Our sex life evolved as well. Sharon demanded lots of oralservice from me; almost every night, not just Fridays. She stoppedallowing me to penetrate...her vagina, telling me she never could orgasmfrom that. Instead she made me put on a condom and then gave me a handjob. After a few weeks of that, she decided I should do my own handjobs. I felt like I was back in high school when masturbation was myonly sexual outlet. When I filled a condom she insisted I consume itscontents. I suppose it. “Hello. Hello? Lisa? Are you there.”With a dry, sore throat, she tried licking her lips to get some moisture. Finally, she managed a cracked “Hello.”“Lisa? Are you ok? You sound terrible.”She tried swishing her tongue around in her mouth to get some saliva going. “I’m here.” Her brain still muddled.“Were you still sleeping? It’s almost noon.”“Yea. I guess I must have dozed off for a minute.” Why did she suddenly feel the need to lie to her husband? The fact was she hadn’t been up yet. She. More

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