Babysitting for the wifeswappers This situation came about because we wrote a little fanzine for our Venture Scout group and sold it at the Scout fayre, amidst the gibberish printed within (much like a prototype Yorkshire Soul) was a short note about each of the scouts, under my name was the phrase 'Hung like a Brahma Bull'. Innocent(-ish) fun. Whilst serving drinks at the Red Lion a couple of weeks later, a couple who had bought the zine made reference to the comment, more or less asking me right out if the comment was true or not, I blushed, nothing more was said. Shortly afterwards they asked me if I would babysit for their children, sure, ok, no problem. I arrived at the house, they showed me round, the kids were already in bed. Just before leaving, the husband said he had left some magazines for me to read on the coffee table. When they had gone I looked at the glossy selection, motor magazines, Health & Efficiency (wahey!) and a total result for a teenage boy, Escort. The kids remained in bed, I looked through Escort, towards the back, in the readers wives section, you know I can't be sure because her face is half blacked out, but she doesn't half look like the lady I'm child minding for. They came back, were the kids good ? As gold, never a peep. And the magazines ? Blush, yeah great. Same again next week then ? Sure. The next time, the kids are already in bed, beer and pizza in the fridge, and they've left me a video to watch. It's a home video, they're both in it, sans clothes, and they're really going at it, and, hang on, who's this other bloke, hello, and another woman. There are two or three scenes on the video all featuring my couple and various other people. They return. Kids ok ? Yes. Enjoy the video ? Furious blushing, yes. We chat for a while, she's sitting close to me, I mean really close, but I've got to get home. Now, at 18, I'm young and very naive, although if I was reading this tale now I'd be able to forecast the end, I couldn't then. So, same time next week then ? Sure. I arrive, there's heady smell of something smoky in the sitting room (I didn't recognise the smell of dope). Would I like a beer asks the husband ? Sure. He says his wife is still getting changed. We sit around chatting, open another beer. I ask whether I should go and say good night to the kids, just to let them know I'm here ? No need says the wife from behind me, I turn around, she's wearing a peep hole bra and rubber pants and fishnet stockings. 'The kids are at their grandma's for the night, we're not going out.'