Strangers On The Plane

It was hot and steamy as we arrived at the airport in Brisbane for the long journey home to Boston. This was the end of a month-long camper van vacation in Australia, and I, for one, was overjoyed to be heading back to some normalcy. For an entire month my wife Anne (I call her “the queen”) had avoided sex in the camper van, or anywhere else for that matter, since “the children are nearby.” – The irony of her way of thinking will be evident shortly.

Actually, she is not very interested in sex anytime, since she was taught by her mother that sex was “dirty.” The only time she ever saw her parents making love, they were fully clothed (hike up the skirt, dear – I’ll just quickly unzip.) Sometimes I wonder how we ever ended up with three children; one is grown and on her own, the two boys (Ralph, 17 and Trevor, 14) were with us on holiday. Because I travel regularly, I have opportunity for other sexual outlets during the year, but four plus weeks within close quarters with a demanding uptight woman does not give you much opportunity to develop alternatives.

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