Letter From Milo: Sex Fiends

February 21st, 2021

Don’t get me wrong. In no way do I promote, endorse or condone extra-marital sex. Nor do the editors and publishers at The Third City espouse fornicating, carnal frolicking or free-form fucking outside of the chains of holy, civil or common-law matrimony.

Marriage is a deal, after all, a legally binding contract wherein the party of the first part swears to love, honor and sometimes obey the party of the second part. There is nothing in the marriage contract, as far as I know, about a party of the third part.

That said, some married men simply can’t help themselves when it comes to sex. They seem to be in eternal rut, prowling the streets like feral dogs, sniffing at every hydrant or tree, desperate to pick up the trail of a woman, any woman. They will do anything, go anywhere, pay any price to get laid, even though most married men have a perfectly adequate piece of ass waiting at home.

A few years ago, a cabal of married sex fiends held a secret meeting in Mokena, Illinois to address mutual concerns. This group of drooling lechers, which included Michael Douglas, David Duchovny and Tiger Woods, came up with a devilish plan to legitimize their extra-marital activities.

They pooled their considerable resources, hired Bill Clinton as an emissary and sent him, along with two suitcases filled with cash, on a top-secret mission to the American Medical Association. Several months later, the AMA announced that hyper-sexual activity was no longer considered simply bad behavior. It was now a legitimate medical condition known as “Sex Addiction.”

imagesBig Bill pioneered a way for philanderers to get away with cheating….

At the stroke of a pen, philanderers all over the world were given the green light to cheat on their wives. It was like they had visited Lourdes and been absolved of all sin, blame and responsibility, now and forever.

This sea change in cheaters’ lives led to a staged event known as the “Sex Addict’s Press Conference.” This is a ridiculous charade in which a celebrity, usually an actor or athlete who has been caught cheating on his wife, stands in front of a crowd of reporters and blatantly lies about the remorse he feels for sleeping with dozens of beautiful women.

“It wasn’t my fault,” the celebrity says, with a smirk on his face. “My agent, I mean, my doctor tells me I have a disease called Sex Addiction. I’m thinking about going into rehab for a day or two.”

The AMA has done its work well. A lot of betrayed women actually take their husbands back. The AMA has convinced these women that tossing their cheating men out in the street would be an act of inhumane cruelty. After all, the man wasn’t actually unfaithful to her, he was just in the grip of a terrible disease.

There is one marital transgression, however, that money, AMA bullshit or a dozen trips to Lourdes cannot fix. It is an act of treachery so heinous, so cold-blooded, that no woman will ever forget it or forgive it.

Never, ever, get caught screwing one of your wife girlfriends. It’s the absolute worst mistake you can make.

Now, I’ll admit I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life. In fact, I’ve probably made more mistakes than a dyslexic high school dropout trying to do the Sunday New York Times crossword puzzle with a leaky fountain pen. But the one mistake I’ll never admit, heh, heh, is sleeping with one of the lovely Mrs. Milo’s girlfriends.

Oh, sure. The opportunities have been there. Mrs. Milo, after all, does have quite a few good looking girlfriends. And some of them, fortunately, were born with the slut gene. Still, that is a line I, ah, refuse to cross.

Sure, I’ve been tempted more times than I care to mention. For example, when Steve Ivcich is out of town, teaching one of his renowned acting classes, I’ve considered grabbing my Barry White CDs, picking up a bottle of wine and stopping by to visit his vixenish wife, Cathy.

indexHere’s a romance hint from Milo: You can’t go wrong with the great Barry White….

Or when my good friend and poker buddy, Keith, is away on business, the thought has occurred to me to drop by his place and perhaps borrow a cup of sugar from his sexy and voluptuous wife, Sarah.

And when Andy Bell is working late at the law firm, I sometimes give brief consideration to visiting his lovely wife, Janice, just to see how her garden is growing.

I’ve even thought about stopping by…


This is Mrs. Milo. I just passed by the computer, saw what Milo was writing and chased him away from the keyboard with the can of pepper spray I keep handy for occasions like this. I can’t believe some of the crap he writes. It’s laughable to think that any of my friends would have anything to do with a creepy old lecher like him. Most of them have much better taste in men than that. Matter of fact, if any of them want Milo, they’re more than welcome to him. They can keep him if they like. They’d be doing me a huge favor by taking him off my hands. I don’t know what I ever saw in him. Jeez, what a loser he turned out to be.

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