OMG! What a hoot! Moll Flanders meets Richardson's Pamela!
Pity that you're on the wrong team, so I can't tell you how much I enjoyed these lines.
I could easily write a manual on the finer points of prostate manipulation!) [Which I am willing to do, Rita, if you believe that you could market it. —Laide]
I, for won, want laide to write that manual. I, too, am certain it could become a reference text on any slash writer's shelf.
Having no thought as to where he might go, he did not seem eager to quit my establishment (so few of us plan for the future, even now, and a sad thing this is, too)
Sigh. So true. We're so certain that we'll win the lottery, eh?
[Rita, as you well know, "shake the drapery" is one of our little euphemisms at Feathers; ought I to discuss that here, or should I include its description as part of Chapters Eighteen to Twenty-Two, in which I detail our other specialties? —Laide]
Sniff. Why do I fear we shall never get a chance to read those chapters?
his excellent buttocks clenching and unclenching with every thrust (and may I say, that man also has thighs like the veriest tree trunks; you would not think it to look at him, but, as I have always known, he has meat on him where it counts, and I count everything)
OMG! You know, she's right. Tree trunks, eh? Who woudda thought it?!
"What did you do to me?" shouted Mr Inspiration, who sported the red, itchy looking patches of flesh that indicated he had known the love bites of my pets.
Love bites of her pets. Hmmmm. Flea bites????
I'm afraid that your memoirs no longer meet our needs and won't be published at this time
NO! NO! Ah, come on! It's Rita's duty to publish that book. For the betterment of society. It is a sacred trust.
Phoenix Publishing
Had to fit that in, eh? Well done.
Love the format, the premise and the way you got them together. Wish I could vote for this one.