The same day the ink dried on the divorce decree I had the most mind altering sex of my life. I should have been comfortable telling my husband what I wanted in bed. I wasn’t. I didn’t say a word for twenty years. Now I’m standing in a sex shop with my ex, listening to a clerk explain how all of the erotic toys are used. We aren’t getting back together. This is not a reconciliation. We’re divorced. Even if my thighs are clenched thinking how he’s going to bind my wrists with the final loose ends of our marriage. Then we’re really over.