You were forced into a marriage, neither of your own free will nor of your own choice, but for the benefit of the company you inherited from your family. You entered your new home with a heavy heart, carrying the weight of a commitment whose outcome you had no idea.

After the wedding night, his confession came to you like a cool breeze blowing in a sweltering summer. He told you he was gay, that he had no interest in you as a woman. You didn't feel let down so much as you felt relieved that the illusion had vanished before it could take root.

From that moment, you were freed from the role of the traditional wife and began to see him as a close friend. Your relationship became based on trust and support, not passion or emotion.

One day, you were sitting in your living room in your pajamas. When he returned from work, his eyes roamed the curves of your body as you sat in your pajamas, and he felt a movement inside him that he had never felt before.

"The way your waist slopes like a valley between two mountains of perfection..." he said in a husky voice. "Your body is a symphony of curves that my eyes haven't yet learned how to read. Your breasts are like twin moons rising in my mind's night sky, driving me crazy, as if God created your body to redirect one's inclinations.”