It took some explaining. I'm not sure I'll ever forget the way my son's expression changed from curiosity over the whereabouts of his girlfriend, to seeing her bare-arsed across my knee with my spunk peppering her very pink flesh. And his mother standing alongside us, her palm a similar shade to Molly's bottom. “I'm serious, Dad. What the fuck is this?” I'd never heard him use that particular cuss word in front of me befo...

Whoever invented the phrase 'you can't have your cake and eat it too' is wrong. Like many well-intentioned proverbs or ideals, the internet has killed it off. I love having my wife-shaped cake. Delicious. Dependable. Comforting. Like a Victoria sponge. Her reinvigorated, voracious sexual appetite in response to Molly upsetting our domestic balance has added an extra layer of cream, and she'd be the first to admit the emer...

It was the perfect weather for what I had planned: overcast, a soft drizzle falling like whispers. The streets were calm, hushed—an eerie contrast to the storm unfurling inside me. Each step I took sent the sharp click of black heels echoing off the wet concrete, trailing heat up my spine. Or maybe that heat was from what I wasn’t wearing. The trench coat clung to my body, cinched tight at the waist, guarding the secret b...

Sitting in the late afternoon sun, leaning back against the wall of the pub, Caroline looked absolutely in her element. not because of the location, but the presence of the sun and her burnished skin. It's the sort of thing doctors advise against these days; we're all supposed to wear a hat, slap on some factor 75 and hide from the rays. Caroline was from a generation that grew up without such fears. With her black hair a...

After my wife discovered I hadn't been entirely honest with her about what happened with Molly in the car, things changed at home. She still doesn't know the extent of what went on, and I'm confident in my head that I’ve stayed strong—alright, ish—and haven't cheated on her. Though I guess it depends on the definition of ‘cheating’. To date, my son's girlfriend has cavorted herself in front of me, flashed me, let me shave...

Isaac hadn’t planned to spend his post-grad summer chauffeuring strangers through the tangled veins of Los Angeles, but with no callbacks from design firms and his checking account bleeding out, Uber was an easy concession to inertia. A month in, the routine had dulled him to a sleepwalk: strangers in, strangers out, always quiet, always forgettable. He barely remembered faces, let alone names. The car became a confession...

The day of our vacation had finally arrived. The plane ride to the resort was torturous. After a three-hour delay, Mom and I were finally on our way, yet due to the choppy weather, there was turbulence for the whole flight there. "Ugh, I can't wait to finally be on land," I complained. I had hoped to catch some sleep while flying since we had to arrive at the airport before dawn, but the turbulence had me on edge and wide...

If there was a prize for the highest number of inappropriate thoughts about my son’s girlfriend, I'd be on the podium. As I potter in the garden in the most pleasant British summer since the last one, I'm acutely aware of Molly watching me from the patio. All three of them are there—Molly, Aaron and Astrid—sipping drinks and chatting. Digging up yet another dandelion and hearing the pop of the tap root snapping rather tha...

True to her word, my son's girlfriend put on a hell of a show for me last night. I've been a wreck all day replaying the sounds of them fucking in the room adjacent to ours, knowing that she knew I was listening. Unlike Friday night, where she'd been a little reserved with stifled moans and murmurs, last night she was very vocal. Very. “Oh baby, do you like my little bare slit? Isn't it pretty? I shaved it all for you. Go...