Sometimes Steve reads aloud to me as I cook dinner and the baby kicks her feet in her bouncy chair. Usually it's something by Angela Thirkell. Soothing, lightly comic, undemanding, not too too horribly sentimental. And just this once, pornographic:
"The boats and other conveyances were just slowing down and several people were getting off."
"Saucy!" You see, here I am being "witty" by interpreting this innocuous sentence as a double entendre. Adding a little life to the proceedings, what?
Little do I realize what delights are waiting just around the corner. Steve continues:
"Calling to Mr Grant to follow her, Delia climbed onto the still-moving platform and seized the ostrich, onto which she leapt and sat sidesaddle, with an expression of pride and contentment. Under her direction, Mr Grant took possession of the cock, whose orbit was within that of the ostrich, and mounted it astride."
"Oh yes. 'One of the oily men came round.'"
"Mr Grant, who did not understand his cousin's peculiar devotion to this form of mental stimulus, was ready enough to ride on a cock two or three times, but felt a distinct uneasiness at the thought of half a crown's worth of this exercise. However Delia looked so happy and so pretty, with the flush of excitement on her face, that he determined to endure as long as possible."
As one would.
At this point we have to call a recess for the purpose of lying on the floor and howling.
After we have recovered sufficiently to carry on, there is a lull in the text of nearly two full pages in which nothing salacious occurs. Then Lydia Keith arrives and casually remarks, "I say, someone's on my cock."
"Mr Grant, really quite glad of an excuse to dismount, offered his cock to Lydia, who immediately flung a leg over it, explaining that she had put on a frock with pleats on purpose, as she always felt sick if she rode sideways."
Gooood night, everybody!