Read The Squashed Man Who Married a Dragon for Free Online

time’?
    Preparing to go out is another example of this, her in and out of the bath, trying on clothes, changing her mind, standing around in tiny underwear and high heels – whilst we make decisions, try this, try that but DON’T touch! Ah well, such is the life of a martyr.
    She could wear anything and look great, from a black bin sack at a fancy dress party to a dress she made herself out of dish cloths and to torture me most of all, when we left, late as usual, we set off in the car, she would put a foot up on the dashboard and then cream her legs. How the car stayed on the road is a miracle in itself.
    Which reminds me it is Saturday night – hooray!

SPARE OUR BLUSHES
    The thought of doing naughties – although the spice of marriage – is fraught with disappointments and despair. It’s like skipping through a minefield with a bit of plea-bargaining thrown in. How to arrive at a pre-planned ‘spontaneous moment of heaven’ – without careful reconnaissance work is impossible. Even a ‘certainty’ can become a ‘possible’ and an ‘almost’ can turn into ‘not a chance, NO!’ in a split second.
    Trying to tiptoe through the day, nose kept clean – until bedtime is almost an impossible task for me. I like to know ‘what’s what’ – not for me the timid hand sneaking off into the pitch black to find out what the state of play might be! Much better – go for it – with lights on, band playing on to glory mode.
    So I have done the dishes, hoovered the carpets, put out the rubbish and it’s still only eight thirty – time drags heavy for an eager lad! At the appointed hour – she deems to go upstairs, seconds later I race upstairs two at a time, zoom round the bathroom and triumphantly appear semi-naked, just a small strategically positioned towel and with a seductive waft of after-shave.
    Without lifting her eyes from her book she says ‘do you have to wear that?’ I drop the towel. ‘No, that after-shave – you know I don’t like it’, crushed I stumble to my side of the bed. ‘I won’t be a minute – just finish this chapter’ she says. Unrestrained passion and such eagerness are almost too much to bear.
    So deep into Tolstoy, for the third time, I nearly missed the entrance of my goddess. For a riveting eternity, breathing stopped…while a gorgeous bare leg, silently coiled round the door…in comes my girl… just wearing that smile! Someone is playing with my emotions.
    For a time it was trendy for London lovers to say ‘How was that for you darling?’ in a strangled sort of way, after 15 rounds of grunt and squeeze – this was something we ignored as contrived and false, not for us at all.
    Although for a very short while in our ultra polite period, we did try murmuring ‘Thank you darling’ – ‘No, no, thank you sweetie darling’ then we would give Greenshield stamps to each other.

WHAT ON EARTH
    Of course, I do the buying of goods where capital expenditure is involved, like building bits and the new bathroom suite. We discussed in a democratic way – white plastic/fibreglass bath, and ceramic w.c. and basin, etc. Off I went to Manchester, on my own, somewhere up Cheetham Hill, where the lowest cost/best buy bathroom suites were to be found.
    After spending quite some time, checking measurements, P traps, flow angles and other technicalities, a very helpful salesman showed me how to save even more money. Hundreds of pounds in fact, by looking at this week’s special ‘Special Offer’. The savings were phenomenal. True it wasn’t quite white in normal colour range of things, a small matter, when looked at from the savings point of view; but THIS was also the new in-shade!
    The reception I got when I arrived back with our new suite was less than I expected, and rather unfair after all my efforts. There is