The photo of the gorgeous creature above is provided by Sandmanjazz, who invited us to use one of the pictures on his post as inspiration to write something and then to link back to his original post. Did I explain that properly? Well…here is a the begining of little fantasy erotic fiction series for you…all written through the eyes of Harold.
ADVISORY NOTE: Content for ADULTS ONLY. Contains explicit references to sexual activity.
After Sheila asked for a divorce, I felt fully entitled to sign myself up to every dating agency that showed up with my Google searches. I had to set up a profile on each site, providing my age and location, interests and hobbies, a photograph and a general description of myself. In response I had “winks”, “friend requests” and private messages from a long list of cardi wearing, Ovaltine drinking, violet permed, twinkly eyed grandmothers and retired district nurses. I was not impressed.
Where were all the totty? My drinking pals down at the The Hare And Hound told me that dating agencies could spice up my love life. The photos I had seen on the profiles of women who checked out my profile all looked as if they should be responding to casting calls for “Last Of The Summer Wine“. I was trying to decide whether to extend my free first month’s membership and start paying £12.99 per month, or perhaps upgrade to the deluxe member status for £19.99 per month, when I realized that I should give attention to an area I had been neglecting.
Since Sheila had left the house and moved in with Gino, her personal trainer at the gym, the stack of laundry in the utility room had been mounting up. I had thought I could keep on top of the cleaning myself, but as it turns out, after six weeks on my own, the place looked like it needed a woman’s touch. I had placed an advertisement on Gumtree to try and find a cleaner who could spend a couple of hours getting on top of the ironing and give the place a bit of a dust round.
There were several responses to my advert. I replied to all of them asking if they were available to come the following day for an interview. After watching the first half of the Arsenal match against Everton, I checked my inbox. The first two replies were from applicants saying they could not come the following day, but asking if another day was possible. The third was from an applicant named Tatiana who got straight to the point stating: “THUSDEY I CUM, YOU SEE ME WORK IT, I PLESSE YOU, YOU LET ME CUM AGEN. YOU REKWIRE LIVE OR NO LIVE, I WANT LIVE, I NEED SLEEP WITH YOU. I LOSE MY LAST PEST BEKOZ OF MAD WITCH.”
I was hoping that her cleaning and ironing were better than her spelling, but I was tickled by Tatiana’s affirmative that she could attend an interview. As soon as I opened the door to her I decided instantly that she could have the job. What a knock-out! You should have seen her! Blonde, slim figure, huge bazookas…I mean gigantic!
I wished the boys down at the pub could have seen her. Coming up with an excise to take a photo of her, I told her that all the applicants were supposed to send a photo with their CV, but she had forgotten to. So she agreed to pose for me while I took a picture with my phone’s camera. Very cheekily I asked her, “Just out of curiosity, are they real?”
Tatiana giggled, “Many men asking me this question. You English never saw real woman. English women have flat chest”.
I offered Tatiana a drink. While I was filling up the kettle, she was looking around the open plan kitchen dining room where I thought I would interview her. I saw her trail her finger over the furniture and inspect the dust it had collected, and then shake her head and tut. I held out a mug of tea for her and she lent over the counter to take it. Yikes! I felt myself becoming hard. I clutched my mug and took a sip of the hot tea, trying to calm myself down.
“Let’s sit down at the table, shall we?” I suggested, hoping the table top would hide the incriminating evidence. We chatted for around fifteen minutes. Tatiana told me about her cleaning experience, working as a chalet maid in a Swiss ski resort, and then coming to England to work in hotels. She had then become a live-in housekeeper for a couple on a country estate in Wiltshire. It was clear she was fond of that job. Apparently the “mad witch” she had mentioned in her email the day before was the lady of the household. She had accused Tatiana of trying to steal her husband.
Tatiana seemed keen to assure me that was not the case. I could not understand everything she said, her broken English was harder to work out than her email was. But I gathered that from Tatiana’s perspective, the gentleman who owned the estate had told Tatiana that he was in a loveless marriage and she had sympathised with him, offering him a listening ear and comforting words. She had tried to encourage him to be more romantic with his wife and make her feel special. This bloke had then told Tatiana that the reason there were problems with his marriage was because he couldn’t perform in the bedroom.
Overtime Tatiana had began to research how he could tackle his sexual dysfunction problems. She shared her tips with him: fantasising, watching pornography and masturbating . He had seemed embarrassed by some of these and had asked Tatiana if she would help him. So she tried to develop exciting fantasies for him, found some porn sites and held his hand while they watched live sex and then gave him some tips on technique for masturbating. Whenever this guy had an erection she would cheer for him and tell him he was doing really well and to try these methods before the next time he made love to his wife.
Again and again he would go back to her claiming that when he had tried to make love to his wife, he had not been able to perform. So Tatiana suggested going to the pharmacy to buy some Viagra. He had followed through on her suggestion. But again he reported back to her that even though he had managed to have an erection, it was so long since he and his wife had enjoyed intercourse he had not known how to go about sex. According to Tatiana, the geezer was in tears, lamenting that he did not know what to do and that he was sure his wife was going to leave him for a younger man.
Tatiana obviously fell hokl, line and sinker for this act. The poor girl agreed that while his wife was away visiting her parents, she would coach her boss to know what to do next time he tried the Viagra. Tatiana said she was able to help him overcome his fear and feelings of inadequacy she and trained him how to make love to his wife by taking part in a practical demonstration. It sounded to me as if the dirty geezer ended up shagging her silly! He might have got away with it if it had not been for Tatiana leaving her thong in their bed.
So she had lost her job and at the same time her home. For the past few weeks she had been sleeping on the sofa at a friend’s house and working in the local chippy, but she wanted to get back into housekeeping. She made it clear that she was looking for a live-in housekeeper post. How could I possibly say no to the poor girl? I felt sorry for her after she had been taken advantage of by her former boss. We agreed that as well as handling the laundry and ironing and cleaning the house, she would also do the shopping and prepare meals. I told her she could decide her own schedule.
I asked her when she wanted to start working as my new housekeeper. The following day she a taxi cab dropped her off with her four suitcases full of clothes. What would the boys say when they saw Harold’s new housekeeper?
Well…in case you are wondering, Harold and his new housekeeper Tatiana will be making future appearances on RASPBERRY RIPPLES.