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 stud
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.
My first story with Total-E-Bound comes out in January - entitled Starting Over. If you can't wait until then to feast on my wonderful, brilliant, sort of average sense of humour - you can find more about me at