Her eyes were repeatedly drawn to her phone, checking for the text, thinking that perhaps she’d missed the notification. She paced, sipped at a bott...e of water, checked the time constantly as she became more impatient. She could feel the sexual tension rebuilding and part of her knew instinctively that this long break was meant to do just that. Finally after an interminable three hour wait, her phone chirped. She snatched it up.“Club Monaco. 30min. Directions are in GPS.” She took a few minutes. Neither of us said anything. It felt good to masturbate, and though I was very, very much in love with Mara, it was curious that sex played so little a role in our daily relationship as husband and wife. I wasn't complaining. Though odd to some, this sort of sex-less (as far as intercourse went) relationship didn't seem odd to either of us! Not at all. In fact, from the very start of our marriage, we'd both agreed that Mara wanted to have African-fathered babies, not Caucasian ones, like mine. More

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