Thursday, June 30, 2011

Amateur Fingerings, Strokings and Oral Virtuosity


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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.

Monday, June 13, 2011

The Formal Orgies of Yesteryear


In the modern world, of course, all-village orgies in the village hall are not the formal affairs they once were. Throughout the long – and rather moist – history of the village orgy there has been a tradition of the attendees arriving in more formal wear, including the all-important hat.

For, back in those days, if a gentleman attendee liked the look of a lady’s titfer then he would approach while raising his own and clutching it firmly in both hands approach the lady and respectfully ask if he could have the pleasure of the next dalliance.

In those days, it was considered very bad form to engage in orgiastical practices without wearing a hat at all times – expect for the underarm full overback milkmaid and pomegranate perversion, of course. There are even some rather stern editorials in rural village newspapers of the late 1950s and early 1960s of the growing tendency for the younger, more racy, generations of orgy-goers to dispense with the hat altogether. This led many of the editorial writers to wonder how these youngsters would cope with engaging in orgiastical practices with other orgy-goers of – say – the rank of Lady Mayoress, the local MP, or even the local vicar, especially when divested of his vestments, without the then requisite headgear.

However, from today’s standpoint where very few village orgy-goers wear a hat – except for Strom Thighhammer and his fireman’s helmet, of course - we can safely say that their fears were completely unfounded. Having said that though, there is something about having a deerstalker when confronted by a pair of assistant librarians dressed only in riding hats and boots that can make a man - even of Grand Uncle Stagnant’s advanced years - feel himself once again.

Friday, June 10, 2011

The Full English

Many visitors to our English rural heartlands from foreign parts – or even as far away as Wolverhampton – are sometimes confused by the signs outside some of our rural village cafés, restaurants, cake shops and other such places offering patrons ‘The Full English’. Of course, those of you (both) who regularly peruse my organ will be more than familiar with such staples of the perverted arts and sciences of rural Britain. Consequently, you will be more than familiar with this usage of the hot sausage, optional black pudding, the chance to dip your fried bread and the waitress offering you her warm baps to wipe your plate clean afterwards.
Of course, as with most such descriptions ‘The Full English’ can be very different in each place you visit. In many places, of course, the ladies - and any gentlemen with an interest in musical theatre - will be offered hot sausage, polony or black pudding, depending upon which is that particular chef’s menu item of choice.
Gentlemen will – of course – be offered a wide choice of warm and moist delicacies in which they will be encouraged to dip their fried bread and anything else they wish to enjoy.
Furthermore, both ladies and gentlemen will be offered – of course – a chance to spread some butter and marmalade over whatever takes their fancy from the rack on the table. They will as well be offered a chance to dunk their biscuits should they still feel they need something to round off their repast and to set themselves up for the rest of the day.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Inter-Village Orgy Matches and Injuries


Injuries out on the orgy pitch can – of course – sometimes be quite a problem. It is not just a matter of the dread itchy knee, which – by its very nature – makes continuing in a full competitive inter-village somewhat problematical, there are other – sometimes equally debilitating – injuries that can seriously affect your inter-village orgy squad team.

As with any orgiastical event there is always the danger of errant elbows and knees, especially when – in a competitive orgy – the gravy starts to flow freely. Then there is the danger – if a free fondle is awarded by the match official - of twisting an ankle should the defender’s flippers slip on the excess salad oil that is usually applied during the free fondle.

It is always a good idea for your orgy team to get into the habit of wearing shin pads and orgy mittens in order to reduce the chance of injury when out on the field. Orgy mittens are especially useful, not only to avoid injury, but also if the players are trying to keep a firm grasp on their sex spatulas, especially in a scrum, or if engaged in a quick ruck near the sidelines.

Not only that there is also the danger of a nasty peck to the exposed flesh should someone unnecessarily startle the chicken, so it is always best to make sure that every member of the team also wears a hat.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

The Ploughman’s Lunchbox


Of course, it is a well-known fact that the Ploughman’s Lunch, far from being an invention of some advertising or marketing executive as the old folk tale has it, was - in fact - invented by the ladies of an English rural Village cake shop, who were all keen to sample the ploughman’s lunchbox. They did this to enable the ploughman to have plenty of time left over in his lunch hour to give those very ladies of the cake shop a demonstration of his ploughing abilities.

Of course, it was always possible, providing the ploughman kept control of his sweet pickle, for him to eat his ploughman’s lunch while ploughing the cake shop ladies to their full satiation.

Of course, not to be outdone by such demonstrations of culinary invention, Grand Uncle Stagnant has come up with a similar idea to help his dairymaids, by filling a baguette with his famed hot sausage for them to take into their mouths without having to take their hands from the cow’s udders.

Furthermore, the ladies of Little Frigging have taken it upon themselves to take turns in holding the tool of our local blacksmith, and amateur fireman, Strom Thighhammer, whenever he stops for a break. Each of the ladies is more than willing to offer him a place of warmth to put his tool when he is away from his forge, so that he does not catch a chill.

Monday, June 6, 2011

The Europerversion Orgy Contest


Since the heyday of that great Europe-wide cultural achievement that was It’s a Knockout (or Jeux Sans Frontières as it was called in foreign), there has been a dearth of inter-European competition on the TV screens of Europe, apart of course from the Eurovision Song Contest, which doesn’t really count except as a way to scare non-Europeans.

However, eager to find something that will somehow make the peoples of Europe despise them less, the EU has decided – probably in a post long-lunch stupor – that a Europe-wide televised Inter-Village orgy season is the way to go.

Of course, the Inter-Village Cup winners Championship League Cup Winners Cup Cup, has had a long – and often quite moist - history. However, the EU parliament has decided that this is not quite enough and they want to create a new from of bureaucratic nightmare out of which a new EU-wide Inter Village perversion league and cup will emerge.

Of course, the most obvious problem here is making sure that the various perversion standards of each country entering the competition are compatible. This is especially true of the UK, Ireland and certain parts of Portugal* which still use Imperial perversions, as opposed to the metric-based perversions of other countries such as France and Germany. Other incompatibilities are the long French lunch break and the use of the baguette, and the German insistence on lederhosen-based perversions. There is also the problem of just how to incorporate Danish meatballs and Italian spaghetti into a fully-consensual village orgy situation, especially if the Belgians insist on the free use of the mayonnaise.

However, EU bureaucrats are sure that –given sufficient long lunches and more than generous expense accounts – they should have a draft outline of a feasibility study into the possibility of whether to go ahead or not in due course, should be ready by the end of this century… possibly.


*A curious artefact of the Peninsula war when English troops under Arthur Wellesley (later the Duke of Wellington) helped bring about the introduction of English perversions to the rural areas of Portugal.