What did I first notice about my beautiful multi-millionaire wife? Her smile

From the diary of Rishi Sunak, Britain’s most recent prime minister

PEOPLE ask me, ‘Rishi, how did you and Akshata meet?’ and it is a lovely, romantic, relatable story about two ordinary people, one of whom is a multi-millionaire. 

And, since love is more important than material things here at Christmas while we’re trying to squeeze incomes to keep inflation down, I thought this would be a lovely time to share our story. 

It begins in 2005, when I attended Stanford University in California while remaining very British and down-to-earth and insisting on mugs of tea. It was there my eyes first met those of an enchanting creature across the quad. ‘Who is that?’ I gasped. 

‘It’s Akshata Murthy,’ sighed my roommate, who for a small stipend was also my friend, ‘as you well know. You’ve been following her since day one. We pattern our days around where she’ll be. I lift you on my shoulders so you can look through her class’s windows.’ 

But I barely heard a word he said because I was lost in this gorgeous vision’s dazzling smile. She wasn’t smiling at that particular moment, indeed she was scowling, but I could project and forecast a smile based on the data provided. 

Eventually, and quite by chance, we met. ‘You’ve passed both security checks and credit checks,’ she told me, ‘and my father likes your British citizenship. Go on. Impress me.’ 

Smitten, I reeled off my achievements: Goldman Sachs, a first from Oxford, head boy at Winchester. Her expression didn’t change. I mentioned my ambition to become prime minister and it curdled with disgust. 

‘Of India?’ she said. No, Britain, I explained. ‘Prime minister of Britain. Lord above. You might as well tell me you would like to keep a shop. Still, we don’t need two people with real ambition in a partnership.’ 

That day our hearts met, our 30-year plan was faxed over by her father and signed off by me, and I’ve not looked back since. 

It’s a story that’s above all aspirational, so Britain, when you find yourselves facing hard times for the next 18 months guaranteed, remember you too could do better like I did. Akshata has requested I add that she hates Christmas and has married down. 

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Kinky Christmas sex presents you'll both pretend you never bought each other

WHO’S naughty? Who’s nice? Whose relationship has become nothing but boringly nice when it used to be spiritedly naughty?

If all you want for Christmas this year is a blowjob, it’s tempting to lay out some cash on sexy presents for your lover to guarantee you get some. But will it work, or are you spending the season too pissed to feel anything but faintly nauseous?


Every year hopeful husbands with half a hard-on spend thousands on lacy lingerie they’ll see in semi-darkness for all of three minutes, when they could have bought an iPhone, a babysitter or a trip to a massage parlour.

Instead here you are, shivering in your Arctic bedroom, squeezed into a babydoll nightie with fast-shedding faux-fur adornments that dig into your bum fat like string on a Christmas ham. And this was a present for you?

Novelty sex toys

Is there Christmas-themed sex toys, involving cartoonish, childhood images that have no place being mixed with foreplay? They seemed fun when you were on Ann Summers late and drunk but now the moment’s come do you really want Santa’s freaky face on a pair of stick-on nipple vibrators? A dildo in the shape of a candy cane? A butt plug with a sleigh bell attached? And they’ll be a fucker to regift.

Christmas sex games

From sex crackers to kinky festive boardgames: what made you think this was a good idea? When the kids are off and liable to wander into your bedroom at any moment? Chances are you’re not even home but wedged into a single bed at your mum’s while an elderly aunt snores next door. And if you’re throwing sex dice, the metaphor’s overtaken the reality.

A sex swing

You’ve always thought about taking the leap into full-on swinger territory and Christmas seemed idea to oblige your boyfriend to join you. But it’s ambitious for a couple having one vanilla sex session a week to assume they’re just an item of furniture away from acrobatic orgasms. This requires ceiling bolts, like a chandelier. It’ll never get hung.

Naughty Christmas ornaments

Two gingerbread men bumming, a snowman holding a sign that reads ‘expect 6-8 inches tonight’, hairy chocolate ball-balls which in the plain light of day are just alarmingly realistic white chocolate scrotums hanging from a hook. How in the hell did you think these would be funny, let alone sexy? They should be marked ‘For Secret Santa only’. They should ask at the till.