At home I would occasionally try it on with my wife, only to be quickly rebuffed and resort to a wank on the toilet instead. Initially my wanks always...consisted of imagining fucking my favourite actress, or someone similarly untouchable. Very occasionally I would toss off over Anne, the one and only girl I’d had an innocent little fling with at Uni. But even then, our little affair only amounted to a couple of dates in the movies, a kiss a cuddle and a grope. As a c***dhood sweetheart, my wife. It was all part of the entrapment. Thinking back, I probably should have been worried about these thoughts and the use of words I hadn’t really known before, vulgar or otherwise, but it seems so trivial now. All my attention was focused on the confused look of undefined desire that was firmly planted on my sister’s face.She looked at Mommy and me, and I knew she could only see what she was prepared to. That’s how no one had been able to see how huge my tummy had been his morning. She walked in. More

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