She shouldn’t be the one “controlling” the sex in our marriage, deciding if and when we have sex based on her mood. I was the husband. I was the...“head of our house”. It was about time I got a little bit of what I wanted out of this relationship.The little bit of alcohol (enough that I could feel it, not enough to make me drunk) helped to unlock those buried feelings and gave me the courage to act on them. I walked down the hall with confidence and, dare I say, authority. I opened the door to. Michael had proved that to him. He was stillsore, but did not care. Kyle reveled in the feeling. Sex, sex, sexysex, sex! He finally felt like he was starting to adapt to beingfemale.Sure, being a woman could be inconvenient. It took longer to getdressed, and being physically smaller was intimidating at times. Goingto the bathroom was more of a chore, and periods were definitely icky.Plus, sex had a lot more consequences to it. He could see why he hadcreated the fantasy that he was really. I am fine. I doubt I would feel comfortable with that. Well let me do something for you, finger? No I am ok. ( I did not think she would let me have sex with her) but what the hell, Want to have sex? You do not want to have sex with me, I am much to old and not desirable.You are a nice looking women and I would like to have sex with you. I wanted to for years. Just worried about asking. She did not want to and we left it there. few more times I came over and I complemented the oral sex she gave. Mom and I looked at her, Mom in apprehension and me in curiosity. “I went down to this place called BodyWorks. It’s near the mall over the other side of town, the one near Commercial Square.”“Sure, I’ve heard of it. It’s supposed to be good.”Mom looked at me. “Who are you and what have you done with my daughter,” she commented.“That would be the daughter you take to wild sex parties, right?” I replied, to which Mom stuck her tongue out at me. I turned back to Amanda. “So, what was it.