In my late thirties, divorced and without a quotable man around, I hired an 'escort'. He was bisexual if not gay, metrosexual, pretty in a sick way, his gym toned body a total turn off. I turned him away. Why in my mind I was expecting my ex I don't know. 45, beer gut, balding, obstinate, overbearing, self centered and into self gratification using my body and not his hand.

I called my ex, apologized for the hour, told him what I had done, asked him to forgive me and if I could go see him. The sex was not improved, deja vu all over again, but comforting in a way I didn't expect. I slept with him and we had breakfast together.

We are now 'fuck buddies', same old same old. Unlike some pretty boy on the clock, I can cuddle up and spend the night.