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Evenin' all

After some considerable time, about three years I think, of enduring a shower which continually leaked soapy walter onto the carpet instead of into the drain I did, this very afternoon, devise an ingenious, if rudimentary alternative method of showering, namely the mark one Alfreso Showerette (smelly persons for the cleaning of) (namely me)


With the aid and sometimes the hindrance of the following kind people: One appletree, (Granny Smiths, sort of) Several or eightle lengths of garden hose, (Cheap Homebase, perished) One watering can rose, (Found) 5 jubilee clips (Halfords) and about 100 metres of green electricians tape, (the tape not the electrician) (Market stall, £1.99 for five) (rolls not electricians) not to mention one clothes line prop (stolen) and sundry lengths of 2x1 sawn timber, (Travis Perkins, on account) and five reluctantly aquatic cats, I have sucseeded (sic) in enjoying my very first steaming (yelping and screaming, wot no cold?) hot shower outside in the orchard.

I believe the appletree benefitted no end and I now expect a bumper crop of special Camay flavoured fruits come September. The cats however fared rather less well, having been for a short time Guineapigs rather than cats. The neighbours, bless them, what have just arrived home from a hard day in London, benefitted not at all, being as how our huge overgrown Leylandii hedge, hooray, (that’s the subspecies) kept them from seeing anything.

Exasperated my long suffering Everloving she say “Blast me bor! How long a yew hed thet head an yer still a findin' stupid ideas to pull out ov ut!”

Sorry I fell into the vernacular just there. It must be something to do with all the soapsuds on the ground.

She came out to look at it after a while, by which time a great pall of steamy mist had accumulated in the orchard. I thought she was going to complain some more; instead she trotted off through the haze and came back in a short while with a couple of bath towels and a new bar of soap. Oh ah! I nearly forgot, and she’d taken off all her clothes.

“No point in wasting all that hot water!” she cried “If you don’t mind I’ll get in there along with you!”

Well I was only too pleased to let her, I mean it in’t every day I get the chance to have a hot shower with my wife out in the orchard.

She’s a good girl at heart I s’pose. Playful sometimes but sometimes she do tend to nag a lot. I warned her this time, as soon as she got in.

“If you start moaning” I said “I’ll slap your arse and turn the water onto cold!”

She didn’t say anything at all for a few minutes, the hot water having turned her into a large lurid lobster almost instantly. I thought the deep red skin colouring enhanced her a bit but I didn’t like to say. She was probably close to being medium rare when she offered to wash my back.

“You’ve already written one story about someone being ravished in a shower so there is no point worrying about writing another one” she told me.

“Which story was that?” I asked innocently. I knew only too well of course. It was either ‘Escape Velocity’ or ‘Scrapyard’

“You know damn well!” My Everloving instructed me firmly (which left considerable handmarks on both cheeks) “The one where you describe your character ‘George Olduvai’ as ‘having a face which looked like a little known part of Africa’s great rift valley!”

“I remember him!” I said “I ran off with him in the end. Sold all my clothes, bought a second hand spaceship and flew away with him to Mars…….”

“What a bloody stupid story!” she rasped “Why would you do that?”

“Quite simply,” I told her, “because he had a big prick…….”

She can be quite humourless sometimes, can my wife, even with a lot of soapsuds on her tits. Abusive too, especially with a torn off appletree branch in one hand.

“That will never flower now” I told her as she brandished it “Nor have any fruit neither and that’ll mean several apple pies less for the freezer.

I came close to being murdered then, I reckon. Along with all the brandishing she’d gone really, really red in the face. All the soap has washed off her tits, which made them look ever bigger than usual and twice as menacing. As for her bushy bush, …….. that…er that positively bristled with rage.

“Don’t you go doing nothing foolish!” I warned her.

In that steaming hot steam her whole body really glowered at me.

“A big prick?” she rasped “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t I get any?”

Which only goes to show how you can learn Something New every day. I mean I never knew she had a penchant for big pricks. She’s never mentioned it before and……. I’d always thought she was happy with mine……….

Yeah, it only goes to show, doesn’t it?

The water went cold soon after that. The hot had all been used up presumably………

She used both towels to dry herself, suggesting disdainfully that I might do as well with a few handfuls of grass. I didn’t like to say there wasn’t any grass long enough, not after the gardener had been here all day yesterday.

“Big prick indeed!” she grumbled, agitatedly stamping about in the soapsuddy mud rather like a scarlet skinned hippopotamus. Then she hurled the towels onto the sodden grass

“I’m going indoors before I get cold!” I began to say but she seized me in a deadly headlock and, just like those poor towels, she hurled me to the ground bodily. She can be a little tempestuous sometimes I must admit. This time it was worse, or better, depending upon your point of view I suppose. I soon got warmed up when she sat on me. I also got squashed into the mud and rather dirty all over, all over again, but after a while that didn’t really matter. Cold mud and a freezing wind straight from the arctic are of little consequence when you are struggling to maintain the massive hard on that you’re invariably expected to have.

Well she went on about spaceships and outdoor showers generally and about George Olduvai in particular. You could almost believe she’d really met the bloke, to hear her speak.

“Its an impossibility you know!” she informed me at one point and I, thinking she meant space travel, nodded sagely from a prone position. I would have grabbed hold of a tit or two, just for comfort you understand, had I been able. Unfortunately her thighs held my arms firmly trapped by my sides. I would have entirely filled her eager pussy with my big prick, had I been given the opportunity. Unfortunately I came equipped with one of a more normal size. Quite frankly I don’t know what all the fuss is about where men with big pricks is concerned anyway. They can be more trouble than they’re worth if you ask me…..........

“An impossibility!” she grumbled again but I knew she was going to cum there and then. I could tell by the way her knees felt against my ribcage. Like she had spurs on or something. It didn’t take her long and she didn’t wait for me either. Trouble is, as you know, a ripe banana in a fruit bowl is soon past its best and no amount of delicate handling will keep it from going off once it gets started. Her belly heaved and her pussy constricted. Even her great dangling dugs emitted a couple of tremendous tremors each. Soapsuds squidged and mud squelched and if we didn’t actually cum in unison then there wasn’t no more than a millisecond between us.

“That’s what comes of trying out Something New I wanted to tell her but didn’t, because, unfortunately she hadn’t finished.

“See what I mean?” she demanded lustily “An impossibility. Like I said!”

“What you need” I told her muddily “is a man with a really big prick!”

© Aahlu..24.04.2010.

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