While trying to accompany my husband on business trips with his frequent flyer miles, however I often was left home, alone.He had his mistress, the bu...iness. Who was I, simply the provider of domestic tranquility? Financially well off, I became a Nordstrom's and Saks' Fifth Avenue attired ornament who spent half a day once a week at a salon, maintained shoulder-length hair, bathed in a bubble bath, used exotic lotions to keep a supple skin and layered it with expensive French lingerie. I drove. I was pathetic. --Matthew got one look at me coming in from my run and sprayed toothpaste all over the place, amazed.“Oh, no,” I whispered, looking at my reflection. My hair still had some crusty white stuff in it and I could see my skin stained with broken, yellowish streaks. Anyone with a good eye could see what I’d been up to.Matthew laughed slowly, “now the whole neighborhood knows you’re a cumslut.”I might be pathetic at home. But I had a job I was late for. Dealing with his slur could. More

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