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How the Olympics Can Improve Your Sex Life

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S&M has never featured highly in my marriage.

The issue came up this morning during a discussion with my wife about the "50 Shades of Grey" phenomenon when she declared emphatically "if you trussed me up, I'd be off". I reminded her that technically speaking this was not true as she would be trussed up.

This week also I have seen her attention taken away from me by a series of young, good looking, powerful and often rich young men with chiselled bodies so well defined that they resemble an anatomy book without the labels. Throwing the imaginative fire power of "50 Shades" into the mix, I have become concerned that the temptations could be extreme.

Take this afternoon. Doing some light gardening as is my role in life, the peace of the day was shattered by excited screaming from my wife, punctuated by the occasional "yes...yes...yes...", "oh my God", "oh wow" and more superlatively "of wow, f*king wow" like a crazed nymphomaniac.

I basked in the sound, dreaming what the neighbours were thinking, but knowing in my heart of hearts that my wife was being entertained by two other men.

I swept through the door of the lounge, my beautifully etched half naked body (it was hot) glistening in the afternoon light as the intensity of my eyes bored down into my wife who lay expectantly on the lounge sofa.

"It's 5-3 in the 3rd set"

I turned to view the cool Swiss and glum Scot battle it out for the second time, and knew that I had been edged out again.

It has been like this all week.

Wall to wall BBC coverage has caused such a weight of sport to be on the TV that when I suggest to my wife that we have an early night, she replies "Yes let's, it's the Graeco Roman wrestling semi-final on BBC".

I had it out with her concerning the Swimming. She ventured that she would love to feel the bodies of a couple of male swimmers, to appreciate their definition - there would be nothing more than that. (I fear the same would not be a valid defence if it was me and a couple of female swimmers).

When I saw the rowing at Eton Dorney, I accepted that she had a point during the medalling of the Men's Coxless Fours. It was apparent that these teams were far from coxless as they strove to podium. Indeed, their collection of genetically modified fruit and vegetables contained within their lycra wrapping has I am sure created such a feeling of inferiority as to cause every red blooded male in Great Britain to reach for the fruit bowl for some assistance.

There was also a frisson of excitement among the women of my household noticing that one of the American team was in my wife's words "ready for action". She neglected to say what he was readying himself for action for although he did have the makings of an ample fruit salad.

I have decided that I need to turn the tables this week in order to grab my wife's attention for the remaining Olympic week. Baron Pierre de Coubertin believed that the most important thing in the Olympic Games is not the winning but the taking part. This, I believe is where I have gone wrong. I should have been "Going for Gold".

My secret weapon is therefore a recording of the cheers of the crowd during Mo Farrah's 10,000 Gold Medal performance (in case our duration is longer than the normal which would be covered by Jessica Ennis' final 800 metre winning race), followed by the National Anthem.

The Union Jack will fly high above Pickwick towers this week - that is unless Team GB has more Medal performances in which case, to quote Dick Dastardly "drat, drat and double drat".