Friday

‘Can I touch them ?’

‘No. Not yet.’

‘Look - it’s been four months now. When can I touch them ?’

‘Not yet. I’ve already told you, I’m not ready’.

Sunday

‘Please can I touch them ?’

‘No - not yet. Just a couple more days. But you can help me, if you like.’

‘Oh what is it now ? The footy’s on in a minute.’

‘Listen. Forget about the god-damned football for just one minute. Put your pole in here now because I want to drape them all around your pole.’

Crikey - this was like birthday, significant anniversary, Christmas and the last 5 minutes of the 1999 European Cup Final rolled into one. What a superb, generous, unsolicited and unexpected offer !

‘Norma-Jeane, Norma-Jeane - set the V+ to record the footy - channel 511, will you ?’

I rammed my pole home hard and wiggled it about a little to ensure is was erect and vertical.

‘Is that it ? Now what ?

‘I am going to tie three knots at the base, in the middle and on the top of your pole. Pass me that green twine.’

Now I’m open minded and all for experimentation. Just as long as it doesn’t end in autoerotic asphyxiation. Especially with my asthma.

‘OK - that’s not too bad. Now what ?’

‘We wait for a couple of days.’

Wednesday

‘Maybe I could just hold one - just for a second ?’

‘No. Just a couple more days. It’ll be worth the wait, I promise.’

Saturday

‘OK - I’m ready. Shall we take one each ?’

Finally, the moment has arrived and the waiting is over. I breathed deeply, leant forward and took the forbidden fruit (the left one) in my hand.

‘What do you think ?’

‘It is just beautiful; firm, pert, round, perfect shape and just the right size.’

‘Do you want to bite it - but just gently ?’

I certainly didn’t need a second invitation and slowly brought it up to my mouth. I paused to savour the smell and marvelled as I stroked the smooth skin, devoid of any blemishes.

I bit - a little too hard. I heard a gasp and a soft moan.

I felt an explosion of liquid in my mouth. I was taken to another place. I closed my eyes. I was in heaven.

Then, I suddenly realised I had seed dripping down my chin.

‘What are you pulling that stupid face for ? Go and pick six more ripe ones for tea. Oh - and you’ve got tomato juice all down your work shirt.’

So, if you want to save money in these tense, difficult economic times and rejuvenate your sex life, grow your own tomatoes.