My pleasure tool, and I wanted it in me. I opened my legs and rolled my hips back in my invitational spread. It was a position he had seen many ti...es now but he always looked at it. Always looked at my cunt, reached down and rubbed my lips, pulled them open and poked a finger into me. Today I wanted more. I looked at him and said “More”. He poked a second finger into me and rubbed them in and out. I wanted my stretched, fat, feeling. “More’ I said. He pulled out and came back. I doubt very much that separation would have shocked her into change, and divorce would have inevitably followed. I find myself wondering if that might have been best. But such thinking is futile. I did sell the house. I did stay in Cambridge. And we did stay together, if peculiarly. My life become one of memory and fantasy. Memories of days, nights, experiences, with Julie and Anne, and other women, some of whose names I could not even remember, some of whom I was surprised to realize I had. More

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