Apparently? My wife had been faking it. Five years of marriage, two years of dating before that? The only orgasms she'd had were . . . "of her own creation," either genuine-but the product of toys or her own fingers-or simply performances for my benefit. But She found a solution, a way in which we could remain married, a way in which we could both have our needs met. She made an appointment for us: At The Cuckold Clinic. And our lives were utterly and forever changed. It was terrifying; it was humiliating; and-somehow?-it also brought me pleasure. That was the worst part. And . . . that was the best part.