The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 7 (Part 18)

I hissed on an inhalation when Mr. Jones-Smyth ran his stubby thumbnail the length of my cane welts one at a time. I swelled with pride at his appreciative remarks. “You look magnificent, Ruby, with purple grid imprinted on scarlet arse. A man would have to be carved from marble not to be inflamed by your succulent thatch.” I beamed. “And are you such a man, Sir?” In response, I felt his satin charger nuzzle my quivering garden of delight. Like fresh dew on rose petals, my cherry unfurled to greet the rampant desire of stiffened rod. The barrier sundered.

You can go to this page which has links to all the complete previous chapters.

9 Comments

  1. What glorious eloquence! I absolutely love it.
    Fancy leaving it there… One of these days you’ll drive me totally batty (battier!).

    Liked by 1 person

    • I like to throw in a totally absurd grammatical drabble a least once every couple of weeks.

      Liked by 1 person

      • I know; I look forward immensely to each one. 😊

        Like

        • Are you all caught up now? 🙂

          Like

          • Um…I think I might have read out of order, or missed some. I shall have a Bumhampton fest this week, just to be sure. I also know there are other posts of yours that I need to return to. Never fear: Normal service will be resumed with my own next blog post. It puts a few things into perspective. 😊

            Liked by 1 person

            • Gee, now you sound like Network Rail.

              ‘Your attention please. Due to track work, all trains are diverted until further notice to a station you can’t possibly reach. Have a nice day.’

              Liked by 1 person

  2. Love it😊

    Liked by 1 person


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