Hot bedding

In an effort to deter the wagging tongues of small minded England I persuaded the lovely Rachel from London an old friend of mine from University days who is currently between husbands to come and help us out with a bit of positive propoganda. I figured if they saw Rachel coming in and out of our compact and bijou residence they would stop thinking that Rory and I are two old tarts, shirt lifters. Instead they'd be jealous thinking that we're playboys on the pull getting all the hot girls.
OK Rachel is about my age 46, so she's no cat walk model, but she is cute in a middle aged, mum of two grown up children, sort of way. So to celebrate her recent divorce Rachel, Rory and I attacked a bottle of Jack. Well we thrashed that sucker within a millimetre of it's life. Alright we killed it. With the empty bottle still spinning on the coffee table we staggered up to bed.
Wondering what to do now we were alone, Rachel and I decided we'd play "Scrabble" in bed a bit, after a while we changed the game to crazy golf improvising the stick and the balls. Then exhausted after a few rounds we fell into an alcohol induced sleep.
It's great being "gay".