I was attending a family gathering last year to celebrate my grandmother’s 90th birthday in her big Victorian house. During the course of the day, I saw my uncle John go down to the basement. I didn’t think anything of it until I saw Becky open the door and go down a few minutes. Becky
On Friday, Valentine’s Day, I went out with Tommy. I felt bad about Daddy, home alone. The last woman he’d slept with that I know of (besides me), was Mrs. Trefethen, who was married anyway. He said it didn’t matter, that Valentine’s didn’t mean anything to him, but I think he was just encouraging me
Christ was my life a mess, there I was, forty years old, my wife had buggered off with my best friend and his wife blamed me for it. My Company had made me redundant and though the redundancy money was more than generous it did not make up for over twenty years of loyalty that
Norma Adams never wanted to cheat, and certainly never would have cheated with her husband’s father, who everyone called Gramps Adams, but the man gave her no choice. Rape might be the correct definition of what happened, but uncontested rape in Adams eyes is simply fucking, and a wife can’t charge her husband’s father or
Polly and I have had a good marriage for four years now, although lately she’s been hinting about starting a family. Oh, I want one as well, but I think we must be sure we can afford one. I’m making a decent salary at this stage, but we just bought a house and I’m not