The Real Reason All My Friends' Wives Want To Have Sex With Me

I used to tell a joke on stage about f*cking your friends' wives. It starts pretty innocuous — the comedian's lament that your "corporate friends" have earned the trappings of a successful life by sticking to the script and climbing that ladder one rung at a time.

Some of these guys didn't quite break the SAT but still have third homes and cars, which they correct you on the pronunciation of. However, you know in your heart of hearts that you could f*ck their wives. All but one.

(I have to throw in that "all but one" because eventually every friend will see my act, likely to show how magnanimous they are towards my "little hobby," so I need to convince each one that his wife is the one you couldn't f*ck. That's a lie, though — I'm the one being magnanimous; I could f*ck her any time you want.)

I'm not a Hemsworth to my buddy's Giamatti. Maybe I get to the gym more often than my cuckold friend and maybe I don't. I certainly don't shave as often. But still I have something he doesn't: Mystique.

Maybe my buddy has mentioned that single life has been good to me or even accidentally gets some far-off car commercial look in his eye when discussing "being single." It's possible his wife thinks I have a flesh tone-appropriate Lexington Steele situation going on below the belt, even though I'd never be able to get my slightly-too-small jeans on, were that the case.

Being a long-married woman, possibly with kids, she may think I have moves that weren't available when she was on the prowl. It would blow her basic brain thinking about 69ing again. And, all jokes aside, she definitely remembers a much more extravagant "tongue game" being a thing before she hit her linens-and-lace anniversary. 

Did she watch Beyonce's "Lemonade" and feel like there was a 100 percent chance that she needs some top shelf, mildly pre-approved side-dick, not just as a treat to herself but as a zig-a-zig-ahhhhhh to women everywhere?

Is it possible she saw some moronic internet meme about needing more? Does she want to feel desired again? Doesn't matter/who cares/get in line...

What does matter is that I'm there: Fun, unpredictable, discreet, loyal to myself, new haircut-noticing me. Safe in my familiarity but not so much so to breed contempt. My stories aren't tired.

And even if I don't put effort into how I dress, someone could view my Crocs as an ironic statement rather than my boy's sign of giving up. Cheating isn't my thing but I can f*ck her any time I want. Maybe I'd be doing both of them a favor.

Congratulations. I'm a better man than her husband — both because she wants me and because I have decided to remain loyal... for now. Hopefully Pope Francis is scheduling time to beatify me.