"This is about sex." It's true that one of the first men I meet fits that profile perfectly. tells me he can't have the kind of sex he wants to have with his wife because she's unwilling, and, on some level, he doesn't want to do those sorts of things with her.
He complains that she performs oral sex as if it were a chore.
Earlier, he sent 2,000 words on how he got into the game, the trips to California and Ireland, the way the clouds flood the greens at Galway Bay. The long puppyish emails, the condensation of an entire life into a few breathless paragraphs that allow him to retell the stories his wife has already heard.
He also included a dispatch from the previous evening's softball game, from the excitement of the opening huddle to the crushing defeat. He lets himself be vulnerable too, sharing memories of the beloved dog he had to put down, the long drive home from the vet when he could not stop crying.
But most have taken their pictures recently and surreptitiously.
Maybe I shouldn't be surprised: 68 percent of the site's members are men, and their average age is 44 — right in his demographic. Some wax their chests and others are darkly forested.
He wants to meet; he doesn't know I ran into him just last week. The more careful among them don't post pictures directly to the site, but they send a key that grants me access to a "private showcase" of images.
This generation of married couples is sliding to an all-time low.
Instead of marriage counseling, self help, or simply talking marriage problems out, men and women are relieving their stress online.
'I could never have this conversation with her'I meet G. He calls me by my fake name, and I call him by his. You may get to know a deep tumor of the married man's soul, but you won't know his real name.) He looks exactly as he does in his pictures: dark-haired and big-chinned, vaguely politician-ish. He lives in a big city now but grew up in a small town where he married young. His wife is not intellectual enough, he says, but he will be with her for life.