I read an article the other day about a woman wanting to fast track her way to fame by creating a sex tape. Unfortunately this seems to be something that fame seekers believe, that something so private and personal would put you in the limelight. Well, it works a lot of the time, but that’s what they’re known for right? Laying on their back to elevate their fame. Whatever works for them…
Then it got me thinking…
My perfect sex tape would take place in the lounge, as not to wake the children upstairs and down the hall.
I’d have just showered (unrealistic due to the timing but it’s just a dream afterall). We’d snuggle up on the sofa, perhaps with a glass of wine, no, definitely with a glass of wine (or tea in the winter).
Candles would be flickering in the background as Mr Firstooth lands a kiss.
Then a baby would wake up. The end.
Just kidding, I’d lay my head in his chest, pick up the remote, and put Made in Chelsea on. We’d ignore eachother for the rest of the evening. It would be amazing. I wouldn’t want to spend my evenings any other way.
That would be the story of our sex tape. You didn’t think there’d really be sex did you? There’s no time for that nonsense! Supposedly were in our ‘prime years’, but let’s be honest, we’re parents now, that’s an instant mood killer. An evening of digging deep into a family bag of Milkybar buttons, watching TV, sipping tea (or wine depending on the day) is much more appealing. Really this is the story of our usual evenings, when all the stars are aligned, all the babes are asleep, and it’s perfect.
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