It’s the middle of the night and you’re fast asleep, dreaming about Yours Truly. We’re walking along the beach, holding hands, fingers interlocked. Life is perfect. We have nothing to do today except take in the sun and maybe sip some wine before having a gourmet candlelit dinner.

When the last neighbor’s lights go out, we scurry upstairs for a long night of hot, sweaty sex that makes me scream your name over and over again with unbridled passion. You envision me riding your cock as you lay on your back in the center of the bed, my tits bouncing as I ride you like a stallion. Your cock feels so amazing inside of me when suddenly—!

“Honey can you get me some ibuprofen?” You see the words come out of my mouth as my hips continue to sway on top of you, but the voice you hear has an older, fugly, disparaging cadence to it.

You feel your shoulder being shoved and suddenly you awaken to realize that the request for pills didn’t come from the amazingly hot, sweaty body that was delivering you a dose of Heaven. The reality was that it came from your wife lying next to you.

She interrupted our dream-time tryst because she regards this task as your responsibility. She expects you to jump up and fetch her some fucking pain reliever! If she’s ever awake and having trouble falling to sleep, then you’re required to be awake, feeling her pain, too. Though she would never dream (pun intended) of waking from a beautiful dream to do your bidding for you.

You protest a little, “Couldn’t you have…” when you cut yourself off, knowing this conversation will go nowhere. It’s much easier to just feed the sloth her medication, hoping you’ll get back to sleep quickly, and rejoin me in our intimate soirée. The alternative is engaging in a whiny debate that always ends with you apologizing anyway.

You get up and grab the bottle of ibuprofen and toss it to your wife. “What about some water to take them with?” This scenario plays out in one form or another quite often. Maybe you’re not being woken from a fantasy filled slumber, but in other ways, the woman who promised to be your other half has turned you into her caretaker!

You’ve been taking responsibility for all of life’s most tedious details for so long that she’s come to feel entitled to your servitude. When you were both younger she embraced you lovingly, and her kisses inspired you. The way she worshipped your cock once upon a time made every obstacle, every inconvenience so worth it. Today, I ask you this: when was the last time she proactively initiated sucking your cock? What does it take; what kind of bargaining is required for her to give you head, even piss-poor, thoughtless, mechanical sucking??

She’s not going to change, at least not for the better. The days of her being hot for you, and you for her, are long gone. If you want passion in your sex life, if you want a woman whose voice evokes thoughts that turn your cock into a rigid pole, if you want someone who wants to give you sexual pleasure, you need to recognize that Yours Truly is your answer.

I want you more than she does. I want your cock to feel good more than she does. I want to be romantic with you more than she does.

You owe me nothing, babe, and I’ve never taken you for granted. Imagine that you could have bottled her passion and desire for you long ago and held onto it to release and bask in any time you wished. That is why No Man Calls Only Once. Because I am what you once lived for and somehow lost.

You are ten digits away from procuring your passion once again.

Call me, babe.