Cuckold!

Take a look at this couple:

The female—I don’t blame you if you’re confused about which one of the two is female. She’s on the right—is a writer who just penned a delightful screed for the New York Times titled, ‘You May Call It Cheating, but We Don’t.’
Ada Calhoun (you’ll notice she didn’t take her so-called husband’s last name) drops this clanger right off:

MY husband and I have been together for 12 years. We talk throughout the day. We like each other a lot in addition to being in love. We plan to be together for the rest of our lives. I feel profoundly lucky.
Yet one night this summer when my husband was out of town, a male friend stopped by for a drink. After our second drink, I kissed him. He started to kiss me back, and then stopped.
“We shouldn’t do this,” he said. “I should leave.” After a few ambivalent minutes, he made his way to the door. He knows and likes my husband, and was afraid, he said, that if things went any further he wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye.
The strange thing, though, is that my husband would not have objected.

After reading that, cast your eyes back to the sad sack on the left in that picture. Perhaps you’ll begin to understand why her “husband” wouldn’t have objected.
Ada, it seems, is quite the adventurous gal:

I’ve always associated adventure with sex. I’d had sex with more than twice as many people as my husband before we met and became immediately exclusive (when we were young by New York standards: 24 and 25). I slept my way around Europe as a teenager, and am sometimes wistful for the ability to leave situations the second they became complicated. To me, countries and boyfriends were similar. You visited, enjoyed the view until you didn’t anymore and then left. A friend once called me a “man-izer.”

In certain states, she’d have been called a “slut-izer.” And dear hubbie? She says:

Because of this, my husband has at times fretted that I might leave him.

Well, no shit. But, the plot thickens …

And yet, being married to someone who likes that you want other people …

Wait, so does Nutless fret about your hyper-sexuality or does he like that you “want” other people? Whatever. It seems, reading on (while promising myself to take a mental scouring shower as soon as I’d finished reading), he’d actually “hooked up” in the past. I guess this makes her various dalliances A-OK, something she strives to convince the reader of.
Look, it’s downright straightforward what’s happening here: Ms. Thang can’t quite believe, after all that numerous uncut European cock, that she’s saddled herself with this pathetic beta-male and so she’s somehow finagled a situation in which she’s free to fuck whomever whenever and somehow, hubbie doesn’t mind. (Or Else!) In fact, he likes it!
How avant-garde!
That, or how utterly wretched. Yeah, I’ll go with wretched. This is what happens in an ultra-feminized society. One in which the marauding power of an objectively ugly—body and soul—woman is so obscenely outmatched by the piddling manhood of her “husband.” America, ladies and gentlemen.