Wendy was angry with herself for not dealing with the issue faster. The washing machine had broken down a week ago, the repairman a short balding, smelly piece of useless manhood, was big on promises but delivered nothing apart from frustration and a broken washing machine. She now sat at the kitchen table with a glass of Chardonnay in a loose top and “daisy duke” type jean material shorts and little else as her underwear...

I was woken by the ring of my mobile which was on the table next to the bed, I looked at the alarm clock, its' red display was telling me it was forty-five past two in the morning. I looked at the phone, it was the wife calling. She was out for the evening with a couple of friends, all the same type, happy when being wined dined danced, and fucked but not always in that order. However, two of the three had settled down a...