by S’ola Filani

Maria-Louise Warne, from Tiverton, Devon, spent the prime years of her life in two sexless marriages.

She was married to her first husband John from the age of 18 to her mid-twenties but they never consummated their marriage.

He was a Catholic who thought sex was only for procreating.

She later met her second husband, Carol, who left his wife and daughters for her but he kept making excuses to avoid intimacy, even after they got married. They separated in 2008

She finally lost her virginity after finding love again at the age of 51.

Maria told MailOnline:

My first marriage lasted from the age of 18 until I was in my mid-20s. My relationship with my second husband, Carol, began when I was 25, we wedded when I was 38 and remained married for 13 years.

So, yes, I was still a virgin at the grand old age of 51 – the prime years of my life spent without ever knowing the intimacy and wonder of becoming one with a man.

So how did this come to be? Maria continues:

When I look back now, I wonder if my mother’s dysfunctional attitude to intimacy skewed my understanding of relationships. As an adolescent she told me sex was to be endured, not enjoyed.

At night I’d overhear my parents arguing in their bedroom. My father Phillip craved affection, but my mother Irene would threaten: ‘If you don’t leave me alone, I’ll go to the spare room.’ It left me believing sex was a chore, rather than an act of love.

Maria finally lost her virginity to a doctor, Tim:

I invited Tim to dinner and when he kissed me goodbye I felt as if cartoon stars were circling round  my head. I was 51 but giddy as  a teenager. It was two months before Tim invited me to his house for dinner – by which time his estranged wife had left – and I knew my life was about to change.

He kissed me that night with a passion I’d never experienced. I guessed it was a prelude to making love. I knew, too, I had to be honest.

‘There’s something you ought to know,’ I said. I took a deep breath before adding: ‘I’ve never had sex.’

Tim’s jaw practically hit the floor. ‘But you’ve been married!’ he said – and the whole story spilled out.

That night, for the first time in my life, I enjoyed passionate, satisfying sex. I was 51 years old and, finally, no longer a virgin. For the following five years I made up for lost time. Tim and I would make love for six hours at a stretch: after half a century of famine, suddenly there was a feast.

We made love on the stairs, on the floor, on the sofa. For the first time I enjoyed true intimacy. It was fun, an expression of love. The contrast with my previous, sexless life could not have been more marked.