Ah dear yes
now.
Permit me an indulgence
while I sigh the name Jilly Goolden.
Ah, me. Well-aged, ripe and fruity Jilly
Goolden. Her moniker alone is enough to
stiffen the sinews and summon up the blood
– like a fine, oak-cask red on a balmy
autumn evening. And it was on just such
an evening, dear friends, that I had the
tremendous good fortune to assist fair Jilly
at a wine event where she was speaking.
Jilly had been invited
to launch a new wine and upon seeing your
beloved correspondent in the crowd, rushed
to me full of confidences that she had a
terrible head cold and could not taste a
thing! Well bless me if I didn’t know
exactly what she needed.
Tools of the trade:
A good nose
A fruity body (in a panama hat)
Thin lips
Charm
Vibro eggs
No sooner had I finished
explaining my plan than Jilly’s name
was called, and I followed her up onto the
stage. As she made her opening remarks I
lowered my face into her proffered rim and
inhaled deeply.
“Musty,”
I whispered into her ear, my voice like
skin on velvet.
“Reticent
at first, but then keen and yielding,”
and with that she was under my spell.
“Enveloping,”
I went on. “Moist.”
“Great depth,”
I said, allowing the tip of my tongue to
wet her ear lobe. “H-h-hard.”
Needless to say Jilly’s
hands were shaking so much as she paraphrased
my critique that she nearly spilt wine all
down my blazer! Hurriedly she finished her
speech and whisked me out into a London
taxi cab.
“Your place or mine?”
she asked, pulling my hand ungraciously
toward her crotch. I quipped that if she
came back to my place I could ensure she
got her lips around some particularly full-flavoured
grapes.
By the time we drew near
to Havers HQ, Jilly had visibly, mysteriously
cooled off.
“Satisfying!”
I ejaculated in an attempt to rekindle her
flame. “Er.. full-bodied,” I
ventured. “YEASTY!”
Well, that was my mistake
right there, readers. As entrancing as Nigel
Havers’s voice may be, like a soft
breeze on a summer's day speeding the flight
of Cupid’s arrow, one suspects your
narrator may have said quite the wrong thing.
Jilly left the car in
a hurry and I am afraid that on this occasion
the pleasure, and the cab fare, were all
mine.
Pippity-pip then,
N.H.
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