I’ve always known that I’m more sexually experienced and adventurous than my husband.

I’m not saying that I slept with a pile of guys before we got married, but I’ve always been precocious. I know what I like, and I go after it.

When I met him, James was a chronic “nice guy” who even by his late twenties had not explored much beyond your basic missionary or cowgirl sex — and always with the lights off. I cannot entirely blame the prudes he dated, either. James came from a conservative, country club-faring family, and the girls in those circles never admit to using their mouth “there” or liking it back “there” or anything else that isn’t an admission of their love of (insert preppy designer name). My sweet husband was conditioned from birth... Read More