Inflamed by the casual profanity

Uptight middle-class couples indulge in the ultimate taboo in the bedroom and pretend they’re common. These are six of their darkest fantasies:

Susan Traherne: “I borrow money from an ex until payday”
I pretend I’m a single mother with six children who fails to plan ahead financially. At the end of the month I’m out of cash and the kids need crisps and energy drinks, so I borrow £80 from an ex – my husband, wearing a shell suit – and am so grateful I have sex with him in his housing association flat out of sheer gratitude.

Sophie Rodriguez: “I get a full house at bingo”
He’s calling off the numbers and I’m marking them one by one using a dabber I bought off eBay. The tension is mounting with each one, we’re exchanging glances and fully aroused. When I finally shout ‘Bingo!’ he tells me I’ve not only won £125 in Matalan vouchers but his heart, and he takes me backstage, bends me over a folding table and does me.

Julian Cook: “I’m a plumber, she works at Greggs”
She’s got the branded polo, hairnet and apron on. I walk in, van parked on double-yellows, and order a sausage roll. She asks if I want vegan, I say ‘Do I look like a fucking media studies lecturer?’ and we’re both inflamed by the casual profanity. After I give her a good seeing-to in the back of the shop I hand her a fiver and tell her to keep the change and she does.

Carolyn Ryan: “I haggle at a car boot sale”
I’m seated on a nasty little folding chair behind a table of tat when a man asks how much for a tea-towel of Filey. I tell him a quid and he huffs and puffs and counters with an offer of 30p. I tell him jog on. He raises it to 50p and tells me I drive a hard bargain, we exchange goods, he sweeps the table clear and shags me on it then we drink strong tea from a flask.

Tom Booker: “I win the World Darts Championship”

I’m wearing the shiny top playing the deciding game at Ally Pally in front of a baying, drunken crowd. I hit all the right numbers, win the top prize and my wife fellates me while wearing a beer bottle costume. I used to start this fantasy with walk-on music, but my wife suggested it was too indulgent and was having an adverse effect.

Stephen Malley: “We fake genuine interest in other people”
My barrister wife and I pretend to be poor commoners meeting in a public house. The kinky aspect is that we show real interest in each other, rather than bragging about our careers, children’s educational achievements and property portfolios. It gets primal and leads to carnal engagement. We can’t tell our friends, they’re not as open-minded as we are.

The Daily Mash

Of course.

A perfect excuse (as if any were needed, really) to play this:

Pulp - Common People