“What about him?” I say to my husband angling his phone towards him.

Bran leans over, flicks through the album on Grindr. He stops at the most explicit image. “He’s big.”

“He seems kinda.” I turn the phone sideways, from this angle the guy is even bigger. “Big.”

“Nah.” He flashes me that devilish smile that made my knees weak when we first met five years ago. “Just right.”

I feel guilty for not feeling jealous. All the books I read about non monogamy said jealousy was normal. All I feel is happiness for my husband that he’ll find someone to fulfill a need even my 8-inches of pink plastic with matching leather harness can’t. I’m so proud of him for exploring this side of his sexuality. Does that mean I’m not normal.

He takes my hand, kissing the knuckles. “I’m glad I get to share my first time with you.”

“ I am too.” I kiss him.

“Good,” he smirks. “Because he thought it’d be hot if you watched.”