I asked him what his sexual fantasy was, and he said, “Two redheads.” I’m a brunette.

—Autumn

Aftermath: He left me two months later. For a blonde.

One fateful night, missionary style, the condom broke within a few pumps. I reared back to put on a new one, and it hit me. The most awful smell my nose had ever experienced. This was new, and I uncontrollably went limp. She asked what happened, and too nice to say it, I told her I had an E.D. type of disorder

—Bukowski

Aftermath: I went and got an STD check, fearing she had a rare dead animal disease. I was clean, we never had sex again, and she told friends I go limp easily. Nice guys finish last!

I sometimes fantasized about other men. He looked at porn online. In our late 30’s, we had sex once a month on average for the last five years of our union. During the almost twenty years we were together, I was sexually satisfied fewer times than I can count on my fingers.

—Not The One

Aftermath: He blurted out, “You’re not The One.” We’re now divorced.

For me, it was over when she said, “I’ll never do anal sex.”

—Angelo

Aftermath: I met someone else who was more sexually receptive.

I knew it was over when he asked me how I felt about my father buying my sister a new car for her 30th birthday. I stated I was pretty used to being 2nd now and I’d be fine. He then replied, “My first anal.”

–First

Aftermath: I said thank you for the message, I needed that. I said I was done and I meant it.