Mia loved her job. Writing an advice column for sexually troubled people was a task she was perfectly suited for. She had a therapy degree and an uncanny ability to place herself in other’s people’s shoes. Every day, her inbox greeted her with a new challenge.
Monday morning was no exception. Mia read the email seconds after dragging herself out of bed. She hadn’t had her coffee yet, but the email’s explosive content jolted her wide awake.
Dear Mia,
After years of marriage, my husband and I had become accustomed to wild, passionate sex night after night – sometimes up to three or four times a day.
Taking a break from the email, Mia fanned herself. “Three or four times a day?” she shouted. “Whew!”
But lately things have changed. His hours at work have picked up, leaving him exhausted when he comes home at night. To put it bluntly, I want more. I’d love to return to the days of endless lovemaking between the two of us, the days where he would spend hours tickling my body with gentle strokes and licks until I simply couldn’t take it anymore.
Mia leaned back in her chair easing her legs apart slowly. It was a challenge to keep her mind from drifting, but she somehow kept reading.
The problem is I’m too shy to demand what I want from him. I usually just accept his neglect in silence, hoping that someday he’ll change. But he never does. If I’m lucky, we have sex once a week, and even then it’s not very good. I want him to take his time and explore every area of my body. I want his lips, his tongue, his teeth savoring me all over, but he usually just wants to get it over with and to get back to sleep. Like I said, I’m shy, so I’m not so good at telling him what I want. Can you help me, Mia?
Unsatisfied Frida
Catching her breath, Mia considered...
WARNING: THIS CONTENT IS INTENDED FOR MATURE AUDIENCES. 18+ ONLY.
Genre: FICTION / Erotica / GeneralMia loved her job. Writing an advice column for sexually troubled people was a task she was perfectly suited for. She had a therapy degree and an uncanny ability to place herself in other’s people’s shoes. Every day, her inbox greeted her with a new challenge.
Monday morning was no exception. Mia read the email seconds after dragging herself out of bed. She hadn’t had her coffee yet, but the email’s explosive content jolted her wide awake.
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Italian
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Already translated.
Translated by Judita Badurina
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Spanish
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Already translated.
Translated by Luisa Maria Reyes Cortés
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