Having recently emerged from a long-term relationship, Nicola*, 36, an advertising executive, went 11 months without sex until a friend challenged her to stop pursuing relationships and start pursuing sex.

I never really slept around much in my 20s. It wasn't that I had any moral aversion to casual sex, it just seemed that if I liked a man enough to sleep with him, a relationship usually ensued. At 34, I found the courage to leave a stale six-year relationship, but being single again wasn't quite how I'd imagined it.

I remember watching Sex And The City and fantasising about having that kind of exciting sex life, but now that I was single, my sex life didn't even resemble Charlotte's, let alone Samantha's. After an 11-month drought, I felt incredibly frustrated, not to mention horny.

I confessed my woes to my married friend Corinna, 38, the mother of a three-year-old boy. After listening to me complain that not only were there were no decent men to settle down with, but that I couldn't even find a lover, she exclaimed: "Nicola, half the population is male! You're in your sexual prime. You should be taking loads of lovers because there will come a time when you're married and haven't had sex for six months, and your baby is being sick down your neck, that you'll look back on those times, and they will get you through."

She obviously spoke from experience and her words resonated with me. I knew I'd be in a long-term relationship again - hopefully a lifelong relationship - and, as I'm totally monogamous when I'm with a partner, I thought I'd better make the most of my sexual freedom. So began my "year of promiscuity".

Suddenly, I realised I wasn't meeting lovers because I was looking at men purely as potential husbands. In my eagerness not to fall into another relationship unless it was right for me, I had become very particular about the kind of man I wanted to date. Corinna's words set off a seismic shift in my attitude to sex. Just because I slept with a man, it didn't mean that a relationship had to follow.

I decided that I would now be open to sexual encounters with men I found attractive, regardless of whether they were younger, not as smart as me, or otherwise previously inappropriate. By not seeing every man as the future father of my children, the way became clear for me to seek out potential new lovers. And when the blinkers came off, the view was surprisingly good.

Sexual opportunities presented themselves almost immediately. My first encounter was with a South African backpacker with a great body, followed a month later by a hunky carpenter who made me laugh, a fisherman who talked incessantly about fish, and a doctor who'd stop by after night shifts at the hospital. In 18 months, I had eight lovers that I met on holiday, or in bars and at parties. After the first couple of guys, I was surprised to find I didn't feel guilty about my flings - and that I could still have satisfying sex outside a relationship. Of all the lovers, there were only two less-than-fantastic encounters, which wasn't a bad strike rate.

I knew most of these men weren't long-term relationship material and, by refusing to give them my phone number, it was up to me whether I saw them again. Some of them were one-night stands, others I saw two or three times. One guy became a regular partner for a few months, but as I knew he wasn't my soul mate, I didn't get attached.

My friends all had something to say about my new-found sexual freedom: single girlfriends were either impressed or jealous that I was having all this hot sex; some of my married friends were very judgemental about my choices, convinced that I was avoiding a relationship, which wasn't true. I identified very quickly the friends to whom I could relate my sex stories. However, after nearly two years of playing the field, I got bored of sleeping with men that I didn't have any real feelings for, but I don't regret a moment of it. I learnt I could have fun, on my terms if I wanted to, while at the same time waiting for "the one".

Read two more pieces of sex advice in the March issue of marie claire.

*'''Name changed