More and more frequently I found myself alone in our penthouse in Cambridge, resentful of what at the time I thought was her obsessive career. When sh... was at home, she was always exhausted. She never refused me sex, but it was no better than necrophilia, and gradually I stopped bothering. I deeply regretted selling the house in Tiburon because I would have surely gone there. I doubt very much that separation would have shocked her into change, and divorce would have inevitably followed. I find. I was enjoying our chat. I was enjoying it quite a lot.”I turned to her, “So was I actually. Maybe I should come a little earlier every time so that we can talk.”“I’d really like that Goyse. Say hi to Ron for me.” She suddenly put her arm around me, pulled me up against her body in a hug. She must have felt my boner because as she released me she said, “You really did enjoy our little talk didn’t you,” and looked down at the tent in my pants.I’m sure that my face must have lit up like a light. More

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