Low Tea

“Shall I be Mother?” I asked holding my Oolong firmly in my hand.

“Oh yes please, if you wouldn’t mind milking me first?” She replied coyly.

“Let me make sure that I have something fresh for you”  I responded cheekily.

As I lay the strainer across the top of the rim, I wondered what biscuit or cake she would take with her tea. Will she choose a Jammy Dogger, or might she prefer a Custard Cream or maybe even a Bourbon? Is she a dunker? I really hope she isn’t one of those prudes who doesn’t like to get it wet. You can tell so much about someone by how long the dunk is. You don’t want to associate with someone who can’t judge how long you have to leave it in, to little and it isn’t lubricated enough to swallow, but if you leave it too long it will go soft and droop. And maybe even slide down your front.

As the steam wafted from her hot cup, I watched closely as she inspected what I had on offer. Her hand moved slowly over each item as if she could judge how tasty they might be from mere proximity. Every now and again her hand would dip ever so slightly towards one of the delicacies awaiting her full and tender lips and my hopes would rise, but she was only teasing. I glanced at her lovely face and was glad to observe that she was quite focused on the task at hand. No just grabbing the first thing that caught her eye, but a reasoned and calculating consideration of what would satisfy her the best.

Much to my surprise she select none of the sweet delights that I had arranged for her and placed her hand firmly back in her lap.

“I am sorry to be a bother, but I wonder if you might have what I have really been craving?” Her voice trembled just a bit as she spoke.

“You have but to request it my dear and I shall present it for your pleasure if it is within my power to do so”

“I would…I would like…” She seemed nervous and reluctant to continue.

“Please don’t be shy, there is no judgement, only a willingness to slake your desires”

“Well, what really would fill the gap would be…”

“Yes, yes, tell me please dear one!”

“A hot crumpet”

I nearly swooned with passion on being able to share such a hot buttery delight with this creature from heaven.

“Oh God, yes, that is it! Just the thing to complete our dalliance” I cried and rushed to fetch the butter and jam to take us both to heaven.

“Oh good sir, you have raised such a pounding in my breast, I think I shall need you to fill my cup, again, and again.”

As we each partook of our tea and crumpet, delighting in the moans of satisfaction I wondered how anyone could think that the people of these great British Isles didn’t display any passion.

Perhaps they had never seen us at tea.

Michael,

This post was inspired by a twitter conversation with Girl on the Net, sexblogofsorts and Molly. Please note that the Jammy Dogger is misspelled intentionally because that is how Molly tweeted it and I found it vastly amusing.

For my murrican readers I am sure this post starts off with a mystifying line and if you ask I will try to explain.