Today I invited Wilf over for lunch as we haven't seen one another for ages now and I miss his Levi's 501 stonewashed jeans, checked shirts and white t-shirts. It goes without saying that we had sex - I truly believe that I'd 'dry up' (in the words of Mrs Blenkinsop) if I didn't indulge in penetrative intercourse at least every seven months or so. Wilf's very accomplished 'in the sack' so to speak - he's very digitally dexterous if that's not too profane, plus he has a tongue like a hummingbird. I've often found that geeky men are somewhat surprisingly good in bed - I think it's all of those years of reading dusty biology textbooks in the corners of libraries whilst their more popular friends fraternised with girls at the bus stop.
Prior to our afternoon in bed, we ate lunch which consisted of a Co-op steak and potato pie, mashed potatoes, cauliflower and green beans covered in Bisto Onion Gravy; we finished with a Butterscotch Angel Delight, which I wagered wouldn't lie too heavy in Wilf's digestive system. As we sat up in bed drinking a cup of Mellow Birds each, we talked about Wilf's burgeoning literary career - his book 'My Life With Mavis: The Life and Loves of Owning a Vintage Three Ton Bus' is selling well in the 'Vintage Bus and Tram Memorabilia' section of Amazon and he hopes to net £887 worth of profit this quarter alone. He stated that he's planning to tour the UK in the aforementioned vehicle and asked whether I'd be interested in accompanying him. "It'd be romantic Margaret - just think, we could watch the sun come up over the Watford Gap whilst speeding up the M1." Hmm - I told him that I'd think about it.
No comments:
Post a Comment