Tea and Crumpet

Colin had not felt this way for a long time, but then again it had been a while since he had drunk tea. Being brought up, surrounded by the aged and the permed, he developed something of an aversion to anything that came hot, black and in cups.

Indeed a life spent around Aunts had caused other issues. He associated Aunts with tea, hats and coarse knitwear. That combination of being scoured and pinched brought on a skin allergy that was triggered whenever a friction quotient in excess of 15 combined with a pressure above of 15 pounds per square inch.

Meeting Rosebud (who didn’t blame her parents for her name, but rather a deaf birth registrar) changed his life. He coped, he thought admirably, with her insistence that any physical entangling had to be accompanied by a brew, while seeking to limit the resultant contact in ways that kept his skin clear.

Finally, nature’s hard-wired instinct to procreate and a tongue that appeared to be both double-jointed and unfeasibly elongated overwhelmed even his defences.

Colin sat in bed in a post-coital fug, cradling a stomach that contained in excess of a litre of Ceylon silvertip first pickings with one hand, while discreetly creaming his now obscenely inflamed scrotum with a proprietary paraffin gel, the only substance he had found to constrain an epidemic of hives.

He shifted position and grimaced. The dermatological disaster that was his penis wasn’t his only problem. Tentatively he twisted round and while his early yoga lessons hadn’t progressed very far it was plain to see that even a merely competent fingerprint expert could lift a perfect example of Rosebud’s whorls from his much-cramponed buttocks.

In theory she was a lover’s delight with her anaconda-esque thighs and hips that could develop a thrusting power to far exceed a hyped-up Airbus 380, but so far as Colin was concerned something had to give.

First though, while these superficial passion tattoos were an irritation, was the question of what to do about the fermenting tea and in particular the intestinal infarction that imbibing had induced. Tea of this high quality, it seemed, was something of a gut gazumper, an alimentary alienator. The tumultuous thunderings that had developed since the elastic and ecstatic Rosebud had withdrawn to the bathroom, promising ‘round two’ shortly, appeared to be centred somewhere between his pancreas and prostate and had, to Colin’s growing anxiety, something of a tsunami feel to it.

Any moment Rosebud would return for more of the promised ‘Rumpty-tumpty’ and he knew, with the same certainty that he knew his Aunt’s knitwear would never be described as the new black, that that the flagrantly unfragrant fissile fusillade of flatulence that would follow would finally finish their febrile fumblings.

Colin, however, wasn’t of an inclination either to rush or to give up. He let go of his stomach and, leaning back,  reached for a cigarette. He toyed with his lighter while he cogitated.

Timing in love as in life is everything. While Colin flicked the flint, seeking to induce a spark, in the bathroom Rosebud’s concentration momentarily wavered. Her hands, still slippery with soap and seminal fluid lost their grip on her tea cup sending it to the hard floor where it appeared to vaporise.

Her involuntary grasp, audible through the half-opened door sounded to Colin not so much redolent of shock as her recently reached climax. The memory of his initially exquisite and subsequently excruciating ejaculatory response to her moment of high passion had two consequences: first his grip on the lighter tightened; second Colin’s pelvic resistance ceased.

A simple example of why chemistry is taught in schools as a preparation  for real life and not just as a means of annoying students ensued. Methane (CH4) with an auto ignition of 580C, when subjected to a Butane flame of circa 880C will inevitably combust. Under pressure from an irritated colon it escapes at 95 metres per second. Flame throwers are less effective. If such a flame meets a sheen of paraffin then the consequences are almost instantaneous as they are inevitable.

When Rosebud emerged from the bathroom moments later, gloriously naked and ready for more, she took in Colin’s surprised expression and immolated genitals. In that second she knew, at last, she had meet a man not only with a matching red hot passion, but also with the sort of dedication to the ultimately sybaritic lifestyle that might be short-lived but would certainly be seared both into their memories and their privates.

About TanGental

My name is Geoff Le Pard. Once I was a lawyer; now I am a writer. I've published four books - Dead Flies and Sherry Trifle, My Father and Other Liars, Salisbury Square and Buster & Moo. In addition I have published two anthologies of short stories, Life, in a Grain of Sand and Life in a Flash. More will appear soon, including a memoir of my mother's last years. I will try and continue to blog regularly at geofflepard.com about whatever takes my fancy. I hope it does yours too. These are my thoughts and no one else is to blame. If you want to nab anything I post, please acknowledge where it came from.
This entry was posted in creative writing, flash fiction, miscellany, short story. Bookmark the permalink.

13 Responses to Tea and Crumpet

  1. JT Twissel says:

    Oh my goodness! Fifty Shades of Colin!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Anabel Marsh says:

    I have never read a sex scene like it! Poor old Colin.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Oh my! And over first coffee too! First up, full points for the best bit of alliteration in a long while – if ever – and second, despite all the other wonderful choices, my favourite line ‘Being brought up, surrounded by the aged and the permed……..’ which caused a hearty laugh that sploshed the coffee from the mug in my hand and halfway to my eager lips, onto the newly bathed puppy’s luxurious winter coat!!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Rowena says:

    Only you could’ve written this Geoffle and I love the effusive use of alliteration, in phrases like: “flagrantly unfragrant fissile fusillade of flatulence”. I could see Colin being played by John Cleese. I’m not sure who would be fit to play Rosebud…possibly Jamie Lee Curtis. Not sure. Well, I l;ove it anyway.
    Was surprised not to find a response to the Royal Wedding on your blog, as we usually exchange posts on the latest nuptual. I did my usual thing of taking photos from the couch and had a bit of a banter going with friends on FB. My daughter wants to have her own castle and my husband did point out our very own fairytale story of Mary Donaldson from Tassie marrying the Prince of Denmark. My husband told her Mary was working in the bar when they met, where she’s actually very high educated and they met in a bar through friends.
    Anyway, our young man though Her Majesty looked fantastic in “hi-viz”. I don’t know if you have that term over there, but it’s the protective clothing tradies wear.
    Here’s the link: https://beyondtheflow.wordpress.com/2018/05/20/royal-wedding-a-front-row-view/
    Best wishes,
    Ro

    Like

    • TanGental says:

      Hi viz iz the zame here. The Bloggers Bash has taken all my energy over the last three days so posts ancient and modern are stacking up in the inbox hence the lack of a response…. thanks for the kind comments…

      Liked by 1 person

      • Rowena says:

        Hi Geoff,
        Didn’t hear as much about the Bloggers’ Bash this year and it passed me by. How was it? I wanted to let you know that I used that photo of Lady reading your book again today: https://beyondtheflow.wordpress.com/2018/05/21/a-quote-for-writers-struggling-to-finish-their-first-book/
        Best wishes,
        Ro

        Liked by 1 person

      • TanGental says:

        it was grand, thank you and we all had a splendid time… well I did and that’s what matters, eh?

        Liked by 1 person

      • Rowena says:

        I always feel quite envious of the Bloggers Bash. For some reason, I seemed destined to be quite solitary when I’m actually a very outgoing, people person. I had a wonderful trip to Sydney today aside from the usual doctor’s appointment, which gives me permission to escape. Went to the Art Gallery again and saw the finalists of the Archibald Portrait Prize and I photographed a good many of them, also zooming in to the faces. I have quite a collection of eyes. I’m not quite sure what to do with them yet, but I’m thinking of making a collage.
        I’ve been thinking about eye-contact a lot lately and the impact that omnipresent screens are having on human interaction. I actually think that adults could be just as affected as the kids and I’m thinking people are losing social skills. Or, maybe it’s just me. Obviously, I prefer the former.
        I have a question for you as a seasoned traveller. Did you find it disorrienting when you came to Australia with the sun being in the North and not in the South, as Geoff tells me is the case in the Northern Hemisphere. I was telling him how my friend and I automatically went the exact opposite direction when we were in Europe and while my sense of direction isn’t great, his explanation sounded plausible. Do you have anything that you could contribute to the discussion? Well, it hasn’t actually become much of a discussion, as I had nothing to say.
        As you can see, being stuck in peak hour traffic this morning presented some unexpected challenges.
        Best wishes,
        Ro

        Like

  5. noelleg44 says:

    A post-coital conundrum in alliterative bliss!

    Liked by 1 person

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