Recently someone posted on Medium that after five or six years of marriage the couple found they were no longer happy, that something was missing in their relationship. They talked it over and they came to the conclusion that what was missing … was other people. More specifically, they wanted to sleep with other people, lots of other people. So they decided on an open marriage. The woman further stated that they always practiced safe sex.
By the time I returned to St. Louis, after nearly a decade in Chicago, half of my life savings was gone. I was a ghost of myself. Finally, I was free from my husband after enduring years of atrocities.
You're on X-number of dating websites/apps and growing ever the more frustrated. Women aren't responding to your messages, let alone "liking" or "swiping right" on your profile. It has been weeks, maybe months, or even years. You want to give up, but there's that little sliver of hope left that she's out there somewhere.
It was a cold winter's night. Helen and Adam had gone to a gig. Adam had booked a smart apartment in the city centre and they were looking forward to watching the band and then coming back to the flat and enjoying level of intimacy unfortunately rarely achieved. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and maybe it was the fact that they were able to together only once or twice a month but their ardour for each other hadn't diminished in the year or so they’d been seeing each other. It only took the slightest look from Helen and Adam would start to stiffen whilst Helen had only to look into Adam's eyes and her knickers would start to get wet.
I was at the gay club which I am a regular at. Since it opened 3 years ago, I have been there every night. It is a great safe place to meet other me. I don’t hook up every time but most nights I go home with someone and it is never the same person. Anyway, this one night I was feeling particularly horny and was desperate to take someone home for some much needed relief. The music was pumping out through the sound system and the drinks were flowing nicely. I had spotted a “newbie” standing alone in the corner, sipping on a martini. I had noticed many other guys go over and talk to him, only to walk away a few minutes later. It was unlikely that anyone was going to score with him, but I still fancied my chances.