How I Fell Madly In Lust With My Husband

by Susan Shapiro

“Hold me down harder, so you’re overpowering me and I can’t move. Like this,” I showed Aaron, trying to pin my hands under his arms as he lay awkwardly on top of me.

“It’s uncomfortable,” he complained.

“Oh, come on. Now rip off my shirt!” I ordered him. “Can you be more aggressive?”

“Can you be more castrating?” he asked, slipping off my sweater so gently you’d think I was a china doll about to break.

“Now grab my breasts and say something mean,” I instructed.

“You’re a controlling shrew,” he said calmly, obeying me so half-heartedly I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Maybe friends who’d called me a control freak were right. It appeared that I was now 100 percent in control of my own sexual domination.

My husband refused to act like he was raping me. Nor would he want to tie me up, restrain me, spank me, or force me into any form of submission, except to pick up his dry cleaning, which I was always forgetting.