What’s to be done? I’m giving son’s girlfriend one!

Dear Gemma, I KNOW it’s the New Year but my wife still hasn’t forgiven me for the Christmas present I bought her.

I thought a 12-inch ‘Black Mamba’ ribbed vibrating love-toy would be the perfect thing to put a bit of spice back into our marriage and a smile back on her face.

She’d been looking knackered the past few months, what with the job and the kids playing up at school and me under her feet having been made redundant.

Then there was all the financial problems to sort out and getting the roof and plumbing fixed; that cost a few quid, and the part-time job she took on to pay for it left her having to do all kinds of juggling to get our dinners on time and the housework done.

All the Christmas shopping took its toll, too, I could tell. She often fell asleep in front of the 42-inch telly I’d asked her to buy, and when I went to bed she was always fast asleep and too tired to perform as a wife should.

So the love aid, which I’d bought from a mate in the pub, should have done the trick and given her a bit of new-found vigour in the bedroom.

It just goes to show how wrong you can be. She blew up, hit me with it and gave me the cold shoulder. How do you please someone like that, eh?

Dear Gemma, I’VE done well for myself and managed to pull an absolute beauty 40 years younger than me.

I’m getting on for the big six-oh, but I’ve kept myself in shape and I’ve still got plenty of hair, even though I have to rinse it with Just For Men quite a bit.

I can still get it up, too, which I barely thought I’d ever need to worry about since the wife left me five years ago, clearing off with a consultant and clearing out my bank account.

Anyway, I spruced up and started going out to pubs and that, tried a few dating sites and even stuck my head in the door of a few nightclubs where all the youngsters hang out these days. That’s where I found this girl. She seemed to be impressed with the semi-drunken shapes I was throwing on the dancefloor and came and joined me.

Stirrings

She’s about five-foot six in her high heels with long wavy brown hair, deep brown eyes and a smile that makes a man’s knees buckle.

That night she was wearing a short, skin-tight minidress which had a plunging neckline, showing off the sort of bosom men of my generation appreciate – full and round.

A slower dance came round and she was happy to snuggle up to me, pressing herself into my groin and letting me see deep down her cleavage. I felt stirrings down below, and I’m pretty sure she did, too, judging by the looks she gave me.

Naturally, I was anxious that any minute some beefy lover of hers would come over and batter me senseless, but nothing happened, and when the dance ended she led me to a quiet spot for a drink and a chat.

She told me that she had a steady boyfriend but he didn’t give her the sort of flattering attention that she liked, polite and gentlemanly attentions that men of my age could give her. Men like me, in fact.

So later that night I took her home and, in a polite and gentlemanly way, gave her the seeing-to of her life.

I’m not one to brag, believe me I’m no Casanova. But over the years I’ve learnt a few things about what women like in bed and used them all on giving this beauty many a climax.

I have to say, it did me a power of good, physically and emotionally, to have a woman so young and fit bucking and groaning beneath me till the dawn, when she gathered her things, kissed me and slipped away, leaving her phone number and a promise to do it all again.

All fine, you might think, till my son called round to see his old dad, bringing his long-term girlfriend with him...her!

Do I tell him, ditch her, or carry on behind his back?

Gerald P, Southampton

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