He told me I kiss like a nymphomaniac on parole. He's about right there. I love kissing. I love all sorts of touch, but the feel of another's lips on my own is irreplaceable.

The Ex really taught me the wonders of kissing. That man knew his way around lips. It was one of those things I couldn't get enough of with him. As soon as his mouth was on mine I was at and ready for him. It was never a question: if our lips met it wouldn't be long before I was welcoming his hard cock inside me.

Dan kisses me very similarly. He seems to like it, too. He told me her hadn't made out with someone as much as he had been with me since he was a teenager. I'm pretty sure I haven't made out with anyone at much as I have with him since The Ex.

Disappointingly, Husband had never figured out how to kiss. Too​ much tongue. Sometimes I find he's engulfed my entire mouth with his own, as he looks for depth in kissing I just don't crave.

Unfortunately for Dan and I, he got sick and now I am. I actually had to go to the doctor to get medication for a head cold that had taken over my entire brain. Kissing has been off the table which has been a form of torture for me.

I'm so impatient to taste his mouth again.

Maybe I need too much.

No, I know I need too much. That's not even really in doubt. I'm 38 years old, have a career I'm happy with, a marriage that is okay, a house, a family of sorts. And I still want a boyfriend.

And not just someone I fuck occasionally. I want someone whose company I enjoy and can seek out for even nonsexual things.

What I'm not looking for is a new husband. I don't want to move in. I don't want him to move in with me. I don't want to share bills or cars.

A true friend with benefits. And maybe the problem is that I look at the benefits first and then hope for a friend. I'm not so good the other way around.