A Taste Of Honey

I can only urge you, dear parishioners, to pay no heed whatsover to those infernal whisperings which are presently spreading faster than summer wildfire concerning the state of relations bewteen myself and Mrs Honeypot, the farmer's wife, because not one single word of it is true.

Not one single word, damn you!

Those steeped in matters of law will tell you that the case is purely circumstantial and that just because we were supposedly discovered together enjoying the afternoon sunshine in the Fondleberry Farm cornfield with what some might deem a slight lack of attire, there is no reason whatsover to suppose that anything unseemly or untoward was going on.

The farmer's wife is a fine and bounteous woman, blessed with an earthy ripeness and sweet tenderness fully befitting her position and neither I nor Farmer Honeypot himself will have a word uttered against her.

The honourable old gentleman in question being an open and liberal soul who has always been willing to share his own good fortune with others, myself included. In times of plenty when there is ample to go around, why should a trusted family friend such as I falsely deny my own peckishness and fail to partake of a nibble or two if it is kindly offered in the spirit of true companionship and generosity?

What transpired that fine day, not that I'm admitting anything actually did, is no subject for idle village gossip and as it took part on private land, if indeed it occurred at all, should therefore remain a private matter.

Flibbertigibbet

Often the most overlooked and easily dismissed class of young lady is our personable little friend Flibbertigibbet, who is all too often and quite sadly in my opinion referred to as an airhead, a bubblehead or as just a bit of fluff.

But pray consider how dull and grey this world would be if she were not around to charm us with her delightfully errant ways.

Self-centred, chattering and flighty she may well be but we would do well to remember that her sins are often only little ones and stem from a buoyant love of life and a weakness for nothing more sinister than mere girlish frivolity.

She will impulsively fall for your flattering words and forget where she mislaid her knickers but open your arms and she will enthusiastically shower you with cuddles aplenty, so warmly does the sunshine burst from her soul.

So pray desist from your sneers and your clever remarks whenever she might stumble or fall but instead afford her the loving support she so desperately craves as little in nature offers such endearing reward as the honest affections of our dear little Flibbertigibbet.

Salty Salome

We all have our modest little indulgences and my own comes every friday night when i take a leisurely stroll down the road to our local Fish'n'Chip Emporium, my reason in being so appreciative of the said establishment lies not only in the tasty choice in all things fish'n'chippy but also in the warm, friendly manner in which i am made welcome.

There is additionally the undeniable fact that the woman who dishes up the salty succulence is the most desirable creature ever to grace a deep fat fryer, so help me God.

I like to think that she has a soft spot for me as her chatter is often cheeky and her condiments always free-flowing, she even sneaks me an extra pickled egg or two when the fancy takes her and sometimes goes so far as to emit a somewhat romantic glow whenever i'm in the mood for a fishcake.

I can't begrudge her the odd stray chip provocatively pinched from my generous portion while she seduces me with her mischievous expertise in saucily shaking her vinegar, knowing that every last movement sets my entire senses ablaze.

But sadly 'tis an unspoken understanding between us that no matter how richly i praise her fishy fare and greedily devour her battered offerings, my lonesome friday nights will never be quite complete until she has finally treated me to dessert as well...something rather more alluring than pineapple fritters too, i shouldn't wonder.

Deliciously Dirty Damsel

To those who only take things at face value and seldom look beneath the surface, she would appear the most straight-laced of women, precisely the kind of girl who effortlessly conveys the passing impression that butter would never melt in her mouth.

So pure in heart does she seem that it is almost an insult to conceive that she could ever be viewed as anything less than delicately demure and the very model of polite maidenhood but as we all know, appearances can be very deceptive creatures.

Whereas the bawdy girl flaunts herself hither and thither with little regard to who might witness  her carefree indulgences, our chosen specimen discreetly reserves her innermost debauchery for carefully selected occasions strictly behind closed doors.

And once the shackles of genteel behaviour have been temporarily discarded, along with her morals and her knickers, she shamelessly reveals herself as a dirtiest damsel that one is likely to encounter; consider, if you will, entering her parlour anticipating a refreshing pot of tea and slice of cake only to be faced with a ravenous tigress in the full heat of her innermost seductive  passions.

I say all this not as whispered gossip against the woman nor as warning to steer your course away from her delightful company but merely as word of advice to love her and enjoy every last second of your time with her, should you ever be so fortunate as to encounter her wickedly private persona.

And Then She Flashed Me

It's a subject that i've studied keenly and deliberated upon for many a year, quite literally a lifetime's interest, so i feel well qualified to discern and identify the crucial difference between a perfectly accidental wardrobe malfunction and a full-bloodied, pre-empted knicker flash.

The former is a rare treat at anothers misfortune, a glimpse of something never intended to be revealed accompanied by the pretence that you weren't looking anyway and that nothing amiss was ever noticed.

The latter case is an entirely different kettle of fish, an even rarer delight to be lingered over and savoured, a secret and special moment shared between two people which brightens the day for both and sends a tingling thrill of exitement throughout their pulsating bodies.

That mischievous look in the eye which implicates naughtiness afforethought, the sultry glances to ensure that one is paying attention followed by the flash itself and the cheeky smile at the shocked expression on the onlooker's face.

That unexpected and fleeting image of delicious feminine intimacy is captured in the mind's eye for posterity, the most intricate details of laciness and silkiness living long after the event itself, something to be lovingly treaured indeed.

What a happy sense of good fortune warms the soul at not only being fortunate enough to have been in the right place at the right time but also for being so honoured as to be selected as the recipient of that tantalisingly secret, private little lingerie exposé.  

Grass Stains

Suddenly inspired by it being such a lovely, warm day i made the impromptu suggestion to my dearly beloved of taking ourselves out for a stroll together in the afternoon sunshine, a concept that i felt sure would ring sweet and true to her tender hears.

Oh no you don't, not on your flamin' Nelly! She replied rather waspishly before adding, Every time we go out for a walk i end up with flippin' grass stains on my knees. So no, not today, thank-you very much!

Naturally i was quite taken aback by her blunt refusal and as i tried to protest against her harsh dismissal of my perfectly reasonable idea, her look blackened, her brows firmly knotted together and she cut across me with another flurry of words.

...And do you realise how uncomfortable it is to be bent over a bloomin' tree stump?
No, of course you don't and as for all that frolickin' in the hedge malarkey, well it ain't you who's got to wash'n'scrub 'til your fingers are raw afterwards, not to mention darnin' all them little rips'n'tears from those blessed bramble bushes.
...And that ain't goin' into all them aches'n'pains in me poor old bones for days on end too, all just so you can stroll about with a daft grin on your silly face. No, you can just leave me out of your treacherous little walks and let that be an end to it!

Well, at least i did ask.  

Sensual Servitude

I couldn't begin to count the number of times i followed her up those stairs with trembling limbs and pounding heart but i would surely be wealthy beyond compare if i received just a penny a time, so frequently did she lure me into her lair with the tempting promise of yet another repeat performance.

She always told me that A little of what you fancy does you good so i naturally enough surmised that a great deal of it must be even better for the welfare of my heart, soul and bodily well-being in general.

So while she kidknapped my youth and held my passions hostage for many a year, i gratefully danced to her tune until she had wrung every last drop of manly vigour from me, taking more than i had to give and demanding even greater exertions of my ever fading being.

The days had long since passed when i could hungrily chase her up those stairs and throw her onto the bed like a wild beast, ravishing her for all i was worth and leaving her breathlessly satisfied and smiling, it was she who now dragged me to the bedchamber like a demon and greedily took her fill of the little which remained of me.

Somehow i always survive the ordeal and live to be ravaged another day, the flickering embers of my former debauchery defying all odds and briefly flaring shamefully into life once again, responding beyond my own will to her insatiable impositions and thus it must always be for without her constant needings and urgings, whatever would i do with myself?    

The Tingle

You can be pretty sure that they are someone special when they secretly give you that precious little gift scientifically known as The Tingle. 

The magnitude and precise location of the tingle is very important too for a lover who gives one type of tingle may not be quite as satisfactory as one who gives another; perhaps they don't give you any tingles at all, which would be a very sad state of affairs for all concerned.

The ability to send and receive tingles at will is a rare gift indeed and blessed are those who have it within their power to confer delicious tingling sensations upon their chosen subject whilst also experiencing the same effect within their own warm flesh.

Perhaps you have perhaps given someone a tingle or even a twinge without being aware of it and i'm quite certain that you have been on the pleasurable receiving end the odd unwittingly bestowed tingle yourself.

It would be nice if we could know when we have caused a tingle or two but sadly they often remain an unspoken delight and so we should make a point of expressing such treats and being open enough to share them wheresoever and with whomsoever we might find them.