tenth day in a row.
Is it really that much to ask to be able to watch some trash TV in my own living room without being interrupted by his disapproving tuts as he sucks another toffee?
He recently went up north to see his family and I couldn’t wait to get rid of him.
Four whole days without the golf blaring out of the TV speakers on maximum volume, no dirty hearing aids crumpled in used tissues around the living room.
Of course, I mothered him before he left.
He’s so old now I have to remind him to take his cocktail of medication and pack enough faded Y-fronts for a weekend trip.
I should be able to relax when he’s gone but he winds me up so much I’m like a coiled spring ready to shoot through the ceiling.
When I hugged him goodbye I felt nothing, just the knobbles of his ribs through his threadbare sweater.
What happened to my well-groomed gentleman — and who is this crusty old man who’s taken his place?
I cannot get him to change. His stubbornness is unrivalled, and despite being deaf as a post, he won’t admit it.
So I spend my days hollering the dinner menu at the top of my lungs when he asks for the umpteenth time, “What’s for dinner?”.
Prostate checks
He never asks how I’m feeling or if I’ve had a good day.
But he will blab on in great detail about how awful the weather is — when he doesn’t leave the house for weeks at a time.
He hates the ’80s pop music I play in the kitchen and calls it a “racket”.
He only watches black-and-white movies and has no idea what Traitors is.
Then there’s his health.
From countless hospital letters about blood pressure and prostate checks to his rattling pockets full of heart tablets — and, of course, his treasured bus pass — it’s a stark reminder of my husband’s ageing body.
I’m sick of having to do every little thing for him — it gives me the ick having to mother and fuss over an elderly man.
If you think an older man with money is going to take care of you, think again.
The tables turn and suddenly, you are a full-time nurse. You’re probably wondering why I am still with this old man.
Like so many other women, I am trapped in a marriage because I feel too guilty about upsetting our child if we split.
Sure, my teenage son would probably get over it. But what if he didn’t?
And I do enjoy the time we spend together as a family.
Surely it’s better for my husband to be with a younger woman who is happy but has a secret, than someone who is miserable.
I’ll be on HRT for the next five years or so, until I come out of the menopause.
I don’t know if I’ll lose my sex drive when I stop it, and I’ll be almost 60 by then.
No one wants to have sex with a wrinkly old lady, so I’m making the most of it while I can.
Marriage is happier if you have an affair. Those little outlets of passion and flirtation, sex and dating
Janet
Marriage is happier if you have an affair.
Those little outlets of passion and flirtation, sex and dating.
Any connection with another person makes you feel better about yourself, and easier to live with.
I suppose there are a few perks of staying with my elderly husband.
I have a very nice roof over my head. I have financial security, I have my wonderful son. But that’s where it ends.
How can I leave a frail old man on his own? What would people think of me? I feel trapped, with no way out.
Ladies, don’t be fooled by these age-gap celebrity couples.
You won’t marry a Hollywood stud who defies the barriers of ageing.
We mortals don’t have millions of pounds to smooth over the cracks.
They are selling the dream but the reality is a nightmare.
If you marry that old man and claim you are happy, you are only fooling yourself.
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Think about your future. Don’t make the same mistakes I did.
- Names have been changed
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