Similarly, when a husband, unexpectedly, brings home company for dinner, or in some other way springs an unpleasant surprise on his wife, she is surely entitled to a bit of vengeance. Why should she permit herself to be stepped on? She could cry and weep but that is not nearly as much fun as imaginative sex. “I’ll get you later tonight,” she smiles sweetly to him. She does, too. It is difficult to know whether to envy the husband or pity him. One thing is certain. When she is finished with him, she will be more than even.

VI. Privacy

You have a right to privacy.

The practice of imaginative sex does not require, any more than the practice of unimaginative sex, that you make your practice public, that you march forth with banners proclaiming your right to invent and participate in sex dramas. If you wish to do so, there is no moral reason you should not do so, but there are practical reasons. Most people will not understand imaginative sex. You will be in a minority, at least until the expansion of the general population’s understanding and acceptance of these matters. You will be roughly in the position of an advocate of family planning in the Twelfth Century. You are well advised to keep your mouth shut and enjoy yourself. History has a way of taking care of itself. These ideas, like any good ideas, by hook or crook, will get around. No one ever need know that you and your wife have contrived sexual marvels for yourselves. To your business associates and neighbors, you may still seem the plain, serious, responsible, down-to-earth, commendably glum folks you always were. “Imaginative sex?” you ask. “What is it?” Indeed, one of the delicious aspects of imaginative sex is that it is your private secret with your wife; it is something that the world would be keenly interested to know but it is your own business, and your secret from them.

On the other hand, should you choose to waive your right to privacy, there could be a charm and openness in doing so. Perhaps it is healthier to do so. I do not really know. Consider the case of masturbation. All men masturbate, and there is nothing wrong with masturbation, but it is not exactly the sort of thing, in this time and place, that one goes about announcing publicly. Indeed, it might even be denied vehemently. If we were differently acculturated we might deny we had bowel movements. Masturbation, incidentally, is often superior to average man-woman sex. It is far inferior, of course, to a sexual experience with an eager, loving woman intent upon mutual delight. It runs a poor second to a sweet fuck with a live wench. It is a cookie as opposed to a banquet. There is nothing wrong with cookies; it is just that banquets are incomparably better.