I slept with Mike last night, in my marital bed, with my husband’s consent—and we did it bareback. It was wonderfully easy. Our marriage therapist—a woman—told my husband, “Given your shortcomings in bed, you must understand that your wife needs to have a lover. Her lover should be an honest man you respect and admire—someone you can even envy for his success with women. He must be utterly discreet. Based on our previous sessions, I think I am describing your closest friend. Am I? He nodded, and I just added, “Honey, if he must be your best friend, I think you shouldn’t offend him by asking him to wear a condom.”
When the whore was served with divorce papers and I threw her out of my house, and the therapist was served with a $6 million lawsuit and reported to the ethics board, she lost her license to practice.
