Lately, I have been wondering about the answer to this question. As someone who writes about sex, I get very little. And honestly, I cannot say I am missing it too much. I have plenty of energy for other things. For example, over the last forty-eight hours, I washed every dish in the house, including the crystal and the china, staged, prepped, and cooked an Italian dinner for ten (including making the pasta, and sauces). I made sure everyone had a good time, then cleaned it all up. I am just sitting down now to write this, and then I am off to take a shower before I get serious about the laundry, mop the floor, and decide what to do for dinner.
So really, who, needs sex?