And now for something completely diffident, as they used to say. A short piece on the perils and pleasures of walking bare footed in my kitchen. Perils mainly because pieces of broken china and mouldering cat kills litter the floor in great numbers, but don’t let that worry you; it doesn’t worry me and it pleases my cats. On the other hand if you insist upon walking not only bare footed but bare naked too well then there is a whole different list of perils entirely to be taken into consideration. Especially on Wednesdays, because on Wednesdays the man calls to mead the Rita.
Oh yes Rita! I didn’t tell you about her did I? Rita is the deceptionist at Doctor Spooner’s Sex Aid, Harty Pat and Joke Emporium. She spends much of her time in exhausted sleep and a little of her waking time demonstrating whoopee cushions and the intricacies of Doctor Spooner’s latest book “Six Sex Stories for the Sedentary Over Seventies” which title cannot be Spoonerised no matter how hard you try.
There are all manner of good things to be seen, tried out and ultimately either bought or abandoned wearily in Doctor Spooner’s emporium (a small charge is made for those rendered unworkable by whatever means if the decision is taken not to purchase the item outright after the trial period has ended)
Let me show you one or two of the more unusual items:
This is one of our best selling items, fondly known to millions as “Jacobs Rocking Sheep” Rather like a rocking horse in concept this device retains the rockers but replaces the horse with a much more cuddly, and softer to the touch, Jacobs sheep (no not a real one, although one, of either sex, may be obtained and fitted upon request. Please see our special order form below) Designed to appeal to the requirements of both male and female randy human this rocking sheep comes in a three sizes, a variety of colours, sizes and operating voltages and has a hand held control facility which enables baa volume, rocking speed and suction pressures to be adjusted remotely as desired. Many of our really satisfied clients have likened this device to one of the famous Sybian machines. “Except that it is ten times better!” they say.
Over here we have a full range of “Kombat Klothing” including the very latest camo patterns from Miami Beach, Dewsbury, Afghanistan and Iraq. (for those of us who have no idea what this type of clothing is for please be assured you are not alone) Kombat Klothing is made from cheap nasty materials which biodegrade once ripped to shreds and thrown away. They are designed for those who like to indulge in vigorous physical fighting as part of their sexual foreplay and are guaranteed to tear apart easily during energetic games. If they do not then please be advised you are not doing something or other either the right way or vigorously enough! Please also see our extensive range of both flavoured and non flavoured edible underwear to complement this type of clothing.
Next we have the world’s largest selection of underwate……
“Ret Geddy Girls!” Doctor Spooner cried waving his speculum. “Our Honoured Guest is in the building and will soon be among us!”
Marjorie grinned and Mary, the clumsy one, fell over the floor in her haste to get into position. Rita, the deceptionist on the other hand, simply stood up behind the ornate screen which did her hesk and smiled broadly as the little tassels attached to her nipples began to rotate spontaneously. They were of course the battery powered variety and, in this instance, controlled remotely by one of doctor Spooner’s other assistants (about which more later).
“Read it slowly” Doctor Spooner instructed “and you will find it is not as difficult as it seems”
The door opened and Mary picked herself up off the floor wistfully. It was the flame soor she’d fallen over the day before. Everybody had laughed at her then, especially when they noticed she wasn’t wearing any knickers. Now they just looked at each other and said “Boring!” which was rather hard on poor Mary because she had really hurt herself this time.
As expected however, the good doctor Spooner was in no mood to be diverted from his task, which was to have the entire universe talking gobbledegook to each other before the dark of the next moon. That most of them were already doing exactly that via text messages, smileys and emoticons had entirely escaped his attention.
Then the door opened and a tall, vile man, dressed in the tartan clothing of a sea going Scots sailor walked unsteadily into the room.
Before he had a chance to introduce himself all those assembled began to sing “Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you!” This was somewhat disconcerting for him because his last birthday had occurred one Wednesday sometime the previous May. For the sake of decorum however he chose to ignore this mistake and indicated his pleasure by smiling warmly.
Then Rita, complete with wildly rotating nipples and little else, stepped forward and planted an extra special, giant family sized kiss on the man’s mouth.
“My hero!” Mary burbled then promptly fell over the floor and hurt herself all over again. This time no-one except our newly arrived tall vile man paid her any attention. When she groaned he prodded her with his foot and when she attempted to rise he assisted her; somewhat clumsily as it turned out because in his cavemanish, north of the border style of doing things he succeeded only in tearing the remaining two items of clothing right off her poor bruised little body.
Doctor Spooner tut-tutted disgustedly when he saw what had happened. He put his speculum down carefully on the sideboard and peered at Mary thoughtfully.
“You can’t get the staff nowadays!” he said to himself.
Mary on the other hand leapt, more of less bodily, from a prone, albeit practically stone dead position, with little dribbles of excitement, straight into the tall, vile man’s arms.
“My Hero!” she cooed again, wriggling her nubility against him wantonly.
Those assembled groaned visibly (yes you can!) and one or two seized pieces of nearby over-ripe fruit and veg which they made ready to throw at her. Mary was not the most popular of Doctor Spooner’s staff as you may have by now surmised. Mr Jock MuckFee on the other hand, and yes it was indeed he and no other, turned to the revolting crowd and addressed them thusly:
“Friends, Romans, Cuntlovers……” (a huge cheer arose at this point) “from northern climes I am come, hotfooted and hot trousered too (a second loud cheer) in order to sample my friend and long ti……”
We distinctly heard the sirens from the window of our hotel. Knock kneed and naughty my companion turned on the T.V. and on the breaking news channel we saw, live, from just across the street, with out own eyes, first hand, what had harpooned.
“That Muddy Blary has fallen over again!” my companion told me.
“Good!” I said, drawing little circles of mouth melted Mars bar around it’s nipples. “That will teach her to run around in the presence of deranged Scotsmen without any knickers on”
“But if he was wearing a kilt then he wouldn’t have been!” my companion said wearily.
“No, no” I began, trying to explain the situation.
“Oh yes!” it told me loudly “I know all about Scotsmen and their traditions!”
Well between you me and the wardrobe there isn’t no telling some people.
I went into the bathroom, flushed the loo emphatically then came out again. It is true what they say. You can’t get the staff nowadays! Then I strode to the window and stared out into the street. The sirens had all stopped wailing now but the blue lights from the police vehicles still reflected biliously off the buildings.
“Lets leave it there wall she?” I asked my companion.
Grinning, it nodded it’s head.
“Yeah” I finished “Leave it there and see what they make of it!”
It leered chocolately, threw back the quilt and invited me to climb back into the bed with it.
© Aahlu 07.03.2010
Sex and Doctor Spooner
by
Aahlu
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Sun, 18th April, 2010
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