Ah good heavens!

My dears I’m afraid I must begin with a polite and, if you will, characteristically charming apology. In this, my most intimate, proud and majestic column I have somehow neglected to share with you the story of my most erotic brush with fame ever! Rest assured my cheeks are flushed with shame and my buttocks are firm with anticipation – so without further ado, I must tell you of the time I met Nanette Newman.

What a lady! By luck I happened to be understudying Ms Newman on one of her many magnificent oeuvres, the Fairy Liquid ads, just at the moment that she needed me most. At the end of a day’s filming both cast and crew had disappeared in a trice the very moment the director shouted “cut!” - leaving poor Nanette with all that washing up. I knew just what she needed.

Tools of the trade:
Chinos
Cravat
Charm
A tongue as long as it is smooth
Scrubbing brush
Panama hat
Dutch cap

Rolling up the sleeves of my billowing silk shirt, I skipped across the hall to Nanette’s side, taking her hands in mine and pledging to do my best and nothing but my best. What soft hands, I thought to myself as we divvied up the labour. Nearly as soft as my face! Nanette would wash, we agreed, and I would dry.

Needless to say, dear readers, we were there for many hours. But how short those precious hours seemed! We chatted freely about matters of the heart - past hurts, future hopes, and my present, regular and frequent wet dreams. Nanette hinted several times that she could "go much further" than other washer-uppers I might have met, and that "making it last" was her forte. Meanwhile I told her that I had worn out my fair share of scrubbers in a lifetime of service to womankind and that I’d be more than willing to come round and buff her cups any day.

Before I knew it our pile of washing up was reduced to just one big mixing bowl, caked in whipped cream. Egged on by the suggestive undercurrent of our chat I saw this as a chance to demonstrate my legendary prowess. Grabbing the bowl with both hands I plunged my face boldly into its soft wetness and kissed it a thousand times, before withdrawing slowly to lick it, teasingly, all around the rim. Holding Nanette’s astonished gaze I then pushed my chin and mouth further into the bowl and delved my tongue deep inside, sucking up every last drop before coming up, my face covered in cream, to kiss her her sultry lips.

Nanette smacked me so hard on the back of the head with her scrubbing brush I passed out there and then. And what strange and wildly erotic dreams I had about her while I was concussed! Oooh, greasy, Nanette!

Waking up surrounded by nurses in my hospital bed the next day, I realised with a smile and a cresting erection that the pleasure, once again, had been all mine.

Dib-dib,

N.H.