1. Have a long leisurely bath to wash away aches, pains, grime, dog slobber. Nothing more inclined to get you in the mood than relaxing in hot water. Provided you have more than three inches of hot water. Three inches of anything is no good at all. Yell through door at Daughter for emptying hot water tank.
2. Get out of three inches of bath water after 5 minutes because Son knocks on door to tell you Daughter is using her mobile to call boy in Australia.
3. Confiscate Daughter’s mobile and return to bathroom. Reach for shaving gel to rid legs of wolf-like fur and find Daughter has emptied container. Use Husband’s and empty his. Attempts at being creative with pubic hair fail. Rather than look like dog with mange, try to remove all hair and curl up into prawn shape in tub to get at bits where the sun doesn’t shine. Nearly drown. On the upside, Husband will be thrilled with his Sphynx pussy. Hopefully.
4. Cover body with moisturizing lotion scented with vanilla and coconut – regret that gorgeous hunk not in there with you to apply it. Pick up Daughter’s mobile only for it to slip through your fingers and fall into toilet. Spend next fifteen minutes trying to dry it with hair dryer by which time hair has curled uncontrollably into bird’s nest. Think Condor. Spend thirty minutes taming it into submission.
5. Search for sexy red negligee bought as gift from optimistic Husband a year ago. Discount price explained uncharacteristic purchase. Husband never buys anything full price. Negligee hidden from kids and now missing. While ranting at Daughter, Son admits he took it. Have to sit down when blood rushes from head. Feel marginally better to discover he needed it to strain some science experiment. Hunt through underwear drawer for
sexy skimpy revealing provocative bra and
panties and settle for clean. Put on under dressing gown to await arrival of stud
gorgeous hunk husband.
6. Husband phones to say he’ll be late. AGAIN. Suspect last minute deal is business speak for going for drink with mates. Make use of extra time to persuade, bribe, threaten offspring with no more mother-chauffeured late night pickups if they don’t go out, retire to their rooms, leave their mother the hell alone to tidy, clean, hoover to ensure house resembles normal family home rather than aftermath of Armageddon. After which intend to lie on couch and think sexy thoughts.
7. Distracted by paw prints on kitchen floor. Dog has been allowed back in from muddy yard by Son without having his feet hosed down. Note to self to hose down Son too. His footprints alongside dog’s. Dog currently looking angelic in basket. Suspicious. Find empty packet of cookies underneath him. Clean kitchen floor. Get hot. Take off dressing gown. Freak out neighbor who shouldn’t be putting his garbage out and taking opportunity to look through your window. Might not be so bad if he was stud. Seventy year old doesn’t count. Even if he smiles and has all his teeth.
8. Put dressing gown back on. Open wine. Doesn’t count as drinking alone if dog is with you. Nice doggy. Cut chunk of cheese to nibble. Recline on couch and put small piece of cheese on floor to train dog to wait.
9. Bad doggy. He ate small chunk of cheese AND rest of cheese before leaping on couch. Wrestle with over-excited dog convinced more cheese is hidden somewhere on person. Dressing gown covered with muddy paw prints, wine and slobber. Put dressing gown in washing machine. Ignore pile of ironing and go to bed to practice looking sexy for
gorgeous hunk husband.
10. Switch on ereader to find suitable erotic book. Can read anything, anywhere on this machine and pretend to be immersed in highbrow literature. Wonderful. Wish life was like it is on planet Zog. Endless orgasms, men who know what they’re doing in bed and can keep doing it time after time, no fingers in wrong place, no cramp at inopportune moments, no unfortunate noises, men with two penises. Note to self – look up plural of penis.
Backtrack. Two penises?
Stop thinking and slide fingers down to valley of desolation to REALLY get in the mood. Obliterate idea of two penises from mind and go for two hunks instead. Four hands stroking. Two mouths caressing. Four penises… Oh hell.
Jerked from imminent orgasm by sound of door slamming, briefcase hitting hall floor, keys hitting table, feet pounding upstairs, bathroom door opening, toilet flushing. Throw back duvet and pose as seductive vixen.
Husband bursts into room. “Why’s the tub full of hair? Know why there’s an ambulance next door? Think neighbor has had heart attack? God, I’m shattered. What’s that look on your face? Indigestion? What’s for dinner?”
Sadly not me.
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