Brent lay on his back, sighing as he stared at the ceiling.
Oh my good grief, he thought. Watching all episodes of Doctor Who Season 6 back to back had been a bad idea for a Sunday evening.
He turned to see the flashing warning from the alarm clock. “Damn, now I have to rush…”
He leapt out of bed and turned the shower on to full flood. The water hit his body like a wave from a stormy sea.
Dressing quickly in a blue floral cotton shirt with the last two buttons undone, navy blue flannel trousers, blue socks, and dark brown shoes, he reached into the wardrobe one last time to grab his brown linen jacket. Dashing through the kitchen, he took what he could find to eat later and shoved it into his jacket pocket.
The buzzing of the garage door met him as he passed through the front doorway. And there she was — gleaming from the shadows. Red and inviting. Brent had spent over £2,000 on this little beauty, and riding her was always a pleasure. His pride and joy was a posture-sprung mountain bike, and he rode her hard.
He was in the lift when Gabriel tripped on the slightly raised lip of the floor and fell into him. Oh my God, she thought as she felt something hard pressing into her hip. It can’t be — not this time of the morning! Moving away embarrassed, she gushed out a “Sorry” to Brent, who was still smiling at her. He really fancied Gabby, as he called her, but she had never taken any interest in him.
“Oh, it’s fine,” he said, beaming.
She tried not to stare at the bulge, but her mind was conjuring up all kinds of things. She had to ask. “Ah, is that a Crunchy Granola Bar in your pocket?”
“Yes… yes it is,” Brent replied. “I never had time for breakfast this morning, so I was thinking of having it with my coffee.”
“Coffee?” she said. “Oh my poor boy, Earl Grey is what you need on a morning rush like that! I’m having one myself — would you like me to bring you one?”
“That would be lovely!” Brent said, taken by surprise by the kind offer from the gorgeous Gabby in her tight-fitting green dress.
Earlier that morning, Gabriel had stopped at one of the many new coffee bars on the High Street. She had to have it there and then — hot and dark. Her first Earl Grey of the day sent a quiver down her spine.
Leaving Brent in the lift, Gabriel raced into the canteen and switched on the silver kettle. “Damn,” she hissed as she noticed a wisp of steam. The water needed filling. Once it was full enough for two cups, she switched the kettle on again and rushed to her desk. Too excited to think straight, she pulled her drawers open, grabbed the ginger bars from the left one and a half-eaten Dime bar from the right, and walked back to the canteen. She finished the Dime bar in one go, moaning as the sweet caramel and chocolate coated her tongue.
Back in the kitchen, Gabriel placed a teabag in each cup and poured the hot water. She was about to tug on the strings when her mother’s voice warned her: Never rush it, dear! It’s better to wait five minutes to bring out the full flavour.
Five minutes passed. She threw the depleted teabags into the bin and carried the cups back. Brent watched Gabby’s well-rounded bottom push the glass doors open. One voice in his head slowed right down: Ohhhh yeeeaaaaah!
“Here you go — one Earl Grey.”
“Thank you, Gabby. This is so kind of you.” He tried (and failed) not to look at her breasts as she leaned over. “Wow! That looks great!”
“Yes it is good, isn’t it? You should quit that coffee lark and drink more Earl Grey.” She watched as he raised the cup to his lips.
“Hmm, lovely. Very tasty, Gabby.”
Not far away, Victoria couldn’t resist any longer. She had to feel his package, hoping for the rounded ridges of a Jammie Dodger. In disappointment she screamed at Phillip in the kitchen. “Bloody Bourbons! You know I hate Bourbons with that stupid white layer!”
“Sorry, darling!” Phil shouted back. “I can’t hear you — the kettle is boiling! Help yourself to a biscuit! I won’t be long.”
“You’re never LONG!” she shouted.
She had been looking forward to a mouthful of Jammie Dodger, where her tongue could explore the ring of its jammy centre.
“By the way,” Phil said as he walked into the room with a tray, “I forgot you prefer Jammie Dodgers, so I’ve put some around your saucer.”
“Oh lovely!” she cooed, hiding the fact she’d just verbally abused him, while thinking he had forgotten. “You’re so thoughtful. I love that about you, you always make sure I’m satisfied.”
“Of course, my dear. I’d feel awful if I let you down.”
She looked up at his handsome face. “Shall we forget the tea and just have sex instead?”
“Very well, darling, if that’s what you want?”
“Give over, don’t be ridiculous, you fool. I was joking. Give me my Earl Grey while it’s still full and rich.”
Phil sat beside her. “I think you’re right. It is better when it’s hot.” He wiped a crumb of Jammie biscuit from her cheek.
Vicky had taken it in almost whole, cheeks full like a squirrel, with pure ecstasy on her face.
This particular Saturday evening saw Victoria and Phillip doing a little late-night shopping. Vicky fancied something fruity and plucked two plums off the shelf.
“Oh, do be a dear and grab a banana for me, would you? I’ll have it for lunch on Monday,” Phillip shouted across from the cheese counter. He was sampling some goat’s cheese. “Hmm… Vicky, come try this Drunken Goat!”
He still chuckled at the Tetilla cheese, which translates as “Nipple.”
As Vicky joined him, he pointed to the Drunken Goat cheese resting between the Stinking Bishop and a large slice of Hooligan.
“Well, if you like, get 220 grams,” Vicky suggested as she tossed the banana into the basket.
Later, back home, Phil sat in the cream leather chair while Vicky sorted the shopping. She dropped a plum, and it rolled a wobbly path past her legs. She bent, half-turning to retrieve it, when she felt Phillip stood behind her.
“Oh really, Phillip! Those sorts of shenanigans are for Sunday night!” she said, turning to face him — only to realise she had backed onto the banana half-hanging from the bag on the table.
‘Oh well, that explains it,’ she thought to herself. ‘I thought that was unusually frisky.’
Brent rode up Mount Pleasant Street and saw Gabby sitting in the window of Costa. He entered and ordered an Earl Grey.
“May I join you?” he asked.
“Oh, Brent… yes, take a seat. Sorry, I was miles away.”
They chatted. Brent finally worked up the courage. “Gabby… are you seeing anyone at the moment?”
“Well, the doctor said if I keep taking the eye drops my sight would improve soon,” she chuckled.
Brent laughed. “What I mean is… I’d like to take you out. Maybe dinner?”
Gabriel sucked on her lemon slice. “I’m free Sunday… but on Monday you have to pay!” She chuckled again.
“Sunday it is then. Seven o’clock?”
She watched him mount his bike, his perfect buttocks meeting the saddle. Wow. Nice buns.
That Saturday evening, Victoria and Phillip were doing late-night shopping. Vicky plucked two plums off the shelf. Phillip called across from the cheese counter, “Oh, do be a dear and grab a banana for me. I’ll have it for lunch on Monday.” He was sampling Drunken Goat cheese and still chuckling at the Tetilla (Nipple) cheese.
Later at home, Vicky dropped a plum. As she bent to retrieve it, she backed onto the banana half-hanging from the shopping bag. “Oh really, Phillip! Those sorts of shenanigans are for Sunday night!” Then she realised what it actually was.
Vicky and Phillip spent that Sunday much like Brent and Gabby, though with significantly more biscuit-related foreplay. After a long, leisurely morning involving plenty of Earl Grey, Jammie Dodgers (the proper ones this time), and a banana that finally got used for its intended Sunday-night purpose, they lounged on the sofa, satisfied and smiling.
“You know,” Vicky said, licking a crumb from her finger, “I think we should do the shopping together more often.”
Phil grinned and pulled her closer. “As long as there are no Bourbons in the house, I’m happy.”
They clinked their teacups and settled in for a very relaxed afternoon. Victoria got her jammy centre explored exactly the way she liked it, and Phillip made sure she was thoroughly satisfied just as he always tried to do.
Brent gave up on press-ups and made Marmite on toast instead. He sat watching the news, thinking of Gabby’s fabulous curvy body, the steaming mug of Earl Grey resting on his crotch.
Gabriel woke in the night to thunder. She had been watching Rise of the Planet of the Apes and had even shouted “Don’t spank the monkey in the hallway!” in her sleep.
Susan eyed the giant Toblerone. “Not in one go. No!” she told Steven. She placed it among the oranges on the coffee table. Later she fed him a white-iced cherry-topped muffin and dropped a chocolate triangle down her cleavage. “That’s your piece.”
Sunday morning was brighter. Susan enjoyed a long hot shower with chocolate-scented gel, then relaxed with her Earl Grey and a book.
Brent, nervous but excited, picked up Gabby. She looked stunning in a sparkling green evening dress. They drove to the restaurant in her yellow Citroën C1.
They ordered buffalo steak with mozzarella on a sizzling stone, thick chips, vegetables, and a cheeky British Pinot Noir. The meal was divine. Conversation flowed. After dinner, outside her door, they shared a long, lingering kiss.
Gabriel unlocked the door, looked into his eyes, took his hand, and pulled him inside.
The night was everything they had both been craving. No more dancing around each other with teabags and biscuits — just heat, laughter, and finally satisfaction. Brent discovered that Gabby’s curves felt even better than they looked, and Gabby found out that Brent’s “Crunchy Granola Bar” was worth the wait.
The next morning they lay in bed, tangled in sheets and sunlight, sharing a single mug of Earl Grey.
“You know,” Brent said, kissing her shoulder, “I think I’m converted. Coffee is never touching these lips again.”
“Good boy,” Gabby purred, feeding him a piece of ginger crunch bar. “There’s a whole packet of Jammie Dodgers in the cupboard… and I’ve got plans for them later.”
They spent the rest of the morning laughing, kissing, and occasionally remembering to drink their tea before it went cold. Victoria and Phillip kept bickering happily over biscuits. Susan enjoyed another long shower. And somewhere in Lower Piddle, kettles whistled, muffins were eaten with vigour, and everyone got their happy and very satisfied ending.
Brent and Gabby? They were definitely going to need a lot more Earl Grey.
