“It’s a date.” --- When I got home the atmosphere seemed to have lightened a bit. My wife was less distant, less grim-faced, though she stil... didn’t give any indication of wanting sex from me. Then one weekend morning, about a week after I got back from Chicago, I caught her masturbating in bed. I had gotten up early to put the coffee on and read the paper, and when I came back to the bedroom to get dressed she was lying on her back, her T-shirt pulled up and her pajama bottoms pulled. I groped her harder, her body responding. I felt her nipple harden beneath, and I felt the blood slowly move down in me. I was slowly losing my inhibition and began to want her more. Her own hand moved to my side and then onto my chest. She seemed to enjoy running her fingers over my tight chest, as our lips devoured each other. Before I could feel nervous, or doubt what was happening. I reached down, grabbing her shirt. She seemed to be waiting for this, for she grabbed my own, and we both in. More

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