During the first two months of their married life, Gloria was such a good actress that her husband never suspected she was only pretending to be aroused when they made love. It never occurred to him that his wife could be sexually excited only by thinking about his business partner, Jeremy. And yet this is exactly what was happening. Gloria could only be aroused when she imagined that Jeremy, not Corey, her husband, was penetrating her. After their lovemaking, once Corey drifted happily off into sleep, Gloria would stay awake for hours, tormented by guilt. How long can I play these psychological games with myself? she asked herself. How long can I pretend that I feel erotic passion for a man whom I love only as my dearest friend? Am I condemned to being a hypocrite for the rest of my life? Do Corey’s happiness and the stability of my marriage depend on my projecting an illusion? Even as a child, I loathed ambiguous situations. I’ve always cherished forthrightness and honesty. Now here I am, married only two months, and faking orgasms like any high-class prostitute. Where is all this going to end?
