How many sexual partners should I have had by the time I'm 50?

I never really thought of myself as a femme fatale. Or a man eater. Or, less flatteringly, that awful word – slut.

Samantha was my least favourite of the Sex and The City characters.

But I am 50 years old, and I’ve had close to 40 sexual partners. That’s way above the average for a woman my age – most of my contemporaries have had just 11, it turns out.

Most I can remember. Some I can’t. Some were long-term relationships. Some were one night stands. Lots involved alcohol, at least the first time, because as one friend says: “Darl, if it wasn’t for alcohol we’d all be virgins”. Some were glorious. Some were fun. Some were bloody awful.

Before you judge me, consider this: I’ve never married, and when I’m in a relationship, I’m overwhelmingly monogamous (I did stray once, and learned a painful lesson). But 30-ish active sexual years has seen my tally of partners rise to almost four times that of the average Baby Boomer, and I don’t think I’m unusual for a woman my age who hasn’t settled with a single partner.

I have a friend who has slept only with her husband. I can’t think what that must be like. I imagine my world is similarly a mystery to her. We’ve quizzed each other over a glass or two of wine. Is this extreme monogamy – which was, of course, the norm for our grandmas - the most personal, wonderful and precious of things? How would you know if the sex was good? What would you do if it wasn’t? Would it get boring? Does she think about having sex with other men? (Turns out she does, but not often.) And she’s never been tempted to act, to which I say: hats off!

At least, if you combine our numbers, our mean figure comes closer to the average.

So here’s how I reached what must be, to lots of women my age, an admittedly colossal total.

I lost my virginity just before I turned 16. That was old for the town I was from, where dragging on the more sophisticated brand of cigarette (Benson and Hedges) as we aimlessly wandered the streets and inwardly prayed for the local bad boys to appear in a cloud of Holden fumes and swagger passed for entertainment.

A girl in her virginal state at my age was one of two things – frigid or a “leso”.

I was neither. I thought I was ugly and, freckled and fair, it’s true I was a long way from that adolescent ideal worn so effortlessly by my tanned, slender-limbed friends. But even then, I couldn’t understand why a boy who slept around was a stud and a girl who did the same thing was – yes, we used the word liberally - a slut. And even though I could see those girls were popular, I didn’t want to be popular for that reason.

Celebrities who (we're guessing) have had a few sexual partners (Post continues after Gallery)

I went to an all-girl boarding school. I sneered at the boys from our closest boys’ school – so daggy, so toff, I sniffed, though the truth is I was terrified of them. But still I went to private school country dances in freezing woolsheds, smoking and trying to look tough while my friends danced with boys who were actually quite nice, and sometimes even achieved that holiest of grails: a boyfriend!!

When it happened for the first time, the sex was a very long way from the promises of Cosmo. It was quick and feverish, with one of the most desirable local hoods who, with his loutish mates, had crashed the dance. I felt very pleased with myself, and had earnest conversations with my girlfriends about losing it to someone you’d always be friends with. Truth is, it was actually kind of boring. I saw the deflowerer a few years back at the races. So was he.

I left school and the town I grew up with. I got my first serious boyfriend and stayed with him for four years. The sex was bloody great. We said we loved each other in a wide-eyed, naive way, and he wanted to marry me. But we were in our early 20s and I was at uni and in the end we split. He was followed by another, much more serious, relationship. We lived together for three blissful years, then talked marriage. We busted up. My heart was broken. I didn’t have sex with anyone for more than two years, and when I did it was a drunken one-night stand. It was a bit erk.

So as I headed toward 30, the total was hardly rocketing. But that decade was a fantastic time – friends, parties, new people, changing jobs. And yes, a fairly consistent up-tick in sexual partners. And it was the same for so many others in my crowd: lots of singles and lots of opportunities – of all kinds! Sure, there were many, many times I yearned to find The One, to settle down, to have children, but he didn’t materialise and as anyone in my position then will tell you, it’s hard to just conjure up the right man. I didn’t want to be single, but for lengthy periods I was. And I didn’t have much to whine about - I was busy, happy and surrounded by good people.

By my mid-40s, things had changed. I’d fallen in love, hard, and with a man who wasn't available. Four years later and heartbroken again, I’d realised I’d changed. My gang had changed. Life was quieter. I wanted a relationship and felt like I’d met every single man known to my friends without result. I wasn’t interested in sex just for the sake of it. So – and I still can’t believe I did it - I decided to give online dating a shot. I met men who were strange and men who were lovely, and one who spoke about himself in the third person and drank Jack Daniels and Coke at lunchtime who I did a runner on.

It was a jungle out there, but you’ll never hear criticism from me: My last three relationships have been gifts from the online dating gods. The first lasted about four months, the next two years. I didn’t sleep with either until I knew there was something more to it.

I told friends I was writing this story, and asked if I really was off the charts in having slept with so many men. Some were shocked to discover I was such an early starter. But even those who lost their virginity later, and in infinitely more promising circumstances (like, with actual boyfriends!!), tell me their totals aren’t so far off mine if they’re single – or wouldn’t be if they hadn’t met the man they settled down with. After all, if we’re talking averages, it’s less than two a year.

I met my current partner 18 months ago. We fell in love quickly, bought a house and have settled into almost clichéd domesticity. I’ve never been so happy.

There might have been a lot of men in the past, but I’m pretty sure there won’t be in the future.

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