Dear Diary,
I made a miraculous recovery and rose determined to see the end of this farce. Mr Wynde was ever present at every turn, throughout the day, smiling and waving at me from near and afar. Naturally, I was not wholly ignorant and conversed with him when I was forced too but always contrived to extricate myself upon the grounds of pressing business. In fact my only pressing business was to find Ned and I came to realise eventually that Ned did not wish to be found. No one had seen him since before breakfast nor knew of his whereabouts and I had almost surrendered myself to defeat in the hunt, late this afternoon, when I discovered him quite by chance.
I had searched the grounds for signs of him and found none so sat to rest awhile beneath a large sycamore tree in the furthest corner of the garden. I was pondering my next move when I heard a magpie chatter in the branches above. How those birds mock me in my hours of desperation! I scowled and ignored it but when it chattered for the second time I picked up a stone from the ground nearby and stood and looked up in the branches...and there was Ned sat upon one of it's lowest branches, his legs dangling. He smiled cheerily and waved shyly but I saw him mouth the word 'bugger!'
I smiled back and then in vexation, thrust the stone at him. He was as surprised as I was at the surety of my aim and ducked to dodge it, lost his balance and toppled backwards off the branch. I gasped as I saw him fall and then suddenly his plummet was halted and he found himself hanging upside down, his breeches caught upon some hidden protuberance from the branch upon which he had sat. I rushed forward and reaching up could just grasp his shoulders.
"I'll go get help." I reassured him, but as I released my grip on him he dropped a little lower and he cried out; "No, keep hold, I'm slipping."
Slowly at first and then with gathering momentum the branch stripped him of his breeches.
Ned was crying "Oh! Oh! Oh!" ....at every inch he decended and I tried to hold him up as best I could but as he finally slipped out of his breeches completely, his weight was too much and we both fell to the floor.
That is how Mr Wynde discovered us...Ned astride me with his head between my legs weeping with joy at his safe return to earth and I beneath him straddled by his naked thighs, panting heavily.
It was certainly an end but not the one I had envisaged.
Mr Wynde left shortly after. The fellow never even said 'Goodbye'.
Can you believe that?
Kristin Chenowith - Home
14 years ago
5 comments:
Ned astride me with his head between my legs weeping with joy at his safe return to earth and I beneath him straddled by his naked thighs, panting heavily.
Oh, an image I shall carry with me into my dreams!
-Your h
Dear Wayne,
Yes I would believe anything you concocted. I think you are quite the little schemer to find such a method of getting Ned out of his breeches and having your way with him. I delight with every sentence. " ....at every inch he descended and I tried to hold him up as best I could " ya sure Wayne pull the other one it has bells on it hahaha! I don't blame you one little bit, I'd have done the same.
Yours with merriment,
B.
My dear Mr Moose,
There was nothing machiavellian about it...it all occurred quite innocently though there were incidents of farse....I mean farce.
Yours honourably,
Wayne Austen
My dear mysterious Dr 'h',
When you've used it in your dreams...can I have it back, please?
Yours possessively,
Wayne Austen
HILARIOUS!!
Yours merrily,
Sir Studly Buckwell
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