Confessions from the Clink. Timothy Lea
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Название: Confessions from the Clink
Автор: Timothy Lea
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Зарубежный юмор
isbn: 9780007544530
isbn:
Now without a stitch, apart from anything left behind in her appendix scar, Daisy pulls back the sheets and slips in beside me.
‘Oh,’ I gulp. ‘Oh, oh.’
I try to sound like a chocolate tester being subjected to a new taste sensation. My barely restrained enthusiasm obviously communicates itself to Daisy because she slumps across my chest so that I can feel her breasts like two heavy bags being dumped on a customs officer’s desk.
‘Have you ever done this before?’ she says. ‘With a girl?’
I am not certain I like the last bit very much. Have you noticed how difficult it is to try and change people’s minds once they have formed an impression of you?
‘I’ve tried,’ I say bravely.
Her hand is toying with my action man kit again and there is no doubt that percy is eager for action.
‘You shouldn’t have any problems,’ she says encouragingly. ‘Why don’t you put it in?’
‘Put it in?’ I croak.
‘Gordon Bennet!! Give it here.’ With an impressive display of champion skills Daisy Deacon puts a hammer-lock on my hampton and manoeuvres it into the position where it can do the most damage. ‘Now push. There we are. That’s nice, isn’t it? It’s nice for me anyway.’ Just in case I should try and make a bolt for it, Big D grabs hold of the cheeks of my ask-me-no-questions and applies sufficient pressure to make me think she may be attempting a crotch swallow. This is a tempting proposition but the time has now come for me to shed the Robin side of my nature and make with a bit of Batman. From Cock Robbing to Batterman, in fact. With one bound – or extensive wriggle – I am free and directing my energies to a sustained bout of pelvis pounding.
‘Oh!’ squeaks Daisy. ‘Oh! Oh! Oh!’
It is as well that my morning exertions with Mrs. Sinden have taken the edge off my appetite as it would be very easy to come to the boil too soon with Daisy. She has the happy knack of giving you the happy knackers and should wear a flashing sign saying ‘loves it’ across her wide Miss Houri bosom.
‘You’re a quick learner,’ she gasps. ‘I’ll say that for you.’
‘There’s nothing to it, really, is there?’ I pant. ‘I must have had some kind of blockage in the past.’
‘You want to stick to girls, dear. It’s much better for you in the long run. Much better for them, too. Ooh, that is nice. I feel as if I’ve just had a champagne enema.’
‘You don’t look as if you have an enema in the world,’ I say wittily. ‘Oh, I’m so glad you looked in.’
‘So am I.’ And so saying the good lady hauls me to her and proceeds to try and batter a hole in the mattress. Two can play at that game and in less time than it takes to explain to an Irishman that he can move a wheelbarrow from one place to the other without using another wheelbarrow, we are thundering into what I hope is a grandstand finish. Our happy howls are almost too large for the cell and when we at last collapse into a panting heap there falls a silence in which I can sense the rest of the prison holding its collective breath and wondering what is going to happen next.
What happens next is that the door opens and Rosie comes in. There is a pink flush in her cheeks and her eyes appear to be watering but I do not pay too much attention to that.
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