When her relationship hit a snag, a writer accidentally discovered the secret to a long-lasting, sex-filled partnership.
As my wife, Vicky, turned off the lights to go to bed, she asked me about my college dorm. We had just dropped off our daughter at college for the first time. The question got me reminiscing about my own experiences 30 years ago, telling her about the guy a few rooms down I cuddled with, who, in retrospect, must have been gay. I laughed and then recalled the time I pulled a muscle slipping in a beer puddle running down the hall.
