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Can you spot the carefully hidden reason this couple were able to go mortgage-free at 25?

LAUREN Hewitt and Josh Hudson have just bought a house outright aged 25. Can you work out the clever way they did it besides trivial money ‘hacks’?

‘Getting on the property ladder is easy if you do one thing: stop your wasteful spending. Because not eating 70p avocados is definitely how you raise the best part of 300 grand. 

‘It’s all about making sacrifices, and sadly too many young people today won’t do that. Luckily my parents brought me up to be careful with money. “Cut your coat according to your cloth,” is what my frugal corporate lawyer mum and hedge fund manager dad always told me. 

‘And so Josh and I devised a strict money-saving plan. Making meals at home instead of eating out. Buying items on discount and cutting out non-essentials. You’d be surprised how often you don’t need new headphones or a top, much like when I was a child and my parents said I didn’t need two ponies. 

‘We stopped wasting money on £4.50 lattes and a £12.99 Netflix subscription we barely watched. We both loved foreign holidays, but we agreed we’d tighten our belts and just stay in Josh’s parents’ villa in Gran Canaria. 

‘I’m a terrible clothesaholic, but you can get perfectly good outfits secondhand. “Can I have all those Jigsaw dresses you never wear, and actually those Jimmy Choos?” I asked my mum. A deal was struck, and I agreed to cook dinner that evening. 

‘But I think the hack that really helped us buy a house was checking our finances daily. If there was money owed on my credit card, I’d immediately say “Daddy, can you pay my card off for me again?” That way I avoided paying interest completely.

‘And now, after taking control of our spending and some careful budgeting, we own our home, and my parents are delighted. “Pay back the £285,000 any time,” they said.’

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'How long has it been now?' and other thoughts women have during cunnilingus

BLESS him for trying, but cunnilingus can drag on with no end in sight. Here is what’s running through a woman’s mind when the dreaded erotic situation occurs.

‘Oh no’

Triggered by the slide down the body with a smug look of satisfaction showing what a generous feminist he thinks he is, and that he knows you’re expected to reciprocate. He’s even thinking he’ll sound like a great guy when you tell the girls at brunch. What a truly unselfish act.

‘That ceiling needs repainting’

He’s doing his thing and despite participating in a sexual act you are entirely disconnected and may as well be watching telly in a different room. You look at the ceiling where several damp spots are forming and you suspect the whole area could do with some sprucing up. Sadly he’s thinking the same thing where he is.

‘Is he okay?’

What’s he thinking about? Can he breathe? Does it not taste too too bad? How does it smell? Should I ask? Are we allowed to talk? Am I allowed to whisper or pass a note if I want to communicate with him? What are the rules? Christ, it’s quiet in here.

‘Is that the right place?’

For all his persistence, he’s not really working on the right area and you can only redirect him by squirming awkwardly around the bed, which just makes him adjust position too, back to the wrong bit. You feel like you’re on The Crystal Maze, instructing a contestant in another room ‘left a bit… no, right’. Now you’re thinking about Richard O’Brien’s remarkably bald head and that’s not helping you climax.

‘Should I be making more noise?’

Wondering whether you need to sound more enthused, you look down. Unfortunately he looks up, causing you to immediately look away like when you accidentally lock eyes with a stranger on the bus. Him attempting to see your reaction is making this even more stressful. Can you throw a blanket over him?

‘How can I break this off?’

It’s taking too long, much too long. At first it seemed to be a warm-up for the main event, but no, he’s actually aiming for the big O, the ambitious, crazy bastard. He’ll never get there. You either have to fake it or say ‘That was lovely, dear’ like a mother praising a child who insisted on singing a song. Either that or: ‘You did your best and that’s what counts.’

‘Is that a wart growing on my hand?’

You’ve given up on this torment and are instead looking at the back of your hand for something to do. You can’t really look at your phone after he moved the duvet off his head. Is that a wrinkle? Are you getting a wart? Maybe you should see the doctor. If you distract yourself, maybe the orgasm will sneak up on you when you’re not looking.

‘How long’s it been?’

You can’t sneak a peek at your watch, much as you yearn to. Worse, you suspect it’s only been three or four minutes. Time slows down here, like in the dentist’s chair. But like being checked for bleeding gums, at least it only happens twice a year.

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