Over the years I have welcomed many different men into my bed. My husband found this compulsion hard to understand when we were first married. However, I think he quickly came to realise that if satisfying this strange need of mine made for a happy wife then he would ultimately benefit and so the pattern was set.
So, what do I say of all these different souls who kept me company down the years, who kept me sane and gave me the release I was crying out for? Oh! what joy to sink beneath the covers with a familiar old acquaintance or at other times with an exciting new find. There was Frank with his twinkling blue eyes, an older man full of wisdom and with a gentle sense of humour. Oh! how I like a sense of humour in a man. It can cover many an awkward moment.
Others were fast paced adrenaline junkies, always out for excitement and oh how I got caught up in the moment, imagination running wild, impossible scenarios playing out to a final thrilling climax.
I hope I haven’t shocked you but as they say, “brace yourself Bridie”. Not only did I welcome men into my bed I also welcomed many women. They tended to be less action-orientated, more ponderous and thoughtful, sometimes driving me to distraction if they didn’t get straight into it. I grew to love many of these companions, I even grew obsessive about some of them. Helplessly my husband looked on as my addiction grew and sucked me in deeper and deeper.
He knows I love him, but he has come to accept that I will always read in bed – even when I have a headache.