Friday, November 18, 2011
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.