Jane Doughtery’s prompt this week is
Caleb Spume led a sheltered life, absorbing 19th century fiction and eschewing the internet. Dolores Pebble dreamt of finding a Regency man and dressed accordingly.
At a Jane Austen revival and mindfullness retreat, an immediate attraction drew them together and, over a spicy fruit cup, they coyly tested the other’s boundaries.
To their friends’ delight and their families’ relief, their courtship moved through carefully plotted stages and, after six months of stepping out, Caleb announced he and Dolores were to wed. Banns were read, the Church booked and festivities planned. But as the date approached, Caleb became distracted and then anxious. Up to this point his reading had given him all the guidance he needed to live the life he craved. What though was he meant to do on his wedding night to ‘satisfy’ his bride? It couldn’t be food, though that was the only time he had heard her express herself satisfied.
In despair he took himself to the art gallery. In his limited experience art was generally more helpful than novels when it came to matters physical. He absorbed his lessons well.
And so, the party over, Dolores found herself standing in her bridal suite, awaiting her groom who had disappeared into the bathroom. ‘Close your eyes my love’
She shivered, lips puckered as she heard the door creak open. Moments extended to millennia and cramp took hold of her jaw. She ventured a peek and was astonished to see the man she loved naked in front of her, a posey of flowers in his hands held high over her head. He didn’t seem inclined to move.
Gently Dolores stepped forward. ‘Caleb, darling.’
‘Yes my sweet.’
‘I think you should drop the flowers.’ She lowered her gaze. ‘And perhaps you should pop your willy back on.’