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In the waning days of my marriage, I watched scrambled porn.
I can’t believe I’m admitting that. I was married to an intelligent,
pretty, sweet-tempered woman. Today we are, thank God, great friends,
but back then we had stopped clicking in a whole lot of ways.
Your sex life is one of the first places that deficit will show up—a
big, wet, pink canary slowly drying up and gasping in the airless coal
mine of your mutual unhappiness.
In the dismal kind of law that Robert Stephan Cohen practices, the "other side" that gets skinned is you. The instigator is the woman you once pledged to love to the point of death, the girl who once stirred ecstatic thoughts in your mind all night long, the one who had been your confidant and best friend. Until now.
Read MoreMy wife and I have been together for a decade, but I’ve never seen her naked by daylight. And not because she’s unattractive—at 18 she got as far as the Miss Minnesota pageant, and today she can still be credibly described as the thinking man’s Heather Locklear. So why the extreme modesty? Karen believes that relationships last longer when you protect the mystery.
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