It's true, there's many an afternoon I have woken next to a young maid-of-work, but I'm a chap !! That's usually alright - isn't it??!
"Well, it began like this...... I return home one afternoon, and go into our bedroom to change shoes and..... "What the........!!" "My God, Marjorie - this is sinking low - even for you !!!" It's true, there's many an afternoon I have woken next to a young maid-of-work, but I'm a chap !! That's usually alright - isn't it??! "Now come, Paul.." Marjorie purred, "Don't be like that. It's not like you haven't slept with both of us before. Why don't you join Mara and I? A trip down Memory Lane if you will..." Well, a red-bloodied bloke wasn't going to pass up a chance like that! And My God! What a trip it was! A young nubile willing servant on one side, and one's own elegant wife on the other. Marjorie was really going to regret this when she sobered up! We lay there in silence, spent and dazed. Sadly Mara would regret this too, as I intended to sack her!"
1 Comment
The prologue......... Excuse the jolly old hand, unfortunate fall and emergency operation. Solicitors are instructed and all that. Our beloved second bathroom in the attic had to be turned into a spare room. There were several reasons why I was not happy about this: Closest to home is Marjorie, my own wife. She has been hankering for separate bedrooms for years! She'd move herself in there like billy-o! Making an even bigger mockery of our marriage! Then the light of my life, Lavinia, and that awful rough girl she hangs about with, will get up to all sorts in there. Despite her having a luxurious bedroom of her own! Then there's that mare, Madonna, who seems to move in at every opportunity. She'd be setting up a recording studio there in no time! Not to mention my old mucker, Lord Posh and his tiresome chimp. He installs himself in here at a drop of a hat! Ironically, the spare room is going to the person I want to have it the least....Daphne, Marjorie's cousin and her illegitimate son! She got through the first heats of X Factor, and she now wants a London base. I tell you, these spare rooms are not a good idea. Never make it easy for tiresome guests! Whatever is Plastic Paul to do? How can he rid himself of these long-term visitors?
Tune into the next post for a gripping turn of events.......... That mare, Marjorie, has turned my lovely Television room into a music conservatoire. She's been angling for that for ages. The kiniving cow! She's such a spoilt tart! And I've just tripped over yet another pair of new bloody shoes! Even worse is that we've got her stupid snotty cousin staying with us! Bitch used to give me Chinese burns when we were young 'uns. And she's brought her nit-ridden, illegitimate son with her! Who seems to be constantly in the shower! Still, at least someone uses that ridiculously expensive thing!! And I have to say, the bally dining room looks a lot less loveless now that bloody piano's out of the way! Though it leaves us with the problem of where the bally TV set goes! To my amazement, Marjorie suggested it went into our hallowed Drawing room. "But it would kill our conversation time dead!", I protested. "Precisely!", she grinned. "Now, do be quiet. The Call Centre is on!" Mare!! My TV show has been commissioned for a second series. Ratings through the roof and all that...... Yet my joy was soon to be shortlived, as the doorbell went. Bollocks! Just as I thought, it's Basil the Bastard! Mary giving birth and Mrs Slagg doing the rough, I have to be the one to let him in. The visit I have been expecting for some time. Basil wafted in: "Done very well for yourself, old chap. TV show and all the rest. Think the servants watch it at home. Bit tacky for me and the wife." I cut to the chase: "What do you want, Basil?", I said coldly, knowing the answer. "Simply what's mine, old boy", he shrugged "Marjorie?", I stalled "Oh no. I warmed her up nicely for you. Done my bit with her !" "It's my daughter, I've come for." My blood turned to ice. And I found myself finally standing up to the school bully. "I take it you are referring to Lavinia," I said coldly, "who is in fact our daughter." "Oh come, Paul mate. I think a simple DNA test can sort that little detail out." "Marjorie and I have brought Lavinia up. You cannot just take her away like some package! You cannot have everything you want! Old Chap!" And the hatred spilled out of me. Then the light of my life appeared with her suitcase packed. "Perhaps it is best I go with him, Papa" A lump caught in my throat: "My Pet, you cannot hurt us like this." "A new start might be better", my little girl said tearfully. I fought back tears. My life would be worthless without my child. "I was there for you, Lavinia, when your mother bore you into the world. This Father cannot just reclaim you. I beg you to reconsider." "I'll always love you and Mama, Papa. But I need a clean slate." Then Marjorie entered the room: "You're not going anywhere, Lavinia", she said quietly but firmly, "You see, Basil, Lavinia is not your child!" "Whaaat?!", the three of us cried.
To be continued.... Don't touch that dial!!!! So nice to relax after my rigorous schedule at the BBC. An opportunity to spend time with my family. Sadly, there is a fly in the ointment Our new neighbour, Basil de Farmer Bugger used to whip the life out of me with wet towels at Eton. Among other things..... Even worse was the fact that his family estate was near ours, and he became a pash of Marjorie's. She looked up to him so much (quite literally) She looked at him in a way she had never looked at me. I longed to shake her, and tell her the truth. That Marjorie was out of her league, and he was biding his time until the first Title came along Which, sadly for Marjorie, didn't take him very long. I was there to comfort Marjorie, us growing up together and everything, and tried hard to hide my elation that the smug bastard had hoofed it to another country estate. Anyway, Marjorie agreed to marry me. But there was one thing she didn't tell me.... I mean, Lavinia is my entire world. She's my pet, my treasure, and I have so much love for my little girl. But biologically, I can't go there. Oh, it's very amicable and everything. The privilleged dispossesed sticking together and all that. We often have drinks, with Bastard Basil and his frigid and barren wife (according to Mrs Slagg). But I hate it when he looks into Lavinia's eyes, and see's his own. And I swear Basil knows. He has that smug look when he talks to our little girl. I need to nip this in the bud, right now. But how......?
On a rare Saturday night home, and X Factor not being what it was, Marjorie and I decided to swap vices for the evening. Her falling spectacularly off the wagon, and me back on the fags! So Marjorie lit up, and I necked the Gin from the bottle, like she showed me. My Word, Marjorie! However do you drink this shit? It's bloody awful! "What is that, my darling?", I heard my wife's tones through a fug of smoke. Then I looked round: "Arghhh........." Two Marjories?! What in the seventh hell...? I leg it immediately...... Only to encounter the cunning Mary twins! "Good evening, Master Paul. Ready for some more rumpy-pumpy?! "No!", I scream, and scramble upstairs. Anything to get away from gin-infused twosomes! But when I get there, someone else is sitting on the sofa: "Evening, old boy. Kind of you to look in, what?" I looked into his face, and saw myself....Arrgghh! In the rays of the morning sun, I bin the wretched conncotion as soon as I can. I decide to ask Marjorie for my fags back.... However..... "Sorry, old boy. My sister and I smoked them all last night." "Arrgh....!" 'pon the discovery of the dynamic duo, I immediately confronted Mrs Slagg! The old woman broke down and confessed that the evil married farmhand who got her "in the club", snatched one of the twins as she gave birth in the haystack. His own wife being barren and everything. Being on the same estate and everything, the young girls soon got to know about each other, and played together often. I grew weary of this sob story. "We don't have room for another servant!" "With respect, Master Paul, Mrs AA is quite happy with the arrangement" Oh Lord! And with Marjorie away at Cowes week, I really didn't have a leg to stand on! It meant I got the bed to myself of course. But not for long! "Crikey Girls! Can't you give it a rest?!" But it seemed not! And the girls climbed on, full of gusto and girl-on-girl action! I became limp and exhausted! As the days went on, I had to admit I liked Mara best out of the two of them, and I was happy to give her a good seeing-to on her own. Mary being sent out to Threshers for the weekly shop. Bally decent to talk to too. Told me she would wait for the right chap before she got preg and all that sort of thing. Not dropping them all over the place, like her slovenly sister. Bloody good head on her shoulders too. "Shouldn't you take your clothes off first, Master Paul?" - that kind of thing. Bloody good advice! However, Mary soon got wind of this. And it was one thing to make a cameo appearance in the master's bed but..... ....and sadly, the tension between the identical sisters grew. "I must move on, Master Paul," Mara said to me one morning, "It is not easy to work here anymore." I begged her not to go, but Mara was adamant. She was going to work on a large estate in Norfolk, lots of good-looking gardeners and the like. I took her new address, and swore I would send for her if my TV pilot show took off. She would make a zippy producer! I sat outside in the garden for a few hours, despite the dodgy forecast. The truth was, I wasn't in love or in lust with Mara, I was in Like with her. And I felt I had lost a proper friend. I vowed to become a big TV star, so Mara could return! Hoorah! Marjorie's off to Cowes Week with my future-son-in-law. I get this new and posh and very expensive bed to myself - for once!! Bugger! Just as I was getting off to sleep, Mary comes in to do the dusting! But hang on.... she's not carrying her usual cake!!! Golly, Mary, I exclaimed. You look almost attractive without that cake! Whoa! I breathed. Steady on! I said almost attractive! But the saucy wench was having none of it! She threw me mercilessly down on the bed. A strange sensation washed over me. I was making love to Mary - and yet I wasn't.... Then Mary appeared at the door, cake in hand as usual: What in the seventh hell....? "Ah", she grinned, "I see you've met my twin sister Mara!" Before I knew it, Mary, not missing an opportunity when she saw one, had joined us on the bed for a romping threesome. "Steady on, girls!", I wheezed. "Mind the fucking cake", Mary husked. Gosh, I thought some hours later, as I came downstairs for breakfast. Topping dream! I must tell Mary about this "twin sister". She was up for a laugh - among other things! But as I entered the kitchen: "Good morning, Master Paul", Mary winked saucily, "I think my sister is going to settle in here nicely!" "Aaargh!" I replied How can I get out of their evil clutches now???? |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. Archives
October 2014
Categories |