Bless them. They had their first baby three months ago, and this was the first time they’ve spent alone together since. We should be kind.
I picture the two of them in a hotel room, watching said porn. Emma drifting off and Jason …
‘Sounds great!’ you say. ‘We should book it; have a weekend away. What do you think, Soph?’
‘Fine by me!’ I say.
‘You must try the strawberry margarita,’ Emma says. ‘Best cocktail I’ve ever had.’
I knew she hadn’t watched the porn.
The hotel has everything they promised, though the gin fizz is better than the strawberry margarita. When we’ve put our bags down in the room, you flick the TV on, and sure enough – free porn!
But the carpet is covered with random words, and you make me pick one – I choose ‘sign’ – and then you scrawl ‘Free porn’ on the back of the room service menu, tell me to strip, and make me stand, naked, in the window, holding the sign you’ve made for thirty minutes, while you lie on the bed and drink a glass of red.
And then you fuck me against the glass, because you’re not a man to break your promises.
Over the course of the weekend, the action in the window varies. You make me wank, you order me to suck your cock, you press my face to the cold pane while you stick your dick in my arse.
We take breaks to head down to the bar. I rank the cocktails. The gin fizz is better than the strawberry margarita, the strawberry margarita is better than the negroni.
It’s a good hotel. And there’s free porn.
But we’re making it; not watching it.