No strings = good things

According to some sources, if you haven’t met your husband by the age of forty then you might as well just lie down and die. 

Thing is, I don’t actually want a husband. Husbands are just another mouth to feed, more pots to wash and more tidying up to do. Plus, I don’t particularly relish the prospect of being poked awake by an erect penis every morning for the rest of my life. 

No, what I really want is a completely hassle/risk free sexual liaison that has mutual benefits and is on agreeable terms - no emotional head-fuck and no extra ironing pile. Easy.

I know, in an ideal world, we’d all be married to amazing princes who were also amazing fathers and who did their fair share and then some, they’d treat us to new shoes every weekend, make us feel beautiful every day and even put the toilet seat down. 

But in real life, more than half of marriages end in divorce and a worrying amount involve domestic violence, oppression and result in horrific deaths. Hardly a positive advertisement is it?

Besides, being a single mum takes a hell of alot of juggling – to throw a full-time man into the middle of all that would just completely obliterate my equilibrium to smithereens. Historically, the impact it has had on the family dynamics has rarely been a particularly pleasurable one. 

Nope, I don’t need a ready made husband/father; I need a ‘pop-up’ lover.  

I don’t need a husband reminding me it’s time to hit old age; I need a lover who makes me feel twenty-one again. I don’t want a text asking me if its meat and potato pie for tea, I want a text asking me what colour knickers I’m wearing.  

I want clandestine, seduction, playfulness and fun. 

And in my particular case, that’s exactly what I get.