I met this gorgeous woman for some ‘afternoon-delight’.

When we ventured back to her place (well and truly ‘outta-sight’!).

We scurried up the stairs and very soon were ‘in flagrante’.

My clothes were off as she approached, in just her bra and panties.

 

We intertwined, to ‘moan and grind’, intent on pure ‘amour’

But soon were interrupted by the thumping of a door.

My lover leapt up from the bed and gasped “My husband, Malcolm”.

Then coated me in baby oil and dusted me with ‘talcum’.

 

She whispered her instructions (as she pushed me to a wall)

“Pretend that you’re a statue. Close your eyes; don’t move at all”.

I instantly obeyed and acted like I’d ‘put down roots’,

as I listened to the ‘stomping-in’ of Malcolm’s size twelve boots!

 

“What’s all this, then, Dear?”, he asked my ‘girlfriend-on-the-side’.

“Oh, it’s just a statue, Dear”, she aimlessly replied.

The ‘Smiths’ next door have got one and they said, it looked so nice

so I went and bought our own - it was a reasonable price!

 

He briefly viewed the ‘statue’ and then (much to her relief)

he did not seem to notice, she was lying through her teeth.

Nothing more was said, not even later-on that night,

when they both retired to bed (my ‘powdered-bod’ still in plain sight!).

 

I stood there in the darkness, trying not move at all.

Until, half an hour later, I caught movement in the hall.

There, facing me was Malcolm, with a sandwich and a drink.

So (now my eyes were open) I endeavoured not to blink!

 

“Here,” he said, “eat something. You’ll be feeling hunger’s pain.

Three soddin’ nights, I stood there. What a pillock! Not again!

I wasn’t going to do this, but decided that I ‘ought ter’.

‘Cos no-one at the ‘Smiths’ offered so much as a glass of water!”