Toward the end of my self-imposed solitude, I heard the doorbell ring early one evening. I was sat in the TV room with a nearly empty bottle of scotch...in one hand and the TV remote in the other. I was not really watching some inane rubbish that was on the large monstrosity my dear wife had insisted we buy, as I drunkenly cursed her, her father and everyone else who fucking knew her. Hoping beyond hope that it was my wife returning to me so she could explain it had all been a mistake and she. Fiona helped spread lotion on Kim and Sandy while I took care of Cathy and then we did each other’s backs. The next time the waiter came back, we were all lying on our stomachs. As I expected, Kim the exhibitionist was the first to roll over and order more drinks. The waiter’s eyes were riveted to her exposed chest. This time he stammered a bit and as he turned to leave I could tell he had a lump in his pants. ‘You’re so mean Kim,’ exclaimed Cathy. ‘That poor kid’s going to have to go jack. More

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