Inside Our Marriage: When Sex Becomes a Transaction, and That’s Okay

Let’s be clear upfront: I’m not being trafficked. I’m not in danger. I’m not trapped in some strange financial arrangement. I’m in a long-term, mutually loving relationship with my husband—and yes, sometimes he pays me for sex.

I mean that literally.

And before you clutch your pearls, let me explain.

It All Started With Forty Quid

The mood? Non-existent. I was in saggy pyjamas, socks older than our marriage, hair in a chaotic bun, and absolutely no intention of initiating anything remotely sexy.

He made a move. I groaned.

Then, with a look that was one part cheeky and two parts desperate, he reached into his wallet and pulled out two crisp £20 notes. Held them out like an offering to the gods of bedroom cooperation.

“Come on, babe. Just a quick one. Call it hazard pay.”

At first, I was horrified. Not morally—logistically. I mean, £40?

I burst out laughing. So did he. But then… I took the money.

And reader, it worked.

It Became a Bit… of a Thing

We both knew it was a joke. A silly, flirty bribe for someone he already knew loved him. But the brilliance of it? There was no pressure. No obligation. It was just… funny. Unexpected. Light.

And it kept happening.

Sex Work? Marriage Hack? Feminist Victory?

Call it what you want, but here’s the truth:

Sex in long-term relationships can get complicated.

Women are often expected to meet emotional and physical needs regardless of their own state of exhaustion or stress.

Men joke about paying for sex all the time—usually with strangers.

So why not flip the script?

I’m not being exploited. I’m making a choice. I’m naming a value—even if it’s a symbolic one. And weirdly, that £40 joke made me feel more respected than all the unsolicited back rubs and passive whining combined.

Here’s Our Running Tab

Because every functional marriage needs clear terms and conditions:

Casual cuddles: Free (unless I'm cold, then it's a trap)

Spontaneous pounce: £0 (I’m not made of stone)

He initiates, I hesitate, he offers cash: £40 (two twenties, exact change preferred)

Post-sex snacks: Included. I don’t get out of bed for crisps.

But Isn’t That… Sad?

Some people will think so.

They’ll say this devalues intimacy.

They’ll say it’s transactional.

They’ll say a real marriage doesn’t need money to make it work.

And to those people I say: cool. Your marriage, your rules.

But ours? Ours works better with jokes, permission, and a healthy respect for the mental load. If £40 makes me laugh, softens my resentment, or just buys me a morning latte and a croissant, then why not?

Money, Power, and the Great British Bedroom

Let’s be honest: marriage is already transactional.

We divide chores. Share finances. Swap time for childcare. Compromise daily.

But we rarely talk openly about sex. About wanting it. Not wanting it. Feeling too tired, too touched-out, too mentally overloaded. So sometimes, introducing a ridiculous offer—a £40 incentive—lets us name that disconnect without shaming either of us.

It’s not about prostitution.

It’s about humour, consent, and autonomy.

It’s about saying: “Yes—but on my terms.”

And yes, sometimes those terms involve cash.

The Freedom of the Joke

The best part?

It’s never serious.

If I say no, it’s no. If I take the money and change my mind later, that’s okay too. It’s a private joke that became a pressure release. A strange but genuine act of affection.

Sometimes, a £40 bribe says more than words ever could.

It says:

“I see you.”

“I know you’re tired.”

“I’ll sweeten the deal if it helps.”

“And I respect your right to say no.”

Honestly? That’s more intimacy than a thousand forced rom-com kisses.

Final Thoughts

Marriage isn’t a fairy tale. It’s a weird, evolving negotiation between two flawed people trying to stay connected through the chaos of real life.

If your partner waves £40 in your direction and your first thought is, “That’s my nails and a cheeky pastry,” — then maybe you’re not being objectified. Maybe you’re being respected in the language you both understand best: cash and consent.

Because at the end of the day?

We laughed. We had sex.

I bought cake.

Everybody won.