Thursday, June 28, 2012

Fifty Shades Of Green

I might be a little rough said Arthur Cumberpatch as he undid his corderoys. Muriel Ramsbottom squirmed at the mere thought of Arthur's rampant snake as he pulled at it frantically. It needs a woman's touch he whispered, lowering his gaze to look at Muriel's ripe melons. Give it a tug for me I can't do it on my own said Arthur as he gripped her hand and pulled it towards him.

Muriel paused, touching Arthur's snake had seemed a dream, this man of sixty, this man of means was complex, a paradox, a fantasy. Arthur's muscular stature and chiseled features were burned into Muriel's memory, how she had longed to hold him in her arms, feel his firm grip and touch his gigantic snake.

At this point, if you have read a popular book at the moment you will be wanting more so let me reveal the tawdry secrets behind Arthur and Muriel...

Arthur had run his pet shop for years, Muriel had watched Arthur from behind her row of ripe melons on her fruit and veg stall as he looked after his favourite pet python, a snake she had always wanted to hold.

They both joined hands and walked down the street to the local pub, the Cockwell Inn, Tilit, Herts.


Or if you prefer a different type of novel, primarily the bodice ripper try Captain Giles Welldeep in his latest adventure One Good Thrust...

The bedroom door burst open as Giles unbuttoned his tunic, Lady Amy Upforit stood seductively in the doorway licking her lips. That needs a good seeing to said Giles as he rose from the bed holding his stiff sabre. Lady Upforit nodded, I know, it's what I have been waiting for she replied then lifted her petticoat.

Giles tore off his tunic and using his sabre cut a neat strip from it and wrapped it around her leg covering the cut she had sustained just moments before whilst clearing out fireplace. See, said Giles, that's a lot better, if you don't see to injuries like that they could turn nasty. Lady Amy sat down relieved that it had stopped bleeding, filled her pipe and smoked some rough shag.

Romantic gold I'm sure, maybe I should try to do a whole book...

John Hardsteel stood on the roof of his chip shop holding the girl of his dreams, Tracy Murmington, a fish skinner from Urmston and bent to kiss her. The smell of the grease from her hair mingled with the heady aroma of fish guts and made him feel light headed. After their first encounter over a mangled carp that Tracy had just skinned their love had grown. Could this be the one?

Can't decide if that passage is a bit too romantic though, maybe I should change the location to the local refuse tip.

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