I was getting a manicure the first time I learned
that not all wives want to, ahem, go for a roll in the hay with their husbands.
I was 16 and had picked out orange nail polish (oh, sixteen). I had a book with
me but it wasn’t long before I found another source of entertainment.
In-between buffings and polishings, the two women next to me talked about how
much their husbands wanted IT and how little they wanted to give IT.
For a girl that had not even been asked out on a
date this was a whole new world. I had a suspicion that their experience was
more realistic than the articles I sneaky read in Cosmo while getting
my hair done at the salon.