Thursday, December 29, 2011

Vital Village Orgy Essentials

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Now, obviously in any village orgy, or even any competitive inter-village orgy, from the local leagues right up to the World Inter-Village Orgy Cup, there is always one constant that is vital for the participants to enjoy the full benefits of the perverse experience.

Here I, of course, speak of the Nice Cup of Tea.

As perverteers of long-standing, I am sure that the perusers of my organ need no further reminding of the bounteous benefits of the Nice Cup of Tea. Although, there are rumours that there are some on the continent, and even some out in the colonies, who do not re-invigorate their orgy-going experience with a Nice Cup of Tea, I’m sure that no-one here ever considers such an offence against all that is natural and good in the perverse arts.

We all are prepared to admit, I’m sure, that there is a place for most beverages in a village-orgy context – up to and including Bovril, I’m sure that as reasonable people we can all agree that they all - including coffee – pale into insignificance when compared to the Nice Cup of Tea.

This must become obvious to everyone when the biscuits and/or cake are brought out during the refreshment break at half-time in the village orgy. Pleasant as the other beverages may be, none of them fits so well – like a well-oiled vicar into a campanologist – as a cup of tea with either cake or biscuits.

Therefore, if you through some unfortunate turn of circumstance find that you – in the near future – are attending a village orgy without adequate tea-making facilities: although I, for one, could not imagine why that should ever be the case. Please remember – at the very least – to take a flask of tea with you if you do not wish to have your orgiastic performance hindered and – possibly - even derided.

Monday, December 5, 2011

Alleged Illicit Practices in Inter-Village Orgy League Matches

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It is likely that you – like me – were taken aback by some of the allegations printed in the sports pages of some of the specialist Gentleman's Interest magazines, and on some of the more sexually relaxed sports-related websites concerning illicit practices in Inter-Village Orgy League matches.

Most of these allegations seem to feature unnamed players from unnamed teams talking – for the first time – frankly about the illicit use of certain performance-enhancing substances in Inter-Village Orgy league and cup matches.

It is especially worrying to hear allegations that some players may have been en-smearing themselves with 3-fruit marmalade in order to gain unfair advantage over opposing players, and to enhance their prowess over opposing teams, for whom the very thought of entering a competitive orgy en-smeared with marmalade is an anathema, and contrary to all decent sporting instincts.

However, such is the danger of marmalade endangering what could already be an over-startled chicken during the tense closing half-hour of an inter-village competitive orgy, that all-comers to a village orgy have to undergo mandatory marmalade testing in the undressing room before the beginning of the start of the commencement of the match.

Therefore, any such tales of smuggled marmalade – as well as the illicit use of toast-making equipment in the undressing room can be treated with some amount (I suggest a tablespoon) of scepticism. It would come as no surprise (especially to the otherwise easily-startled chicken) that this is yet another tabloid-inspired moral panic that will soon be forgotten about as the Inter-Village Orgy League enters its final stages over the coming months.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Pervertner’s Guide to the Rural Rude and Naughty

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‘It is not easy, finding a way through the undergrowth, sometimes, but then if you have a firm enough grasp on your probing tool a way can usually be found to gain entrance to the more enchanting and secluded groves on our rural byways.’ Such was the opening sentence of Pervertner’s Guide to the Rural Rude and Naughty of England, which was – as time went on – to become the essential guide to Britain’s most perverse rural areas at the beginning of this century.

Pervertner’s as it has become known is indispensable to anyone who sets out on a walking tour of Britain’s more perverse rural villages and hamlets, as well as being quite a good guide to the UK’s naughtiest towns, cities and suburban areas. Pervernter himself devoted his life from the publication of this first volume of his guide to exploring as much of the rural UK as he could, as well as sampling as much of the UK’s famed taste for rural naughtiness as he could. Not only that, he developed the UK’s first rating system for the ranking the naughtiness of the UK’s dairymaids, cake shop manageresses and postmistresses in a way that has never been bettered.

Not even the EU’s brand-new Europe-Wide perversion scale – the Wankometrique. Unfortunately, this is - of course - in metric and, as such, consequently plays down the naughtiness level of England’s assistant librarians can really compare to the Pervertner scale. The Pervertner scale can also be used to measure – with often quite startling accuracy - the hotness of meat pies, the breeding seasons of sheep and cows, the gripping strength of dairymaids and even small local earthquakes.

All-in-all then Pervertner’s Guide’ is an invaluable aid to everyone with an interest in the perverse arts and sciences and should therefore make an ideal gift for the deviant in your life, or for an interested neophyte.

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Poking About in the Rough

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Now, there are some gentlemen who – apparently – much prefer poking about in the rough for their balls and discussing the merits of getting a hole in one with like-minded acquaintances. However, for those of us who prefer not to get sand in our crevasses whilst sharing a bunker with a willing partner who makes helpful comments on one’s grip and stance, golf is merely a pastime, and – at that – one with a poor taste in fetish gear.

Although, as Grand Uncle Stagnant often attests, it is good to go for a sit down and a bit of rest and relaxation after your 18th hole of the day. However that is something easily accomplished by retiring to the snug of The Pervert’s Appendage’ after a village orgy night and resuscitating one’s self with a reinvigorating pint of the landlord’s best and a packet of pork scratchings. Not only that, for those who enjoy a discussion of tactical finesse and how to improve one’s swing, there are plenty of philosophers of the perverse arts and sciences usually to be found in that cosy symposium. Thus, this mass debate will enable the barmaid, or any other lady patron of the Pervert’s Appendage to get as many pointers as she could possibly desire in one evening.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

A Firm Grasp of a Gentleman’s Predicament

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There is no more stirring a sight, able to bring a warm glow to a gentleman’s trouser region, than a cake shop manageress getting her warm baps out, dressed only in an apron and oven gloves. Of course, none of us can wait very long to get our hands on her baps, especially when hot and as everyone knows cake shop manageresses are always, always, hot*.

This is, of course, not to say that the other ladies of the village of Little Frigging in the Wold are lacking when it comes to the carnal arts and applied orgiastics. I – for one** - would not wish to disparage any of the other ladies of the village in any way whatsoever, especially the dairymaids with their well-known ability to take a firm grasp of any gentleman’s predicament and not let go until he begs for release. In addition, I would warn any gentleman not to forget those fine upstanding ladies, the Strap-On Sisters, who always makes sure that no man ever forgets their interventions as they forcibly insert themselves into his fundamental meditations and ruminations whenever they feel a gentleman would benefit from the experience they impose upon him.

 

*This is why, if you want your sausage roll or pork baguette hot, you should always let a cake shop manageress warm it up for you in her oven.

** Or more, if you have the time and your hot strumpets are buttered and ready.

Monday, November 28, 2011

On ‘Just Stepping Outside for a Moment’

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Now, as you approach, say, a cake shop manageress with full intent, within a village hall orgy context, it is best to make sure that she is completely aware of your approach, especially if you have just stepped back inside after going out for a breath of fresh air. This will ensure that she doesn’t, for example, drop a stitch in a crucial stage of her knitting, or lose her thread when discussing the shortcomings of their mutual neighbours with a coven of acquaintances when you come upon her unawares.

However, should you have stepped outside during the rest of the year other than the UK’s usual one day of summer; your intent will – no doubt – not be as obvious as you’d hoped. It may even be the case that you need the attentions of a suitably warmly-bemittened bevy of dairymaids before you are once more fully up to the task you have set yourself for the second half of the village orgy.

Furthermore, if you do step outside the village hall on any day other than the aforesaid one day of summer you will have to take care that you do not get you best pair of fetish wellies muddy. When traversing that collection of puddles, loose stones and other detritus the Village Hall Orgy Steering Committee optimistically like to call the car park, it is probably best to bring a spare set of working wellies for such eventualities.

However, unless it is a ‘Bring a Guest’ Village Orgy Night, it is probably best to remove the back legs of the sheep from the wellies before setting out for the evening.

Friday, November 25, 2011

Very Sociable Media

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Of course, these days everyone in the mainstream media keeps on about ‘social media’ as though it is all an invention of the interwebnets and the like had ne’er been gazed ‘pon before. However, we in England’s tight knit* rural communities have been networking very socially with each other for a long time now, especially through the typical all-village orgy in the village hall, and – consequently – with the villagers from nearby in the Inter-Village Orgy League. It has even gone international – world-wide if you will, through first the European Inter-Village Orgy Cup and – latterly, since the end of WWII – the increasingly popular World Inter-Village Orgy Cup, where national teams from all over the world (and Canada) compete together every four years in a mutually-satisfying series of competitive orgies until one nation comes out on top.

There you have it (and if you wouldn’t mind stroking it gently whilst you do have it I will soon display my effusions of gratitude for your dexterity). It is proof – should proof be needed, that through the use of the inter-village orgy true social networking can be achieved without any of that tedious arsing about with routers, firewalls and virtual poking (unless that sort of thing gets you aroused, of course).

 

*A warning here it can become rather… er… entangled if the ladies of the village continue with their knitting whilst engaged in an all-village orgy, especially if the balls of wool get knocked hither and yon around the hall during the proceedings, thus ensnaring everyone in a tangle of moistness, nudity and woollen yarn. This is all well and good until someone in the midst of the entanglement realises they are about to miss their bus and chaos ensues as they attempt to extricate themselves from the wool-bound scrummage.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Polishing his Helmet

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As Little Frigging in the Wold is fortunate enough to exist in a quiet rural backwater with little crime, it means that there is little for our village policeman, PC Ghonnemadd, to do most days, other than polish his helmet.

Of course, PC Ghonnemadd is lucky in that on his daily perambulations around the village there are several ladies of the village all willing to give him a hand to polish his helmet. However, PC Ghonnemadd himself has warned them that should an emergency arise while they are polishing his helmet then the ladies must be prepared to drop everything and to stand well back as he pulls out his truncheon ready for immediate action.

As you may well know, many ladies find the idea of a man in uniform quite exciting, especially if they are in a position to help him remove it. Consequently, PC Ghonnemadd always has plenty of women ready to give his helmet a good buffing, even with the danger of his having to leave the vicinity in a hurry. For example, he could receive an emergency radio call-out to investigate reports of mysterious noises coming from the barn where Grand Uncle Stagnant and a brace of dairymaids retried to in order to, as they put it, ‘choke the chicken’.

Monday, November 21, 2011

Muckibelli’s Prince

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‘Tarry thee not at the sticking post, always strike while the courgette is warm and well-lubricated with the unguent of thy choosing, my Lord.’ Such was the sage advice by the adviser to his prince by the renowned Renaissance philosopher of the perverted arts and sciences, Muckibelli, in his Discourses on the Erotic Uses of the Pineapple., which was intend as a guide to the best palace orgy practices, not only for Muckibelli’s prince, but also for all the royalty of the era.

The Renaissance, as its name suggested, was a re-flowering of interest in the classical times at – roughly – the end of the medieval period. Consequently, many royals, nobles and even some of the wealthy merchants and traders of the aspiring new middle class were very interested in aping – what they saw as – the civilised values of the classical age, especially those parts involving orgies, perversions and other such rude, moist and naughty goings-on.

Renaissance scholars, therefore, pored over whatever works of classical antiquity they could get their hands on, and - as with the internet today – most of what they spent most of their time examining turned out to be the rude and naughty bits.

Muckibelli himself maintained that the Roman orgy was the apex of civilisation, especially in the then-revolutionary way the Romans utilised foodstuffs to enhance the proceedings, as well as their very liberal use of olive oil and other such unguents and lubricants.

Unfortunately, Muckibelli’s scholarship was not as accurate as he’d hoped and he was – tragically – crushed to death under the wheels of a speeding chariot when trying to re-create what he thought was a typical Roman chariot race-based orgy whilst he and his paramour were still liberally-coating each other with olive oil whilst steering around a sharp corner.

However, the writings of Muckibelli that survived went on to become a classic of Theoretical Orgiastics, still studied right up to the present day at the University of Little Frigging (formerly the cow shed).

Friday, November 18, 2011

On the Necessity of Post-Orgy Wheelbarrows




Now, usually on Wednesdays as we denizens of Little Frigging make our way down to the village hall for the midweek orgy, many of us will of course, have our sex spatulas pre-oiled and ready, especially if we usually encounter an assistant librarian or two in the vestibule in need of a pre-orgy spatula manipulation.

Many of us, as the advancing years force their deprecations upon what was once young, fine and upstanding personage, feel that we need a pre-orgy lift to our ardour. Consequently, encountering a brace of assistant librarians ensconced in the vestibule is always uplifting, even to the most jaded of orgy-goers. This is especially the case if the assistant librarians have deployed themselves in a spatula-ready formation, ready for one to step up and begin proceedings without any of the formalities that often rob these routine village orgies of spontaneity, at least until the turbo sex-weasels are released.

However, by that stage of the orgy most of us will already have used up most of the onion gravy set aside for the purpose (however, the porpoises should have plenty of egg sauce left, if necessary, providing the fishnets do not have too coarse a mesh.)

Still, sometimes age does burden us down, so that by the end of even a light mid-week orgy, many of us feel the need to utilise some one of the post-orgy wheelbarrows set aside for the purpose in the village hall car park to get us home again afterwards.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Hairstylists and Unseasonable Weather

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Now, look, I know this is usually the time of year when the hairstylists have normally fully prepared themselves for hibernation. However, this year the time when they begin filling their nests with the materials they need to survive the long dark winter nights: chocolate, strong wines and spirits, DVDs, glossy 'How To Do Sex Properly' magazines and instruction manuals, boxes of tissues, and - of course - several hundredweight of next summer's holiday brochures has not come about as normal.

Consequently, the unseasonably warm weather we have experienced of late means that some of the hairstylists are still in holiday mood, contemplating early winter breaks with all the avid alacrity of a rural vicar in a metropolitan porn emporium on sale day.

This - of course - could play havoc with the breeding cycle of the hairstylists, and thereby cause chaos in the livestock markets. It could result in a catastrophe greater even than the Great Sherry Trifle Outbreak of 1976, which resulted in several thousand prime breeding hairstylists breaking out in uncontrollable giggling before, a few hours later, falling over in moaning heaps, begging to be put out of our misery.

Friday, November 11, 2011

Spanish Practices

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Hopalong Arsetwanger is – quite rightly, to what's left of my mind – credited with the introduction of certain Spanish practices into the English perverteer's repertoire.

Up until Arsetwanger returned from the Spanish Civil War, where he had taken a wrong turn just outside Barcelona and had spent the majority of the war ensconced in the bosoms of the ladies of a Catalonian brothel, little was known of Spanish perversions in the UK.

These days, most ladies at a village orgy will know that the deft manipulation of the castanets is a sure way to get her gentleman to be upstanding. In addition, she will know just how to swirl her cape so that she can get any upstanding gentleman bearing down on her to place his horn in exactly the right place for her to achieve full satisfaction.

However, it was Arsetwanger himself who introduced an initially sceptical British public to such widening of the then somewhat insular British orgiastic philosophy. However, a lot of Arsetwanger's influence was very short-lived. Not long after his return to these shores, World War II broke out and – of course – brought with it the Austerity Orgies of that period. Rationing meant that even a Seville orange was regarded as a luxury and with the men away at the front; few women had the chance to perfect their handling of the castanets, at least until the American soldiers turned up... eventually.

With the introduction of the American high-speed perversions, production line and drive-in orgies and fast fondling techniques taking such a hold on British orgy-goers during the immediate post-war period, it seemed that the slower paced European and, especially, the Mediterranean orgy practices had fallen out of fashion.

It is hoped by those of us attempting to keep the traditional ways alive, though, that soon more English orgy-goers and perverteers will, one day, return to the more traditional orgy stylings of our common European ancestry and, consequently, Hopalong Arsetwanger’s legacy will be restored to its rightful place at the centre of everyone’s perverse repertoire*.

 

*Providing they still have enough play left in their castanets, obviously.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

The Erotic Use of Cardboard

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Of course the use of cardboard in a village orgy can sometimes have unfortunate side-effects, especially if the cardboard gets damp, ripped or trampled underfoot in the rush to the half-time hot buffet. Therefore, the erotic use of the cardboard cut-out film star, TV personality, famous stockbroker, mathematician or - in extremely perverse cases - national politician cannot be recommended outside of your own erotic boudoir, sex pantry and/or cow shed whichever is more applicable.

However, the Little Frigging postmistress, Labia Entanglements, has recently taken delivery of some cardboard face masks originally intended as fright facemasks for use during the recent Halloween period. These have proved (surprisingly) popular for inter-village friendly orgies, especially when the Little Frigging visiting village orgy team went up against Lower Crotchstaine in the recent Inter-Village Orgy Cup tie last Saturday.

The Lower Crotchstaine team didn’t take much persuading to wear the masks as they found them much more attractive than looking at each other, thus enabling the Little Frigging team were to become far more intimate with the opposition due to the Lower Crotchstaine team's use of the masks to obscure their…. somewhat… er… interestingly unusual facial features. Much has been said in the past of the denizens of Lower Crotchstaine and their propensity to keep things in the family, much more than is considered normal in any other rural village community, even in those villages where family affairs are quite common, often due to awkward geographical conditions leading to relative isolation for that community.

Consequently, the Little Frigging players were much more willing to get stuck into the scrum with the Lower Crotchstaine team than is usually the case, Little Frigging managed to score several times in the dying minutes of extra time to win the match and thus move on to the next round.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

With a Nip in the Air

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As the one day of the English summer fades into memory, the notion of open-air perversions begins to lose some of its appeal. Except, of course, for those perversions that employ woolly mittens, a flask of hot tomato soup or a Cornish pastie*, we begin to turn our minds and any nearby canteen manageress to the thought of more indoor-based perversions.

Of course, for some of the more rigorous indoor perversions, especially those that incorporate either the stepladder or the pogo-stick it is vital to make sure there is enough headroom in the village orgy hall. For, as all gentlemen of good standing know, what a disappointment it is not to be able to get any head room due to lack of space. It is also vital to make sure that any access to the downstairs areas is not impeded in any way just in case the lady of your current dalliance needs you to go down for her.

In such cases, the gentleman should make sure that he is equipped with a hard hat, if in doubt it is advisable to ask someone with the requisite expertise, such as a post-mistress if she feels your helmet is capable of withstanding the rigours of the occasion.

 

*Or, as in the case of the Gentleman’s Highway Stand and Deliver perversion – all three.

Monday, October 31, 2011

When Lawyers Mature

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I suppose it is always a slightly bitter-sweet time once the year's crop of lawyers has gone to market, especially for those runts of the litter who fail to find a law firm willing to take them on, who end up being sold into politics. It is not a life that you would normally wish upon anyone, not even lawyers... well... maybe not....

However, once the tad-lawyers have had a taste of litigation it is almost impossible to wean them off their desire for laws, if not to work and live amongst the laws, then to do their best to make them unworkable.

For such is the instinctive need of lawyers to feather their nests with as many laws as possible, they also seem to have some instinct for making the laws themselves as impenetrable to outsiders as they possibly can. Of course, there is an evolutionary reason for this, the more complex and impenetrable the law, the more the lawyer can charge for seeming to understand it, and - like the peacock's tail – the lawyer that charges the highest fee is the one more liable to get a mate*.

 

*As - quite often – no-one else would want the stigma of being seen mating with a lawyer, the only way a lawyer could get a mate was to pay for it. However, since the startling discovery of female lawyers by naturalists this has – to some extent – changed.

Friday, October 28, 2011

On the Essence of Manliness

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Of course, the sight of a pulchritudinous post-mistress dressed in a rubber trainee-supermarket manager fetish outfit is enough to cause a stirring in the trouser area of any red-blooded Englishman. Consequently making him desperately search out a nearby-unopened jam jar so that he can demonstrate his supreme manliness to her by getting its lid off in front of her very eyes.

It does go without saying that any woman is bound to be impressed by a man who can get the lid off a jar without causing himself too much of an injury and without – most importantly – denting his ardour.

However, there are some women who find themselves overcome by the kind of man able to reach some of the higher shelves, especially in a supermarket, where the staff choose to put everything you actually want just out of your reach, just – it seems – for the hell of it.

In the hothouse atmosphere of the village hall weekly orgy and homemade cake sale, however, there is little a man has to do to show any woman there his interest in a dalliance with her, beyond complimenting her on the moistness of her cupcakes and tweaking the cherries on the tips of her Belgian buns. Although, if he is dressed in his full leather auditing gear, even that may not be entirely necessarily to get her to put her knitting aside for a time (or two).

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Getting Steamy in the Cake Shop

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Approaching a cake shop manageress should only be attempted in clear visibility, and so caution should be utilised if approaching one either on a misty morning, or if the kitchen area of the cake shop is steamy. However, the default setting of the cake shop manageress is always steamy, so being overcautious in such a situation can only result in a dent in your ardour or structural damage to your cream horn.

Most cake shop manageresses - as you no doubt will know – prefer to work naked except for an apron and oven gloves, which often helps when she kneels to see if your dough has risen, or if it needs a bit more kneading. Some gentlemen in such cases prefer the added frisson that keeping the oven gloves on brings to such occasions; others tend to kind such erotic charges somewhat over-stimulating and prefer just a light dusting of self-raising flour.

In any eventuality, it is considered only polite for any gentleman visiting the cake shop to insist that the cake shop manageress or her counter assistant sample his hot sausage roll and that if requested he leave a generous dollop of his fresh cream in all their apple turnovers.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Ladies Lingering in their Lingerie

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It has been brought to the attention of the Village Hall Orgy Steering Committee that there are far too many ladies lingering in their lingerie in the vestibule of the village hall on orgy nights. This is especially awkward when the men from Technical Support have to attempt to manoeuvre past these ladies without getting any of their protuberances intertwined in the corridors. It is especially difficult when trying to manoeuvre pogo sticks and barge poles into the main hall in readiness for the Ladies' Excuse-Me in the second-half of the village hall orgy.

Hanging around – except by those with an interest in bondage - is not to be encouraged by anyone involved in the village hall orgies, especially when it may result in excess spillage of cream from a gentleman's cream horn when attempting to ease himself through a crush of scantily-clad ladies, all asking for a taste of his cream or a lick of his horn.

Furthermore, our volunteer fireman Strom Thighhammer has also pointed out that if a fire broke out in the hall, with so many under-dressed ladies in the corridors, he would find it very difficult to utilize the full length of his hose without running the risk of it being trampled by a sudden rush of over-excited ladies.

Therefore, the Village Hall Orgy Steering Committee request that all lingerie-clad ladies try to keep the corridors clear in future.

Thank you for your co-operation.

Friday, October 21, 2011

Strom Thighhammer and the Large Hard-On Collider

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Unfortunately, for the last fortnight or so, the ladies of Little Frigging have all been rather downcast, no matter what I and the rest of the proudly-upstanding gentlemen of the village have done to buck their ideas up.

It seems that the ladies are more than a little put out that our very own village blacksmith and volunteer fireman, Strom Thighhammer has been co-opted by the UK's scientific establishment to be this country's representative at the Large Hard-On Collider on the Swiss/German border.

The scientists felt that this country needed a man of Strom's impressive standing in order to compete with the other countries involved in the vita research at the well-known Porn facility, where the Hard-On Collider is situated.

This vital scientific work has been undertaken in an attempt to understand the true nature of the sex particle, especially the - currently theoretical - Friggs (or 'bouncy bosom') particle that is believed to be responsible for the strong sexual attraction force.

As you are probably aware, the work is carried out in a long circular tunnel underneath the facility. There, dairymaids and cake shop assistants from every country in Europe are made to circle around in this tunnel, with the scientists all eagerly waiting for them to collide with the gentlemen of very good standing who wait in various parts of he tunnel manfully manipulating themselves in order to emit the sexual attractor particles that will pull the ladies towards them.

Once the attractive force between the dairymaids (say) and the gentleman of impressive standing has resulted in a collusion of the sexual organs of the two (or in some situations more than two) participants the scientists at the facility then spend several days minutely examining the pictorial evidence of the collision. The scientists claim they do this in an attempt to locate, identify and isolate the elusive sex particles responsible for the attractive forces that resulted in the collision.

Thursday, October 20, 2011

On the Insertion of a Surreptitious Weasel

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There has been much debate of late, especially in the snug of The Pervert's Appendage about the best way to instigate the insertion of a surreptitious weasel into the scrum during a deadlocked Inter-Village Orgy League match. Obviously, some form of finesse is necessary in order to introduce the weasel without giving away a free fondle, especially if your goalkeeper has left her box wide open.

Of course, the sudden insertion of a surreptitious weasel into the proceedings was first tried – with great success – during one of the more tedious political debates* in the House of Lords just prior to WWI, when the first Sea Lord had his promulgation perverted by the introduction of the surreptitious weasel by the opposing party.

However, the use of the surreptitious weasel has been a long tradition in the long – and usually quite firm – history of the inter-Village Orgy match. However, with the International form of the Inter-Village Orgy, there was some initial reluctance by some foreign countries to allow the use of the weasel, with Germany being the obvious example.

However, once the German's were allowed the use of sauerkraut and sausages during a free fondle (providing no substitution had taken place), the use of the surreptitious weasel became widely accepted in the game, especially when the goal-botherer was under pressure from the opposition inside-outside wing forward backs at silly mid-on.

 

*Yes, I'm afraid it is true, it is indeed possible to have some political debates that are even more tedious than the others, even though this does seem to conflict with Einstein's General Theory of Tedium, which states that the universe is always an inherently interesting place, especially when you have mislaid your car keys.

Monday, October 17, 2011

Out and Ready to be Held

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Nestled deep in the picturesque valley at the heart of the county of Upper Thyghspreader, Little Frigging in the Wold is just another quiet English rural village. It is a place where the denizens take a quiet pride in the good standing of their local Inter-Village Orgy team, all pulling together to support it in the Inter-Village orgy League and cup as well as its attempts to increase the standing of English village orgy teams in the many European Competitions.


Not only that, everyone in the village always do their best to attend the events in the village hall that do so much to make the residents of such places come together as often as possible in the many village orgies arranged there, or even getting themselves out on the village green for open-air all-village orgies should the weather be suitable.


Furthermore, the new University of Little Frigging (formerly the cow sheds at Trouser-Quandary farm) is regarded as the leading institution in the UK for the study of theoretical and practical orgiastics as well as the study of the perverted arts and sciences, especially the use of the pork pie in an erotic context. All under the expert guidance of the narrator of this splendid tome, Norbert Trouser-Quandary, Master of the Perverted Arts and Sciences and Professor of Theoretical and Applied Orgiastics at the University of Little Frigging in the Wold, who is also a farmer specialising in the husbandry of free-range hairstylists and the breeding for the market of farm-assured lawyers.


For those interested in the use of cream cakes in a village orgy, the use of the village volunteer fireman's chopper, how to butter an assistant librarian, the secret rites of folk singers, the correct way to fondle a post mistress in a formal village orgy setting and much, much, more, this book is the ideal introduction to modern English rural life.

Friday, October 14, 2011

Ready at the Crease

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Of course, when in the presence of a brace of dairymaids in a state of near undress you will not – I'm sure – be too concerned about the integrity of your Brussels sprouts, providing you, of course, remember that they should be bowled underarm if the village orgy is taking place indoors.

This, of course, assumes that you have arranged the fielders into the necessary positions and that the dairymaid who is batting has her dildo ready at the crease as you begin your run-up.

Experts are often in conflict about whether or not the Brussels sprouts should be cooked before the innings begins or whether the raw sprout is much better, if only for its aerodynamic properties. It will be up to the umpires to agree amongst themselves on the suitability of the sprouts – whether cooked or raw – and whether they can stand up to the deprecations of the full innings without losing their integrity.

There are those gentlemen bowlers who like to give their sprouts a coating of oil, or even a light vinaigrette dressing before they come out to bowl at the start of the village orgy innings, others claim that it makes their sprouts difficult to get a good grip on the sprouts, and that such an eventuality gives undue advantage to the dairymaids, who – in most cases – prefer to maintain a firm grip, as we all know only too well. Especially those of us who have attempted to get to the tea break sandwiches without first disengaging the grip of the dairymaid, something that can often bring a tear to the eye of the most upstanding of gentlemen.

Thursday, October 13, 2011

An Organ of Record

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In the current climate with the internet taking over more and more of the news function formerly the province of newspapers, it seems that some local papers are suffering loss of sales, and some are even closing.

However, The Little Frigging in the Wold Gleaner, under the erstwhile editorship of Foaming Lickspittle, has gone from strength to strength. It is his foresight that led to the acquisition of the services of former Inter-Village Orgy star, Sherry Ventilator as the Gleaner’s sports correspondent. This has made the Gleaner the newspaper of choice for anyone in the county of Upper Thyghspreader who takes an interest in the Inter-village Orgy cup and league, as well as magnificent coverage of other rural sports such as Estate Agent Immolation, Wild Accordion hunting, folk singer disambiguation and Ladyfingers-in-the-Bush.

Foaming Lickspittle has also employed Grand Uncle Stagnant to produce, what has now become a must-read, rural life column. What's more, this award-winning column – after some serious negotiations in the snug of The Pervert’s Appendage which resulted in all the negotiators unconscious in a heap under the pool table after an exhausting and exhaustive evening of negotiation – has been acquired as an occasional Guest Post at this very blog. The first of which appears sometime in the very near future.

Furthermore The Little Frigging in the Wold Gleaner now sports an essential Perversion of the Week Column written by my very own wife Maureen Trouser-Quandary in which she offers all-comers a chance to peruse her tips.

Not only that each week on page three of The Little Frigging in the Wold Gleaner, there is a full-colour photo-spread featuring the ladies from the cake shop all proudly displaying their baps of the week.

So, make sure that you never miss a copy of this essential read whenever you are in the vicinity of Little Frigging in the Wold.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Fully-Equipped Village Orgy Essentials

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Fairly obviously it is not always easy to get all the equipment one would like into the average sized village hall, especially when - for example – Grand Uncle Stagnant and his brace of dairymaids fancy a quick turn on his combine harvester.

However, in some cases the village hall can be made compatible with many other of the perverted arts by – for example – using a hosepipe and a trampoline, first making sure that the vol-au-vents are protected from any splashing, of course. For those interested in the more, shall we say 'well-moistened' perversions, including those who like to don their waders for a bit of (very) coarse fishing, will of course need more room to get their rods out than is usually the case in the more modest village hall and will benefit from being ensconced on the river bank and/or edge of the duck pond, depending on whether any of the ladies wish to don their fishnets in readiness for getting their hands on the catch of the day.

Obviously, no village orgy would be complete without full and frank access to a pork pie for all attendees. Although, there may – by force of circumstance – have to be a queue for the piccalilli, especially for those wanting to use it for more intimate purposes, perhaps in order to add a bit of a tang to the vestments of the village church choir.

For those who take an interest in chastisement, of course, the village hall orgy committee should always make sure there is enough room - for those who wish to - to swing a cat and/or give a badger a turn on the see-saw.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

The Erogenous Zone

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There is nothing left to say. I will leave the half-open jar of badger spleen oil here on the shelf just above the dildo rail and place my brace of sex spatulas on the shelf in readiness. If I should need the assistant librarian, she is oiled and ready and the well-polished restraining straps shine in the light from the street lamp.

It is a tense moment before any episode of the UK's new hit TV series, MasterPervert, especially when it gets to these the final rounds. However, I do feel confident that my chosen perversion: Crouching traffic warden, Bewildered moor-hen will be strong enough, even against the stiff competition*

Anyway,there is little anyone can do in these final moments except try to clear the mind and to enter that vital zone.

The mind must be clear and the body loose and supple as you try to get into the right frame of mind to enter the erogenous zone. The erogenous zone is the place where a pervert of good standing (and my standing now is very good indeed) will try to become one with his and/or her perversion of choice. One should always be ready to enter the zone, preparedness – known to the cognoscenti as 'foreplay' - is essential to prepare both yourself and the erogenous zone for your entry into it.

Too soon and the zone is not ready to receive you, too late and the moment will be lost, she may already have entered the tricky point in her knitting where any attempt to enter her erogenous zone will result in her dropping a stitch, or even force her to cast off in the middle of a row and that way only disaster lies.

 

*And I did check in the Green Room earlier and the competition - each one of them – were all stiff in the usual places, except the local politician of course. However, she was getting her research assistant to polish her mandate, so I presume by now the necessary stiffness has been achieved.

Monday, October 10, 2011

A Large Tub of Greek-Style Yoghurt

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Having said that, albeit rather quietly and without writing it down, I feel we are ready to move on. Consequently, someone like your very self who has a keener than average interest in some of the wilder, less-frequently visited, shores of the sexual landscape will no doubt already possess your own bespoke brace of sex spatulas.

It is even possible that you will perhaps have already dabbled in a bit of fully-consensual auditing, or other accountancy practices, with other freely-consenting partners. You could even be a self-confessed quantity surveyor or tarried awhile with a structural engineer or two during your younger, wilder, days when it seemed the custard would last forever.

Nowadays, though, maybe you - like I – no longer wish to engage in practices that would make a tabloid journalist blush, or a politician come out in a cold sweat, nowadays preferring the company of a mere handful of sexual partners and a large tub of Greek-style yoghurt for a nice informal get-together occasionally, perhaps only every other day or two.

If so, then maybe you ought to consider getting out your thermal fetish gear and your fur-lined sex mittens because it seems that here in the UK we have had our annual one day of summer and soon it will be winter again.

Friday, October 7, 2011

The Volunteer Fireman and his Chopper

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Little Frigging village blacksmith Strom Thighhammer is - in his other role as village volunteer fireman - of course always eager to help out any of the ladies of Little Frigging who are not quite feeling themselves, especially if they need him to use his hose to cool their over-heating ardour.

Not only that, should a lady find herself in severe distress Strom is always more than ready to get his chopper out in order to come to their assistance, no matter how urgent, or dire, their peril, in order to help them overcome their tribulations.

Quite often, Strom often finds the ladies on the verge of being overcome and with their clothing in disarray. Many times, he has said, he has come - with his chopper already in his hand - to the assistance of a lady in dire need of his services to find her lying fully disrobed and eager for his fireman's lift to take her beyond the crisis point of her current state of not knowing if she is coming or going.

However, such is the expertise with which Strom wields his chopper or manipulates his hose, the lady herself soon finds that he takes command of the situation and immediately sets about bringing her to a safe and – more often than not – satisfactory conclusion, no matter how desperate her state of distress (or undress). Not only that, many of the village ladies have made the point that Strom always seems to know just when to come and not – as many men have in the past – leave the ladies still unsatisfied and totally unsatiated through their lack of expertise with the chopper or hose.

Thursday, October 6, 2011

Whither the Lemon Meringue?

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If not the donkey, then whither the lemon meringue?”* I'm sure the very same thought must have crossed all our minds at some point as we all inspect our collection of fetish gear and check we have enough fresh batteries to last an entire weekend orgy (with buffet) in the village hall.

Sometimes, it all looks pristine and ready for action, much like Strom Thighhammer striding manfully into the village hall with his chopper already firmly in his grasp. Other times, though, everything looks a little like Old Feebletrousers after a long night's heavy philosophising in the snug of The Pervert's Appendage, a little worse for wear, frayed around the edges, strangely damp and smelling of something we know not the wot of.

Maybe your latex quantity surveyor outfit has seen better days, lost its lustre, or your once-mighty Donkey Trembler 78000B intimate massage device now splutters along like an unserviced East European people's car from before the fall of the Berlin Wall, or you donkey jacket has more peep holes than when you first wore it, or your bargepole looks more akin to a toothpick.

However, do not be downcast, for even the thought of spending several intimate hours with say, the ladies from the cake shop, our very own Postmistress, Labia Entanglements, or a brace of dairymaids should be enough to have you standing proud once more. As long as you are there at the village hall in time for the orgy and throw yourself into it with all the abandon of a vicar at at Parish Bring and Buy Fetish Gear jumble sale then I'm sure your coming will be appreciated by everyone there.

 

*Also Spake the Lemon Meringue - Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900)

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

On the Magnetism of Dairymaids

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Obviously, realigning your dairymaids to face true North is not always the most obvious course of action when you find yourself without the firmness of purpose those dairymaids have come to expect during the weekly Freestyle Orgy and Bingo Night in the village hall on Wednesday Evenings.

Obviously, never having suffered such a problem with my own predicament myself, all I can offer you is this advice proffered by a... er... friend. It did work for me... er... him, and so, consequently, I hope that any other gentleman of formerly good standing finds these wise words more than useful and has him soon back to standing proud again, much to the admiration of the ladies present at his own local weekly village hall orgy and bingo night.

It has often been remarked on by scholars of the perverse arts and sciences as to just why dairymaids are so susceptible to magnetic influences. Many have put this down to the fact that in days of yore a dairymaid was seldom seen with a metal bucket, even when she was seen wearing little, or – more often - nothing else.

Others have speculated upon the nature of the dairymaid's iron grip and how she can use this to bring any gentleman acquaintance to the peak of his ability with a few deft and practised strokes. Furthermore, she will - with a few more dexterous movements of her wrist – be able to get the gentleman to point in the direction that will bring herself the most satisfaction and this is, of course, invariably true north.

So, if any gentleman reading this finds that he has some problem with standing proud whenever the occasion demands it, then I would respectfully suggest he immediately puts himself in the hands of his nearest local dairymaid, and he will soon find himself once more a gentleman of good standing.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Grand Uncle Stagnant and his Ablutions

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Obviously, when England is basking in its summer day and the drizzle feels warm upon the skin it is not unusual to see rather more of Grand Uncle Stagnant than normally would be the case. Those of a more robust constitution and disposition can often see him on that one hot day of the English summer, disrobing himself right down to his wellies on the banks of the river Teeb, in order for the dairymaids to give him a thorough scrubbing. Those of you familiar with the Little Frigging dairymaids – and there can't be that many left who they have not been very familiar with – know what a fine pair of scrubbers they can be.

Obviously a perverteer of Grand Uncle Stagnant's long – and surprisingly firm (for his great age) – experience does need plenty of attention from the scrubbers, especially in the usually tricky to reach under-vest area, which rarely sees daylight even during some of the more intense all-village outdoor orgies on the village green at the height of the summer.

Consequently, as a matter of Health and safety for the rest of us undergoing an orgiastic experience in the near vicinity of Grand Uncle Stagnant, and his aforesaid vest, it becomes a matter of some necessity that his ablutions are undertaken beforehand. Therefore in order to show the gratitude of the rest of the orgy-goers, Strom Thighhammer, our village volunteer fireman, has taken it upon himself to insist that once the scrubbers have completed Grand Uncle Stagnant's ablutions, Strom should – in turn – give both dairymaids a very thorough seeing-to with his hose.

Monday, October 3, 2011

Measuring up to Strom Thighhammer

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Many, if not all, of the ladies of Little Frigging will – of course – be more than willing to attest what a fine upstanding man our local blacksmith and volunteer fireman, Strom Thighhammer is and are all more than keen to offer him a helping hand whenever he needs one, or two. Obviously a man of Strom’s calibre is often more than a single woman can comfortably grasp, unless she has the hands of a concert pianist able to stretch beyond an octave or so. Even then, Strom can be more than they can manage alone.

However, the Little Frigging Ladies sewing and knitting circle have often had Strom come to their assistance when they need a measuring rule to make sure of the size of whatever garments they may be constructing, as each lady in the village knows just how big Strom’s accomplishment is, down to the nearest millimetre and are all able to use it for all manner of purposes, even if it is just something to hang their coats on.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Breeding Accountants

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The weather, then, eh? How about that, interesting or what? I've been sweating like a sheep in a mint field, and seriously considering the advantages of Norway. Fjords, eh? That Slartibartfast, eh? What a good idea.

Anyway, be that as it may, I can't stand around here nattering all day, not when I need to clean the expired litigation out of the lawyer sties*. I also need to lay down a new batch of holiday brochures for the hairstylists to use for nesting materials, sometime today too.

Yes, a busy day. So, I may as well get on with it. Sometime today I also want to look into maybe getting myself a few breeding pairs of accountants (fully chartered, of course) for the lower field. It has been a fair few years now since that disastrous occasion when a pride of wild accordions got through the lower field fence and brutally savaged our flock of quantity surveyors that were only a week or two away from going to market.

Of course, as someone with your experience will know, accountants are not easy to work. All that double-entry bookkeeping can play havoc with their inherently weak wrists, and they are notoriously shy about breeding. But the rewards, and the return on the initial investment, can be quite significant, especially if you get the accountants to keep their own books.

 

*If I don't do it now, it will be several metric inches deep by the end of the week.

Monday, July 11, 2011

Taking Strom Thighhammer's Hose in Hand

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I may have mentioned before that on the one hot day of the English summer it is customary for Strom Thighhammer, our village volunteer fireman, to get his hose out in case any ladies of the village get overcome in the heat. Of course, if any of the ladies do find themselves out and about during that one hot day of the typical English summer and they espy Strom Thighhammer striding in their direction with his hose out and ready in his hand, then those ladies who feel hot will often take the precaution of lying down wherever they find themselves. Then Strom can use his hose on the ladies, even though they are not yet quite overcome.

Strom will always, of course, do his best to assuage any lady who feels herself hot and ready to be overcome, but it has been known for Strom himself to wilt in the heat and for his hose to dry up, especially if he has been in great demand by the ladies of the village.

If such a – thankfully, very rare - situation does occur, then the rest of us in he village volunteer fire service are ready to be pressed into service at a moment’s notice and are more than willing to get our own hoses out to help dampen down any ladies who find themselves feeling hot and ready for a damn good hosing.

Therefore if you happen to visit Little Frigging on the hot day of summer, please do not be too concerned to see the ladies of the village leading the volunteer fire service off into the bushes for a thorough damping down.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

A Night Out On The Town

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Well, here we go… possibly.

It has – I realise now – been a very long time since we last discussed essential sex-weasel grommet adjustment. Consequently, I think it could be an even longer time still before we discuss them again.

I see from the way you have adopted the stance of an over-loquacious Local Government Tadpole Outreach Coordinator, that you may be wishing to tap my rather – if I d say so myself – rather extensive knowledge of the mating habits of hairstylists during the mating period known colloquially as ‘A Night Out On The Town’.

However, I feel there is little more of a theoretical nature I can add to what I have already given you in various articles published here. I’m afraid you are just going to have to gird you loins and prepare yourself for a practical lesson.

Of course, not for one moment do I expect you to partake of the copious quantities of alcohol consumed by the average hairstylist during this ritual – you are after all - if I remember my biology correctly – only human.

You will, though, need to take just enough alcohol to insulate you remaining brain cells against the overwhelming inanity of the hairstylists’ conversations as the evening progresses. Once they have exhausted the perennial hairstylist topic of holidays – taken, about to be taken, putative destinations and so on, then I’m afraid there is a strong chance that the conversation will either turn to the goings on in current TV programmes of which you will only be dimly aware. The only other topic of conversation will most likely be antics of alleged ‘celebrities’ about whom you will be probably even less knowledgeable.

What?

Oh….

Right….

I see.

Well, if you do – as you say – suddenly remember you are busy on that night then we will have no choice but to leave the matter of our little excursion in abeyance until some other time.

Ah, well.

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

The Pros and Cons of Pogo-stick Use at Village Orgies

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Although it is always useful to equip yourself with a pogo-stick, especially at the more well-attended village orgies when it can sometimes be difficult to get close enough to the next dalliance partner on your orgy card, or even get to the buffet table before the mince pies have all gone. It is also sometimes something of an inconvenience to carry.

Many gentlemen, including both of you reading this, will no-doubt attest that it is sometimes very difficult manoeuvring through a rather crowded village hall orgy with your stick poking out in front of you, and can be most uncomfortable if other attendees are not careful with their errant elbows, or are carelessly disporting their cocktail sticks, especially if their are – for reasons of vanity – not wearing their glasses and are in a hurry to sample the cocktail sausages.

Ladies, too, sometimes find the pogo-stick to be more trouble than it is worth at well-attended village orgies to, especially if they are well-blessed with a well-upholstered frontage, as this can cause all manner of difficulties, from black eyes for the over-enthusiastic utiliser of the pogo-stick herself, to spilled drinks, flattened chocolate éclairs, and severe wrist injuries to any gentlemen who are forced to take themselves in hand when witnessing the effects of prolonged bouncing up and down by a well-endowed lady.

Monday, July 4, 2011

Edification for the Neophyte Perverteer

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Of course, when approaching a village hall orgy for the first time, a neophyte perverteer is bound (if they are that way inclined they should remember to bring their own rope) to feel a bit apprehensive, especially if they have spent the previous few hours attempting to feel themselves in readiness for the big day.

Obviously, it does make sense to make sure that your sex spatulas are cleaned and polished, for it does make a good impression to regular orgy-goers when they see a newcomer has made sure their sex utensils are well-cared for. There is nothing likely to put off a well-seasoned (I prefer a light vinaigrette oil and a hint of black pepper myself) perverteer than espying a pair of grubby sex spatulas poking out from a newcomer's sex utensil rucksack. Should you wish to take your own, rather than use those provided at the village hall, it also makes sense to make sure the spring in your sex pogo-stick is well-oiled too as there is nothing quite so off-putting to regular orgy-goers as the amateurish sound of squeaking springs, which will - quite often – put even the most experienced orgy attendee off his or her stroke, often in the crucial moments before the cucumber sandwiches are ready to be served, thus often leading to an unseemly rush towards the pork pies.

It also helps to be patient when in the queue to get your orgy card marked by the more popular regular orgiastic attendees, prodding, say, a cake shop assistant in the back in your eagerness to get your card marked can sometimes result in all manner of unforeseen mishaps, and it is never very edifying to have to spend a large part of one's first village orgy having to make amends with the mop and bucket.

Saturday, July 2, 2011

Indispensable Rural Perversion Tips

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Well, obviously when thinking about such rural village-specific perversions as Well Undressing it always helps if you make sure your bucket is within easy reach, especially if your post mistress has been pre-oiled in readiness. This is vital if there is any chance of an unexplained outbreak of Morris dancing, even though this is not as common as it was during the Heyday of British Leyland, of course, especially considering the terpsichorean limitations of the Morris Marina.

Speaking of commons, it should be obvious that the picnic table should always be left in the state you found it, as the country code insists, and you should make sure that you have not left a fully-disrobed and satiated assistant librarian asleep upon it, or – in the case of grand Uncle Stagnant – asleep under it.

You should also – in a rural village perversion context – make sure that you are fully cognisant of the half-day closing times of the village shops as it is always disappointing and deflating to find yourself – say – outside the village cake shop with your cream horn wilting in your hand only to discover the cake shop manageress has put her baps away and shut up shop for the afternoon.

Furthermore, any lady who has requested the assistance of a shepherd to get her pie filled will know that it is vital to give him his crook back after he has serviced her, as well as to make sure that she is able to withdraw her legs from down the front of his wellies in plenty of time for him to recover before he goes off to meet his favourite ewe.

Thursday, June 30, 2011

Amateur Fingerings, Strokings and Oral Virtuosity

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Amateur chamber music making has had quite a following in many of our rural villages, and – of course – Little Frigging is no exception, as those of you fortunate enough to see the ladies of Little Frigging performing on the trouser flute or he pink oboe will undoubtedly attest. Not only that when our post mistress, Labia Entanglements, gets her cello out and begins to caress and stroke the instrument between her thighs, most men in the audience, and quite a few of the ladies too, are soon overcome.

Even when Strom Thighhammer gets his horn out there are – usually within seconds – many ladies from the audience eager to get up on stage to join him in a threesome or quartet, or sometimes even more, with some of those ladies already stroking and tuning their violas in readiness as they prepare to mount the stage.

Although, not being one to blow my own trumpet, especially when there are so many dairymaids in the village capable of giving virtuoso displays on my instrument, I must say that the outpourings such talented ladies can get even from an instrument as humble as my own, just go to show that the rural villages of this great land often contain so many talented people who modestly like to keep their light under a bushel, at least until they can be brought out on the stage of the village hall for us all to sit back and admire their accomplishments.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

In More Mature Hands

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Of course, it goes without saying – but as usual I fully intend to say it anyway – that although the ladies of Little Frigging are always keen to offer – at least - a helping hand to any fine upstanding young man they happen to meet when going about their daily business, many of them are more than keen to come to the assistance of those of us of more mature years. That is up to and including Grand Uncle Stagnant, who despite his advanced years* has a wealth of perverted orgiasic experience he is always more than eager to pass on to any lady he can get his hands on, and quite a few he can't quite reach without the aid of his walking stick.

All-in-all there is a lot to be said for the man of experience, and quite a bit that can be said while waiting for him to get around to giving a lady his full attention. Although, once up and running – as it were – a gentleman of a more mature cast of mind is often quite capable of still being upstanding at the end of the weekly village orgy when those of a supposedly more youthful vigour have collapsed and fallen under the robust attentions of, say, a canteen manageress or post mistress.

 

 

*Recently some scientists have attempted to carbon date Grand Uncle Stagnant to discover just how old he actually is, but several decades worth of pipe ash in his turn-ups has resulted in some wildly divergent figures, putting the age of Grand Uncle Stagnant as somewhere between 6 months and slightly older than Stonehenge**.

**Although, admittedly Stonehenge has weathered somewhat better than Grand Uncle Stagnant, especially around the blue stones.

Monday, June 27, 2011

Vehicle-Related Dalliances

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There are those amongst us (both) gathered here who are – evidently – perverteers of both taste and refinement. However, there are some others who, for example, enjoy dalliances in parked vehicles, notwithstanding the dangers of a sudden unwanted gear-stick in the crevices.

Far be it from me to decry or even pooh-pooh anyone who enjoys pulling themselves off into a lay-by or secluded country parking area, but it does seem to require far more effort to achieve a mutually satisfying dalliance in the cramped confines of the modern car.

Although, having said that, Grand Uncle Stagnant has often commented on how invigorating he finds it to have a couple of farm girls giving him a hand on his combine harvester, so not all vehicles, it seems are so inconducive to furtive shenanigans as the modern car, especially if you are concerned about unwanted emissions.

Alternatively, it must be admitted that the modern hatchback does allow some inventiveness in rear entry positions, such as the AA Man's Surprise and the baggage area can often be increased by the removal of the parcel shelf for those considering inviting others to investigate their luggage space.

It should also be mentioned that it is a shame that with modern vehicles there is much less call for the infamous Hand-Cranked Damp Start, so often employed by those of a certain vintage who sometimes have trouble starting on damp mornings without a willing partner to give their handles a quick crank.

Friday, June 24, 2011

All Village Orgies and the Use of the Pudding

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No doubt you all here (both of you) are more than familiar with the essential role played by the pudding (or dessert) in the village orgy. Any regular village orgy goer (and by your interest in this particular reading matter I have to assume you are – at least a bit of – a goer) will no doubt have experienced the deep satisfaction of having warm custard poured over your crumble at a village orgy, or – in perhaps the warmer weather – having ice cream applied to your strawberries in a very erotic and deeply-stimulating manner.

Of course, many gentlemen at a village orgy will be able to whip up some fresh cream at short notice for the delectation of any ladies who request it, especially when poured over their freshly-squeezed melons.

The ladies of the village too will be more than happy to provide any gentleman who wants it with more than a taste of their own honey, especially if he enjoys it dripping down over his plums. The ladies too will always appreciate the kind comments of the gentlemen there present who take the time to compliment the ladies on the firmness of their meringue peaks, as well as the thick treacle soaking into their hot sponge puddings and the tastiness of their sweet dumplings.

Not forgetting, of course the erotic use of the jam Roly-poly between consenting adults, the delight some ladies experience when pouring their warm custard over a gentleman's spotted dick, and last, but not least, the use of hot fudge on Sundays.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

On Gentlemen Measuring up to Expectation

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Sometimes it seems that there are some gentlemen approaching an all-village orgy in the village hall with something approaching trepidation, feeling that they will not measure up to the standards the ladies of the village have come to expect. This is something that can concern most menfolk, especially if they have been in the near vicinity of a proud upstanding gentleman such as Strom Thighhammer, or even Grand Uncle Stagnant himself, famed throughout Europe in the immediate post-WWII period as the best hands-free pole vaulter in the world.

However, despite what concerns the menfolk have about how well they will measure up to the expectations of the ladies, they should not be too concerned. As we all know – or ought to know – it is not how well-polished a gentleman's sex spatulas are, it is how he wields them that matters. Many ladies of my acquaintance have expressed to me how disappointed they have been when a man with otherwise exemplary sex spatulas, or a salami any man would be proud to possess wields them with all the dexterity and finesse of a drunkard attempting to insert his card into a cash machine, or someone attempting to manoeuvre a recalcitrant hippopotamus through a turnstile.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Village Orgies and Salad Dressing

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Out on the Inter-Village Orgy pitch there is not often time to get your assistant librarians fully oiled-up before they have to defend against a free fondle for the opposing team, so sometimes it does make sense to have a bottle of salad dressing available for such purposes. It can also be useful if your leading scorer develops the dreaded itchy-knee just before trying to press home his advantage on the opposing defender's blind side.

Salad dressing is – as I'm sure a perverteer of your vast experience and knowledge is no doubt aware – an essential item for almost all village orgy situations, especially if it is rumoured that a scotch egg may be utilised by the canteen manageress to satisfy the cravings of those for whom the pork pie, with optional piccalilli, is not quite perverse enough.

However, it is advisable that the salami is best left to those ladies more experienced in dealing with matters of such size and girth, as any lady who is familiar with Strom Thighhammer and his capabilities will no doubt attest, especially if they try to walk home afterwards. This is – of course – why it is always advisable to have several wheelbarrows available at the village hall on village orgy nights, as it is possible that some attendees could find themselves completely overcome by the intensity of the experience and incapable of making their way homewards under their own steam without the danger of them falling unconscious into the duck pond.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Post-Orgy Pizza Preparations

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It seems obvious enough, but one should always approach a putative village orgy partner with due care and attention, especially if you are clutching your salami in hand ready for the post-orgy pizza preparations. In fact, it is always best to confirm it is in fact your salami you are clutching, especially if the canteen manageress charged with the preparation of the post-orgy pizza had removed her glasses when in the midst of her more energetic orgiastic philanderings.

Caution should also be exercises by those ladies tasked with the grating of the cheese, especially if some of the orgying participants have still not quite come to a mutually-satisfying conclusion. An errant cheese grater wielded too close to the naked posterior of a very active orgy participant can cause much undo soreness and add some rather unwelcome flavours to the grated cheese, especially if the enthusiastic orgyer is Grand Uncle Stagnant and he is still wearing his best orgying wellies. The taste of well-cooked shredded rubber on one’s pizza slice is not easy to forget, even after several pints of Old Resuscitator in the snug of The Pervert’s Appendage, and here I speak from personal experience.

Speaking of pizza-related post-orgying mishaps, I should perhaps warn the more enthusiastic of you that it is always best to make sure the cheese has cooled sufficiently before attempting to engage in any pizza-related perversions, or even a quick game of hunt the olive, as cooked cheese can get very hot indeed. The nurses at the local A&E unit are tempted to get a bit suspicious of persons turning up on a regular basis with severe Mozzarella burns to their intimate areas, and – once again – here I speak from personal experience.

Friday, June 17, 2011

Further Erotic Uses of Fruit

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Of course, a gentleman should always make sure he is keeping a firm grasp on his orgy dalliance partner’s melons, or even her pomegranate should the situation arise*. A gentleman in good standing too should find it not unreasonable to expect that his dalliance partner too should enjoy handling his plums and express herself more than pleased with the firmness of his banana.

We have touched upon – after, of course, washing our hands first - fruit and its exotic possibilities before. However, the subject is far from exhausted - and for those of us blessed with an imagination that has not been stultified by the banality of modern popular culture - could even be limitless.

For who can honestly say that they have even exhausted the erotic possibilities of the fig, even in the somewhat cramped and limited elbow-room of the village hall orgy, let alone utilised a punnet of strawberries to its limit in an open-air dalliance. This is especially the case when in the presence of a cake shop manageress willing to disport her scones for the delectation of all and sundry, and – especially – keen that all the gentlemen there present inundate her proffered scones with all the fresh cream they can muster between them.

 

*And if – unfortunately – the situation does not arise you should offer fulsome apologies to the lady and formally enquire if there is some other way you can be of service to her in order to bring her the satisfaction that is so deservedly hers.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

The Art of Fannying About

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Of course, it goes without saying that during an all-village orgy it is vital that the gentlemen attending (and those ladies who find such things engaging) do their utmost to ensure that there is more than enough fannying about undertaken to make sure that the female attendees get as much as they can from the experience.

Obviously, the younger a man (and/or woman) learns about the arts of fannying about the more in demand they will be at any all village orgy, either in the village hall or out on the village green during the more clement seasons of the year.

I myself was instructed in the theoretical aspects of the art by – of course – Grand Uncle Stagnant a man who has forgotten more about fannying about* than any other living** human.

After that, of course, Grand Uncle Stagnant introduced me to a brace of Little Frigging’s more experienced dairymaids for the practical lessons. Lessons of such thoroughness that I had to be carried – barely conscious - back down from the hayloft where the dairymaids tutored me.

It took me over a week to recover from that intensive study, even under the gentle administering hands of the – then – Little Frigging cake shop manageress, Patty Kake, before I was able to stand again without her helping hand.

However, such was the intensive nature of the period of study under, next too and on top of those two highly-experienced dairymaids that I never – ever – forgot the essentials of fannying about even under the most intense pressure of a competitive inter-village orgy cup match, and for that I will always be grateful to those dairymaids.

 

*Not only that he has – seemingly – forgotten more than anyone else about everything, including where he was last wearing his trousers.

** I say ‘living’ somewhat advisedly.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

On Keeping the Sellotape in Hand

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Of course, when you have the sellotape in one hand and a cake shop manageress – suitably oiled and seasoned – in the other, it is not always obvious whether to let go of one or the other in order to take your sex spatulas from your sex utensil drawer. This is especially the case when it is early on in the village orgy when the cake shop manageress is bound (if you are fortunate) to be in high demand.

However, those of us well-experienced in such matters will always prefer to keep our hands on the sellotape as the roll has a rather unfortunate tendency to roll away if incautiously put down on the village hall floor even for a moment. It can mean that several of the vital first few minutes of the village hall orgy are lost while you search for the errant roll of sellotape underneath the assistant librarians. After all, we all know how diverting it can get when searching assistant librarians for errant stationery supplies can be, especially if you – like I – once lost an entire pad of post-it notes underneath an assistant librarian when going about your in-depth researches.

After all, it is during those first few minutes of the that makes the ladies present observe that you are a member in good standing and therefore worthy of their further perusal, providing their orgy card has not already filled with the details of other male members there presenting themselves for the delectation of the ladies. Consequently, you could find yourself losing out to those other male attendees, thus leaving you as the only one left upstanding and alone before even the first tea break of the orgy.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

University Fees and the Perverse Arts and Sciences

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There has been much talk of late* about University course fees and who should pay them and how much they should be. Obviously, we at the University of Little Frigging (formerly the Cow shed at Little Frigging manor Farm) are more than keen that the students should pay as much as we can get out of them… er… the full and fair cost of their course.

As a frequent peruser of my organ, and no doubt as an enthusiastic perverteer yourself, you will know that, for example, the cost of a pair of fully bespoke sex spatulas is not cheap. Consequently, full instruction by a (nearly) qualified instructor in the perverse arts is not going to be cheap either, not to mention the costs of fresh watermelons these days, and the vet’s bill for the poor now-seemingly terminally-bewildered university goat.

As for the practical laboratory-based instruction in some of the more advanced perverse arts, such as approaching a manacled assistant librarian with a plate of fresh cream cakes without the contents of your cream horn dripping uselessly down inside your wellies, the cost of the mop and bucket alone can sometimes be as much as a fiver! It also seems that some students resent paying for their own banjo too, and expect the University to provide them.

Some students even seem to think that the theoretical underpinnings of how to approach a brace of dairymaids at an all-village orgy whilst holding a kipper using the fetish mittens in the ‘ready’ position is something that can be taught on the cheap. Even some of the staff of the university would argue, especially after a few pints in the staff common room, that such a thing cannot be taught at all. Although, most of them have the good grace – and sense – to keep such talk out of the university budget meetings.

 

*As well as some self-indulgently short-sighted and stroppy behaviour by those who would wish for others, often less fortunate than themselves, to pay for their university courses instead.