Ever since the wife lost interest in sex, I have been chatting online to see if there were other married men in my situation. Perhaps I could get some advice. I discovered that my personal circumstance was way more common than I had imagined. It’s known as living in a sexless marriage.

As I continued to investigate, I found a local men’s support group. It was easy to share my story while receiving lots of helpful feedback. Posting personal snapshots was also encouraged, so I uploaded a few images. The comments were gratifying and did wonders for my self-esteem.

One guy invited me to a private house party that was about an hour away. He explained that it was just a care free evening of nudist socializing. At first the idea sounded crazy, but eventually my promiscuous side drove me to accept the invitation. In the days that followed I couldn’t stop thinking about how I would handle being totally naked in front of a group of strangers. The date finally arrived and after stepping out of the shower, I scrutinized myself in front of the mirror. I almost chickened out, but decided to tell the wife that a friend had called me to help install a new dishwasher.

The map directed me to a fancy gated community with perfectly manicured lawns and three car garages. I finally arrived at a large English Tudor and wondered how people could afford such things. Before pressing the doorbell, I adjusted my shirt collar and nervously cleared my throat. The massive wooden entrance was opened by a tall man in a bathrobe who extended a hand, “Name’s Frank, and welcome to our little mixer.”