Desire

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It takes a lot of imagination to make long-distance love work. Phone sex and e-mail flirtation aren't the same as having a warm body to reach for in the night. Sometimes, though, they're even better. When Mark comes home with a bunch of flowers and a sheepish look on his face, I know that he's got to travel for work again. This is the third time in as many months that he's left me on my own for a week while he goes off to client meetings all over the world.

"So where is it this time?" I ask him sulkily, offering him my cheek, not my lips, when he bends down for his kiss. "Tokyo? Seattle? Munich?" I turn away. I don't mean to snap, and really I should be grateful; Mark is six feet two of gorgeous husband: funny, sexy, faithful, and a right horny little bastard. He would be perfect if only he were here a little more often. His sales job at IT means that we have our gorgeous home and that my own salary is pretty much pocket money. Because of Mark I have an amazing lifestyle. So I really shouldn't complain.

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