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Stephanie’s distaste for sex was all her husband’s fault as far as she was concerned. He just didn’t know how to make her hot. And she wouldn’t let him experiment with new techniques. They were nasty, disgusting–and they made her wet her panties with shame–or was it lust… ? According to Dr. Leland E. Glover, in his book, Sex Life of the Modern Adult: “Sexually inadequate husbands probably account for the failure of a great many potentially adequate women to become sexually fulfilled. Experts estimate that at least 25 percent of all wives are sexually unresponsive; surely some of these are unresponsive because their husbands don’t know enough about lovemaking to make them respond.”
Stephanie Southwourth stood naked before the full-length mirror in the bedroom, eyeing her provocative figure. Hands on hips, and legs slightly spread, she turned first one way then the other so she could view herself from all angles. One year of marriage had not changed her figure. If marriage had done anything to her, it had matured her, developed her youthful breasts into those of a woman. Now they were fuller and firmer, and more palatable. She ran her hands along her naked thighs; her skin seemed warm and damp to her touch.
She walked away from the mirror and reached for her negligee, which lay at the foot of the bed. Clifton would be home soon, and no doubt feel the urge to use his sex on her. Stephanie remembered when she was nineteen, she had been so excited about Clifton. She could recall how her breath caught in her throat at the mere mention of his name. Clifton was a promising young photographer with one of the largest wire services, and was also the most eligible and handsome bachelor. Every girl in the office building wanted a date with Clifton, but Stephanie had won him, and after a three month courtship, they married.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.