Sure, we weren’t making love any more, but we were talking again. Suddenly we had conversations in our bed that would last so long we’d see the su...rise again. We laughed, we cried, we were newlyweds without the sex. He wasn’t cheating on me as much as he was taking care of himself.” “Did he tell you about this mistress?” “No, he never did. But I knew. A wife always knows. That’s why I put his picture in the paper with the obituary, so if by chance she saw it, she might come. I mean, for all I. How could he have lied to me for so long? And now, now... must I lie to him? Oh, God, I just don't know what to do.She bent down and swept the last of the broken china into a dustpan. "Honey, I'm home," her husband's voice yelled from the front door. "Where are you? I... oh, hiding in the kitchen, huh," he said, poking his dark curly head through the open door. "Break something?" he asked."Just a plate. Would you like a drink?" Her eyes remained on the small pile in the dustpan. She didn't dare. This is because the hippocampus and the frontal cortex process the contextual information, and inhibitory pathways dampen the amygdala’s fear response. Basically, the ‘thinking’ circuitry of our brain reassures our ‘emotional’ area that we are in fact OK and not in danger, but just the same we get a “Rush” from all the things that are now flowing through our blood stream. A natural ‘high’ as some describe it.I found an article written by Geórgia Dias that elegantly describes what a Sub is. Me, I fell I love with it. As for you, you’re honest and at least you have it a try”. He got up, pulled his boxers and his pants back up. We shook hands and he left.**He told me that he understood was I was trying to say and that he was still unsure about doing it anyway. He then sent me another email in which he was saying that he have no problem fucking his gf in the ass, so that staying hard to fuck me in the ass shouldn’t be a problem for him.I was debating whether I should tell him it.