Plimsoll Stories

The dining room of our suburban semi on a sprawling modern housing estate was dark, with the curtains closed despite it only being mid-morning on a bright October Friday. I’d taken the day off work for what I was going to experience at the hands of my fifty-one-year-old wife. I wanted it. I craved it with an almost all-consuming need, even more than Elspeth wanted to do it to me. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t nervous, esp...