‘Don’t tell me. You have embarked on another affair?’ my sister Trisha says as she sits across from me, piercing a breaded mushroom with a fork like the poor thing has offended her as much as I have.

I snap a breadstick and imagine it is Trisha’s neck. She’s an arrogant cunt.

I watch her swirl her mushroom in the tiny pot of garlic mayonnaise and fleetingly I wonder if her love of mushrooms is because Richard her husband possesses a mushroom dick.

Richard is a dick. He is a navy-blue suit teamed with a pink shirt type of tosser. He wears cufflinks as well. Gold plated.

Trisha pops a mushroom in her mouth, and I hope it is going to burn her, and right on cue, all the juices of the hot breaded mushroom explode, causing her to spit it out.

I nibble my breadstick and think to myself, ‘I bet you spit out Richards cum, that’s assuming that you suck dick.’

Instead, I hand her my serviette as back up for all this hot, shit in her mouth. My sister is vile. But I am meant to be benevolent, so I am going along with it. The CBT route.

‘You always get caught, Briony, that is the bit I don’t understand. Of course, as a family, we have always been aware of your hedonistic attitude to life and freedom of speech about sexuality and whatever stuff you write about in your blog. ‘

‘Women’s rights.’ I say as I finish my breadstick. I am dreading the next course of food because Trisha’s comments have caused my stomach to twist so tightly with anxiety that my insides possess one tiny hole to fill.

I watch as Trisha pushes her plate away and folds her arms.

‘Women’s rights? Look, you have been looked after by your husband, much more than the rest of us. Richard is nowhere near as successful as Lucas. He never has been, but what did I do? I knuckled down. Marriage is work, Briony.’

‘He doesn’t look after me, does he. That’s the point, Trisha.’

Trisha laughs, ‘Oh come on, of course he does. Lucas is dedicated; we can all see that. He worships the ground you walk on.  Plus, he is a fabulous father, Millie and Jaxon adore him.’

‘Lucas has erectile dysfunction, Trisha. So don’t fucking say that my husband looks after me. Clearly, he doesn’t. So yes, I am having an affair. Another, as you so eloquently put it, and I am not here to fight my cause in anyway, just some understanding wouldn’t go amiss.’

The waiter comes over and takes away our plates, and he is younger than me, but I can’t help but look at his crotch area. I do that all the time. I smile at men, but I have already checked out their dick area before they even stand in front of me. I have a cockdar.

The waiter isn’t especially attractive, but I wonder if he could clear up my sexual needs as fast as he efficiently cleans up the other table around us. I reckon he would clean me up in the bedroom.  I wonder if his young cock would like to shoot cum all over my face and tits.

I am taken out of my momentary sexual reverie by Trisha’s snort, ‘Oh, it isn’t like you to not be partaking in a cause, Briony, I think a quarter of them don’t exist and a hundred percent of them live inside your own head. Just because Lucas doesn’t want sex every minute of every day doesn’t mean he has erectile dysfunction.’

My sister has never been good at maths.

I feel the need for a cigarette, a stiff drink or some heavy-duty drugs. However, I am determined to be well. Do well…..  but Trisha’s comments about Lucas have pissed me off. They all know I am trying to stay clean.

The second course arrives. I have chosen a nice big rump steak, chips and a dash of peppercorn sauce that is served in a wonderful jug. I pour that beautiful sauce all over, like I am pouring cum all over the tits of my cow of a sister.

Trisha has chosen a wild salmon with a side salad dressed with some bullshit mixed up olive oil. I doubt it contains chilli.

I could tell Trisha what her husband has been up to. However, there would be no fun in that. I will wait until we part ways to tell her exactly what dear Richard has been up to.

‘I have affairs Trish because he can’t fuck.’ I say as I slice my knife into my steak.

‘Too much information, Briony,’ Trish replies as she pops what quite clearly is the most orgasmic piece of salmon that has ever passed her lips.

I eat my minuscule portion of my steak and resist the urge to swill it down with champagne.  I can’t hide anymore. I can’t take the easy way out.

‘I came here today to confide in you,’ I push a piece of broccoli around my China white plate.

‘Go on then. What confession have you saved up for me?’  

Trisha loves that salmon. I can’t help but think “I bet you have a fishy cunt.” 

‘No way has Lucas got anything wrong with his penis.’ Trisha adds, like she has some authority on my husband’s cock.

I am confident he isn’t fucking her. I know Lucas has quite an eclectic mix of desires and my sister isn’t one of them.

‘It isn’t about his needs, it is whether he meets mine, that’s the point. So, I am here to confess that, yet again, I am having an affair. I am enjoying it.’

Trisha’s right shoulder moves up to the side of her fat face, ‘Good for you, if ruining your family unit is your thing.’

‘How can you possibly know that Lucas hasn’t got a limp dick?’ I have had enough of my steak, so I push the plate away and fold my arms.

Two sisters in battle.

Trisha looks up and sends me a look of utter disgust. My forthright attitude is too much. I have her in a corner.

‘Have you sucked him off?’ I continue. ‘You always hang around at the barbecue when he is tossing sausages.’ I say as I click my fingers to the waiter who I so desperately want to fuck.

Trisha finishes off the salad and cleans her plate, and looks at me like I have lost my mind.

‘Unlike you, I have standards. I have never felt the need to have an affair.’

‘So, Richard fucks you good?’ I ask as I lean over the table, my fingers clasped in a steeple.

‘Of course, but my sex life is none of your business, Briony.’

I lean back in my chair.

‘I am fucking my intern, the delightful Roddy. He is very accommodating. I don’t just fuck anyone. I like a cock with prospects. Obviously, he is accommodating because if he fucks me over that is his career well and truly fucked. That is how the Silverman’s work is it not?’ I stare at Trisha. We both know that is how life works.’

‘In your world, not in ours.’ Trisha nods at my waiter with an awful air of dismissal. I hate her even more now. How dare she treat my next conquest with such arrogance?

‘My world is fabulous, Trisha. It is quite kaleidoscopic.’

I pause. I am hoping that the heavy weighted pause will have some dramatic effect on my sister as I truly begin to wonder if she is a fucking robot. How can she be so out of touch with her dick of her husband.

I can’t thump her in the face for several reasons, so I go for the psychological punch instead and I will enjoy watching her squirm and the best bit of it all is this is not the piece de la resistance by any means.

‘You do know that is vile.’ Trisha says. ‘You are a married woman.’  She stands up and totters off on her sanctimonious dripping stilettos. She doesn’t slip. Slipping up is only reserved for my good self.

I resist the urge again to summon the waiter I want to fuck over and order a glass of champagne, but this tale must be told, and I am eager to get it done and dusted.

I look out of the window and see a vast field of wildflowers, and I want to run away. However, I am in for a penny and in for a pound. Christ, I could murder a cigarette.

Trisha totters back on her cheap heels and even cheaper dress. Fuck me, she looks like a stuffed sausage and has that smile that I am guessing a pig has before it is slaughtered. She negotiates her fat body into the chair and wipes her mouth, quite unnecessarily, and now I feel like I have a part in The Crown.

A Netflix drama that Meghan would be envious of.

I now want a whole bottle of champagne. I want to punch my left palm with my right-handed fist. That smug face in front of me. A fucked-up tapestry.

Trisha takes a sip of her wine. Folds her arms. ‘Get on with it, Briony. Jesus Christ, the whole family can sense when you need to get something off your chest. Don’t disappoint me now.’

What a dick.  What a fat tea cake faced twat she is. I cannot wait to swipe a healthy lashing of Lurpak all over her face.

I am feeling quite agitated, so all I can do is fold my skirt into pleats and then lean back on my chair yet again. We were told never to do that as children, and Trisha always followed the rules.

‘So last week I fucked Roddy, he slid his nice cock inside me before I was due to prepare a particularly awful paper.  It is called stress relief and seeing as Lucas can’t do it, why can’t I get my cunt pummelled as and when I see fit? If I want cum shot all over my tits as I lower my blouse and go home and lick it’s dried up remnants off my cleavage, who the fuck are you to say it is wrong?’

Trisha looks outside, and I wonder if she sees the same view as me. For a second, I glimpse what can only be described as a whimsical look cross over her face and then bang, gone.

‘Lucas deserves more than your vile behaviour, I know that. Now, if it is okay with you, I am going home. I am sick and tired now of your Fifty Shades of Grey style outbursts.  Is that okay with you?’

‘What about Lucas and his limp dick?’

‘Fiction Briony.’

I watch my cunt of a sister stand up.

‘Are you paying, or shall I?’  Trisha laughs. ‘Oh of course I will, no doubt you have left your card in this fuckwits flat. ‘

I fold up my serviette and put it on my plate, and pick up my handbag, my head is thumping with blood pressure.

I follow Trisha as she pays, and I nod to the beautiful waiter I want to fuck.

Trisha and I reach the perfectly landscaped car park, all white pebbles, a sprinkling of haphazardness on solid tarmac and suddenly my sister shows just an ounce of empathy and sympathy. Love even.

She awkwardly hugs me, and I hug her back and hang on.

She whispers, ‘You will be fine, Briony.’

‘I will be when your husband stops sucking mine off.’ I whisper back

Now I really do need a cigarette.