I'm 74, a widower. My wife died fifteen months ago after a little over forty-one years of marriage. I didn't marry until I was thirty-two, a late maturer I guess. Marrying late has its advantages. I had sowed my wild oats, although they weren't all that wild nor sowed all that widely, so I knew what I was missing and it wasn't much. I had no trouble staying faithful through my marriage. Not that our sex life together was all that wild either. My fault as much as, o...
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