Parental guidance rated fun

As discussed last week, my sex frequency has increased exponentially, and my growing reputation for debauchery has been temporarily put on hold.

All is well with me except the realisation that in one week term will be over. The holidays represent an Everest-like challenge for me and my sex drive. I found three days of abstention hard enough - 35 is just ridiculous. No, it’s not going to happen.

So the boyfriend is coming to Paris. The ultimate booty call. A trans-Channel, trans-national male import.

Meeting the parents, admittedly not as chaotic as the film, is nevertheless a daunting experience. As a teenager, I brought several boys into my home. They were always met by the most critical jury imaginable. My mother watched them like a hawk, picking out even their most insignificant flaws, my father asserted his male dominance over our household, refusing to acknowledge his little girl’s latest crush.

My boyfriends were always considered too outspoken, too cocky and too self-absorbed. At least until the breakup, after which their presence in my family would be sorely missed. I’d like to think that now that I’m an adult, things will be more simple and less like a trial. But that is doubtful.

For now it will be impossible for my parents to assume that I am still an innocent girl going through a phase. I’ll be bringing home a stubbly-faced, gravelly-voiced, broad-shouldered man, not a skinny squeaky boy. Let the fun begin.

The golden rule of my house is that boys sleep in the basement with the spiders. It doesn’t matter who they are or what their potential relationship with me is - they have to dwell two floors below me, separated by endless closed doors and creaky stairs. Unsupervised communication is forbidden after dark and unannounced parental disturbances occur frequently.

However, my boyfriend is not travelling under oceans and across nations for a week of Parental Guidance rated fun. Paris is the city of love and I fully intend to make the most of couple-dom whilst he is there.

I’m sure many of you are experienced in the art of parental avoidance. We shall attempt all the clichéd ways of getting the house to ourselves and of finding alternative locations.

I could openly disobey my parents and tell them that I am an adult and wish to be treated as one. However, they scare me, and the element of misbehaving will make the sex so much better. So provided my parents are still stuck in their traditional beliefs, I will enjoy some exciting nookie and live the better of two worlds.

And in the meantime, I can stock up on sex during Week 10 to help myself survive the bleakness of the holidays.

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