About thirty years ago I did marriage counselling. A good number of my tales arise from those sessions, suitably doctored to preserve confidentiality.
This little scrap of nonsense arose from an aside made by a client I was counselling. It was an additional little niggle in their troubled relationship, a side issue: he would play practical jokes on her, and apparently from what she said, some of his pranks were quite emotionally painful. I don't think we followed that up -- there were more important things to deal with in that relationship.
No sex in this one, but a lot of fooling about!
It is written in British English: eg 'fanny' = genitals rather than ass
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It was April the First when I rang Seth's doorbell. I was going to ask him if he fancied a lunchtime drink. We were neighbours, and we got on well.
Well, he opened the door and stood before me absolutely drenched to the skin. His hair was stuck to his skull, and his clothes were dripping water making a pool on the wooden floor.
"What the fuck?" I exclaimed. "What's happened Seth? I was going to see if you wanted a lunchtime bevvy, but--"
"Give me ten minutes to shower and change and over a pint I'll tell you all about it, and in the process something of my life-story. How's that?"
So twenty minutes later we were sitting in the Fox and Hounds with our pints.
"So go on," I urged him, "Tell me all."
This is his story in his own words.
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I wonder, Joe, how you are at taking a joke against you? Do you go along with the general laughter or go into a sullen silence, or perhaps become enraged? You don't need to answer that.
You've heard people saying "I can take a joke as well as the next man."
When you hear that, you know there is a 'but' coming. In my case the 'but' came after a number of such jokes.
When I was in my early twenties, a good while ago now [he smiled: he was not that old], I met and fell in love with my Bernie, short for Bernadette as you know. She was pretty. Still is, of course. I don't need to bore you with details, you've seen her often enough. You'd agree she has a couple of outstanding features, and an outgoing personality. Well, in those days it was an understatement; she was lively, cheerful, vivacious and an incorrigible flirt.
She was also very loving, and I mean
very
loving. Still is. We spent a great deal of time engaged in fairly athletic sex in bed and around my or her flat. I'll spare you the details.
She fell in love with me, and I with her, and after six months 'going together' as we used to call it, I asked her to marry me and she said yes. So we were an engaged couple and she moved in with me, as was and is the fashion. Try before you buy.
I left out one aspect of her character which you won't know about: she was mischievous. She loved to play practical jokes on people. I had my share. They were innocent enough before we became engaged. Things like ink-soap that blackened the face, salt in the sugar bowl, too much extra chilli powder in my chilli, that sort of thing. It wasn't constant, just every now and again, and usually when others were around to share her laughter at my discomfort. And yes, I laughed along with everyone else with gritted teeth, but laughed louder without the gritted teeth when they too were on the receiving end of her pranks.
There was the time we were going to a formal dinner. She carefully unpicked the thread from the seam down the back of my dress trousers. Then when we were at a table in the dance that followed, and I was standing with my back to the dance floor, she dropped her bag and asked me to pick it up. The inevitable happened, and my trousers ripped completely from crotch to belt, exposing my boxers to the other tables. What a laugh! The only relief was that I didn't go commando, which would have been a real balls up.
A while after we moved in together, the tricks changed and took on an even more sexual nature.
I don't want to go into too many details, I don't want to imagine you laughing too hard at my discomfort after all this time Joe, but here is a precis.
There was the time she reminded me,
after
I had stripped naked to get into bed, that I had not taken out the garbage bin to the front of the house, and the bin men were coming early.
I sighed and got out of bed.
"No one will see you, do it naked. Just put it out and run straight back to me, lover. I'll come down and be your look out by the door."
Once I was outside in the nude, she locked the door. I stood on the porch until our gay neighbour Jeremy invited me out of the cold into his house, and proceeded to try to seduce me. I felt like a young virgin in the clutches of an ageing lothario!
Of course he was in on it. How they laughed! I managed a light chortle.
Then there was the time when John and Debbie were staying over. I went up to bed after locking up to find the bedroom door locked and the sound of a couple having loud sex in our bedroom. I thought it was Debbie and John until Debbie joined me on the landing.
John was with Bernie! I was frantically hammering on the door, yelling for Bernie to open up, when she and John came up behind me. She put the key in the lock and opened the door to allow me to see the recorder on the bed having its own orgasm.
How they all laughed! I almost managed a grin.
Another time our friend Sharon, who was a fox, any man's wet dream, was alone with me in our living room. Bernie had intimated she was going for a long bath.
Sharon said, much to my amazement, that she had always wanted 'a piece of me' and stood in front of me as she stripped off her tee shirt, then her jeans, displaying her lime green, translucent bra and g-string. No, not a thong, a g-string, in fact no more than a piece of string. It hid nothing of her not inconsiderable charms. The bra pushed her tits up and together. Her stomach had a gentle roundness which drew the eye to her crotch, if it wasn't there already.
Then she leant forward displaying those glorious globes, unzipped me, fished out my pecker which was straining at the leash, then she straddled me and sat on my lap, slipping my rigid tool between her succulent bum cheeks, the lips of her gash hotly kissing my length.
I was petrified that Bernie would catch us, but Sharon assured me Bernie would be gone for a long time. I was not convinced. She began to move her hips sinuously to and fro, and her bra-covered breasts were jiggling right in front of my face when she pressed my face between them.
I was buried in their mammary delights when Bernie came into the room. She screamed, and then there was an almighty row. Bernie was calling Sharon all sorts of names, Sharon was yelling at her that I had seduced her, and I was
apologising
nineteen to the dozen to both of them!
Apologising! For what? I'd done nothing wrong! I was an innocent bystander, if that's the word -- my cock had certainly been standing, but I was terror-struck by the whole scene. Needless to say my erection began to wilt; let's face it, that was not foremost in my mind.
Then they stopped, laughed and shouted "Gotcha!"
That time not a wisp of a smile crossed my quivering lips, and they were quivering, not with fear or mortification, but shock and anger. I hobbled out, pulling my pants up from round my ankles as I went, my cock waggling ahead of me, to the sound of Bernie shouting after me, "Come on, Seth, it was a joke. Loosen up!"
We got over it, eventually, partially because Sharon came to me afterwards and said how much she enjoyed the feel of my cock. In retrospect, the feeling of Sharon's delectable fanny rubbing my cock would have been mind blowing if I had not been so frightened of being found out!
Sharon said she was disappointed she did not get a fuck out of it; she actually said she was 'that close' to slipping me in! So was I. It would have turned the tables on Bernie, but I don't think we'd be married now.
