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Two guys in the locker room were talking after our hockey game last Tuesday. About a pillow. Of all things. By the time I'd tied my shoes I had one in my Amazon cart. ======== I'm David. 47. Married to Sarah for nineteen years. I play in a beer league hockey on Tuesday nights. Have for 12 years. Eight guys on the team. Most of us in our 40s and 50s. We win some, we lose more, we drink a beer in the parking lot after every game. The locker room is small. Cinder block walls. Two benches. Smells like every beer league locker room ever has smelled. Conversation in there is the same conversation guys have had for decades. Trash talk. The game. Work. Beer. In 12 years I had never heard a single guy in that locker room say anything serious about his marriage. Last Tuesday two of the guys, Mark and Greg, were sitting on the bench across from me peeling off pads, having a conversation that was not the usual conversation. I caught it about thirty seconds in. ======== Here is what I had been carrying into that locker room for the last year. Sarah and I had been okay. We were a team. Two kids in their teens. Decent rhythm. Sex had become a Saturday-night thing if we both had energy. Maybe once a week. Some weeks not. I had not been miserable. I had been quietly disappointed for a long time. I had tried things. Books. Date nights. Slowing down. Speeding up. Asking what she wanted. Sarah always met me halfway. Sex was fine. It just was not what it had been at 30. I had assumed that's how marriage at 47 with kids and jobs works. Some weeks. Some not. Polite. Steady. I had stopped expecting more. Then I sat on the wrong bench in the wrong locker room and overheard something I needed to overhear. ======== Mark was 52. Married 24 years. Two kids in college. He was saying to Greg, "Sarah won't shut up about this thing now. I am being serious. I bought it as a joke six months ago and now we're having more sex in a week than we had in the entire previous year." Greg said "shut up." Mark said "I am not lying to you, brother. It's a positioning pillow. Twenty-seven degree angle. Some kind of pelvic geometry thing. I do not know the science." Greg said "and your wife?" Mark said "my wife who had not initiated in the last decade has woken me up three times in the last two weeks. Three times." Greg laughed. "What is it called." Mark said "Moodie. Or something. I'll text you. Hundred and thirty bucks. Best money I have ever spent." I was tying my left skate at this point. I switched to my right skate and pulled out my phone in the same motion. Found it. Added to cart. Did not check out yet because I wanted to look like I wasn't listening. Walked out of the locker room ten minutes later, sat in my truck, and clicked buy. ======== Here is what I read about it on the drive home. When a woman lies flat, her pelvis tilts forward. Her pelvic floor stays tense. Her sensitive tissue compresses against itself rather than getting stimulated. She gets a fraction of the contact her body is built for. After 40 the gap widens because tissue elasticity drops. The pillow tilts her hips at 27 degrees. Her pelvic floor relaxes. Her tissue rotates forward. The contact is direct. She gets the response her body has been built for and missing. That's the whole thing. I read that and pulled into my driveway and sat in the truck for another minute thinking about how Mark, who I had played hockey with for eight years, had never once mentioned anything serious about his marriage and apparently had been having more sex this year than he'd had in his entire 24-year marriage. I started thinking about how many other guys on the team were probably also not telling each other about their marriages. It is wild what guys do not say to each other. ======== The Moodie Comfort Pillow holds her at 27 degrees. Medical-grade memory foam. Doesn't compress under body weight. Non-slip base. Looks like bedroom décor. It arrived Saturday. Plain box. Slid it under the bed. That night I positioned it under Sarah during foreplay. She gave me a half-second look that meant "what is this" and then she let her body settle into the angle. About four minutes later her face changed in a way I had not seen since our 30s. She finished hard. Quickly. With a sound I had not heard since before our second kid was born. Afterward she said "okay you have to tell me what that was." I said "comfort pillow. I read about it." She said "we are using that every single time." We have. Six months and counting. ======== I want to say something to the guys who play in beer leagues, work in offices, run errands on Saturdays. We do not talk to each other about this stuff. We are sitting next to each other in locker rooms and parking lots silently struggling with the same thing. Mark figured it out. He told Greg. Greg told the next guy. I overheard the chain by accident. You don't have to overhear it. You can just buy one. Moodie offers a 100-night money-back guarantee. If your wife isn't initiating within the first month, send it back. You pay nothing. ======== 👉 Try The Moodie Comfort Pillow Risk-Free: 💝 100-Night Money-Back Guarantee. Try it, then decide 📐 The 27-Degree Angle. Designed for maximum connection 🧠 Medical-Grade Memory Foam. Doesn't flatten or shift 🛋 Discrete Design. Looks like bedroom furniture 📦 Discreet Shipping. Plain box, no one knows 👉 trymoodie.com/products/moodie-comfort-pillow ======== P.S. I told Mark on the next Tuesday I'd ordered one. He grinned. "Welcome to the team, brother." I haven't told Greg yet. Greg's still asking Mark questions every Tuesday. Greg's going to figure it out.