Dave rolled off of his wife of thirty years and swore. He looked at his saggy-breasted old lady and curled his lip. They had remained true to each other since they had wed, but the passion had long since faded.

"Bloody hell, Fran. I think from your frigid manner you must rub cold cream up your muff every night."

This was not the first time ther husband had criticised her about their routine lovemaking. She had just about heard enough from the bastard.

"Is that right? Well, from your performance, I'm guessing that you apply vanishing cream on your prick!"