She’d invited me around to her place for the evening. I’d already heard the rumours. Apparently, the postman had seen her sitting knitting – stark naked – in her conservatory, and there had been frank talk of her cupcakes in the newsagents. So, I went there prepared, taking my Ludo board and a bottle of sherry, just in case. I also wore my lucky mittens in case things got intimate later on. It was a cool night, right in the middle of the English summer, so the rain was pouring down and my wellies were not as pristine as they once were, so I had to leave the majority of my clothing in her porch.
Still, casual semi-nudity is – apparently – all the fashion in metropolitan areas these days and we here – out in the sticks – are not ones to let these fashions pass us by. So, when she came to the door to let me in, she was wearing only a string of pearls and a pair of ankle socks.
All this – as you must realise by now – made the Ludo board superfluous. Up until that night I’d always regarded a game of Strip Ludo as the ideal ice-breaker for all manner of social events, from these intimate dinners for two right up to and including meetings of the local council planning committee.
Anyway, the rest of the evening was spent engaging in some of the most unusual sexual activities I have ever become involved in, and I once spent an evening with a folk singer in Stoke-on-Trent, but I’m sure that you would find any further revelations about that sort of thing all rather tedious… so I’ll end it here.
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