The Smiths

I still remember the day I met my wife Lily. It was a steamy summer evening and I was performing at the Thunder from Down Under male revue in Las Vegas. The show had just ended and I was heading backstage when I saw the most stunning woman I'd ever laid eyes on. She had long chestnut hair, piercing green eyes, and curves in all the right places. I was immediately smitten.

"Excuse me miss, but you look like you could use a drink," I said with my most charming smile. I was young, confident, and had the rock hard abs of a Greek god. Flirting was second nature to me.

She giggled. "Why thank you kind sir. I'm Lily. And you are?"

"Raymond, but call me Ray. Beautiful name for a beautiful lady." I handed her a vodka tonic, tactfully sliding my fingers against hers. "So what brings a pretty thing like you to our humble little strip club?"

"Oh you know, same old same old. My friend Jenna was draggin' me out and this was the only place she could get a table at short notice. I'm more of a whiskey girl myself but this'll do," she said in a lilting southern accent.

I knew right then and there that I was a goner. We talked for hours, drank way too much, and ended up back at her hotel room where we shagged like rabbits in heat. I woke up the next morning, my head pounding, my sheets are soaked with other people's fluids, and her perfect body naked against mine. I knew I'd found the one.

We got married two months later. I was 22 and she was 19. We were young, in love, and out of our minds. We blew through my modest savings in record time living the high life. Fancy dinners, top shelf booze, designer duds - we spared no expense.

But as the years passed, the novelty of our whirlwind romance started to wear off. The bills piled up. We fought constantly about money. I worked my arse off and now we are doing a Residency at the Bachelorette capital of the world Nashville, Tennessee. Then Lily had her brilliant idea.

"I can't believe I didn't think of it sooner," she said one night as we shared a joint and watched reality TV. "With a body like mine, we could make a fortune online. I'm talking millions baby."

I was skeptical at first. But she was right. Her onlyfans account blew up. Men went wild for her naughty nurse and naughty schoolgirl pics and vids. The money started rolling in faster than we could spend it.

"You're a bloody genius," I said as I watched her video go live, my cock swelling in my jeans.

It wasn't long before we were rolling in it. We bought a sick penthouse, a Lamborghini, went on lavish vacations. We thought we'd never stop climbing the status ladder.

But the higher you fly, the harder you fall. Lily's account was shut down for being too explicit. Her Instagram was deactivated for violating guidelines. We were suddenly broke as a joke.

That's when we had to get creative to afford our rock star lifestyle. I wasn't proud of what we started doing to the other residents at The Bedford Springs. The little old ladies who I'd "accidentally" flash when I was working on my tan. The rich cougar wives I'd seduce by the community pool.

Lily still gets requests from single men in the neighborhood. They have no idea they're being catfished, that they're paying for the privilege of sexting with the hottest milf in Hendersonville.

We afford our home by shaking what we got!