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Trish couldn’t sleep. It was gone two and she had work the next day but somehow she just couldn’t unwind. Harry lay there like a balustrade, inert and snoring. She cuddled up to him, her hands slipping down his hairy belly and between his legs, with out thinking reaching for his penis. It was flaccid. She let go of him and rolled onto her back trying to clear her mind.

She had had a bust up with Jenna, her step daughter, earlier that day, well yesterday now, about seeing boys. In the heat of the moment she had called her a slag and now, in the small hours, she regretted it. She wasn’t a slag, she was just an average sixteen year old, finding out about life and making her own mistakes. She had been lucky with Jenna really. A lot of women find it difficult to get on with their step daughters, especially when they are teenagers. But, the odd argument aside, they had always got on well.

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