You may think that living in a Magicbhunkshire village is a sleepy affair, where people pass one another saying, “Good morning Vicar, what a delightful day”. Well, so did I until last night.
Yesterday evening I went to our local hostelry with several other women friends, to have the first of the celebrations to mark the 40th birthday of my friend Chastity (she of the key).
As the fizz hit the spot the conversation turned to sex toys. One of our number, nay two of them, had recently discovered the pleasures of adding mechanics to their flagging bedroom activities and were keen to share a very funny story.
Those of you with a prim disposition should look away now.
I’ll call the girl in question Buzz though why I am giving her a pseudonym I don’t know because most of the village will know this story by now, and not from my blog. When you hear it you will understand.
One evening Buzz, was walking with her husband, Cheshire Cat, to the village pub. Suddenly Cheshire stopped on the pavement and said “I’ve got a present for you.” He handed her a box and she opened it. There, wrapped tastefully in tissue paper, lay a vibrating egg – remote controlled (it wasn’t vibrating at the time, you understand).
On arrival Buzz went straight to the ladies and inserted the egg where the moon don’t shine (as opposed to the other place, where the sun don’t shine), and emerged looking as innocent as a baby, if a bit bow legged. Up to the bar she went to buy the drinks and while chatting to fellow bar-proppers she felt herself turned on. To her horror, not only could she feel the vibrations, she could hear them! She looked across the bar and there was her husband, sitting at a table nearby and smirking. Frantically she gesticulated to him to turn the thing off, which he obediently did
While they were imbibing, Cheshire amused himself by switching the widget on and off for a while then Buzz asked him to give it a rest. Later on Cheshire went to the bar to buy the next round. When he got back Buzz suddenly felt the egg vibrating again. “I thought I asked you to stop.”
Cheshire held up both hands “It’s not me.” He pointed to the bar and there, the landlord, Captain Kirk, stood grinning and waving the remote control at her.
Some time later Captain Kirk walked past carrying two plates. The buzzing started again but it couldn’t be the landlord because his hands were occupied. No, it was the barman!