I do love Wednesdays!
28 August 2010
18:41
Petruchio and Kate are the invention of Will Shakespeare, and Sally Wainwright dragged them kicking and screaming into the twenty first century.
They do not belong to me.
I just help them further along.
Rufus Sewell and Shirley Henderson gave them Life.
My thanks to all four for the pleasure they continue to give me.
.
The song that accompanies this story is the 'Counting Song' that Piers teaches his sons.
Its real name is' Roll Me over in the Clover'.
The complete lyric, if it may be call that is at the end of the story.
I DO LOVE WEDNESDAYS!
.
Since we have been living at No.10, we have had to alter our routine. The boys and me mostly, but Kate too. We have breakfast together but the other meals are a movable feast, in more ways than one. Tuesdays are good: Tuesday afternoon is the audience with the Queen when Kate gives her weekly report; unchanging unless the Queen is away. Kate can get home early, unless there is a crisis at the House.
Wednesday is good too; Wednesday is Prime Minister's Questions day.
David Cameron had reorganised this to have it at 12noon, but Kate decided it would be better back at the original time of 3pm. This means that with a set timetable on Wed, she can work at No.10 in the morning, and have lunch with us before going to the House. It also means, she can deal with any matters at the House before and after P.M's Question Time, and be home for the boys' bed time.
Theoretically, but it mostly worked.
She had a Cabinet meeting downstairs this morning and came up at 12.30. Time for a leisurely lunch with us and a little time to relax together before she left for the House at two p.m.
"What did you do this morning?"
"We went to Mother and Toddler group, didn't we?"
Mother and Toddler group is held in a local church hall and is exactly what it is called. I am the only father. I rather enjoy being surrounded by lovely young Mums. They make such a fuss over their solitary male. Perhaps I will wear my miniskirt one day. It might be fun to see their reaction.
"What are you doing after lunch?" Kate asked.
"We might go to the park. Shall we, boys?"
" Ye-es" they chorused.
"You haven't forgotten it's Wednesday?" she said. "P.M's. Questions?"
Kate likes me to watch the televised broadcast.
I like to watch it too; I like to watch her in action. She is so smooth; she can field anything they throw at her. I love it when someone irritates her, just to see that volcano just simmering below the surface.
She had a quick shower and changed, then security buzzed through that her car had arrived. I was still sitting at the table with our sons.
"Come on my darlings; give Mummy a kiss "She crouched beside them to give them a hug and a kiss each. She stood." I look O.K?"
"Mmm" She was wearing what I called her working clothes, a black suit, white shirt, light stockings, black flatties and pearl earrings; her hair pulled back in its usual bun.
Her off duty things were sweater and jeans or trousers, never anything fancy but she does love her shoes which range from ridiculously high 5 inch heels to silly frivolous flats but they were never for the Commons.
She bent over me to kiss me.
"You won't forget?"
"Of course not."
As I kissed her, I slid my hand inside her jacket and fondled her breast. Her nipple hardened immediately.
"Piers! The babies! You shouldn't. Not in front of them!"she hissed.
I winked lasciviously at her.
"You know I will watch."
I would. It always gave me an enormous hard on; and she knew it.
She picked up her briefcase and her handbag and was going through the door. "Kate!"
She turned inquiringly. "What knickers are you wearing?"
She rolled her eyes in exasperation but her dimples were showing. That's another thing about Kate; she loves beautiful sexy undies. Not thongs, nothing as obvious; beautiful lacy filmy panties and bras. Subtle. Alluring. Enticing .
I waited.
" French knickers, shocking pink ones."
I leered at her.
"You dirty bugger!" I smiled naughtily. I loved it when she swore at me, it turned me on.
"Dirty buggah, dirty buggah." Rupert said; and Peter and Michael joined in.
"Really Kate, you will have to stop swearing in front of the babies. They pick up everything these days." I said sanctimoniously, smirking. She threw a box of tissues at me and pulled the door shut behind her.
We got back from the park just before three, the boys were almost asleep, so I didn't take them up to the nursery to put them down for their nap; I switched on the telly and we sat on the sofa, they curled around each other and me like little puppies. They slept, and I watched their mother doing what she does best ( Correction ; there is something she does better but that is for me to know and it is not for public consumption. )
Cabinet Question time was almost over and the half empty benches were filling fast.
The House of Commons at Prime Minister's Questions is a sight to behold; it was always full.
When Kate was leader of the Opposition, she had nipped and harried Gordon until he was frantic but now as P.M. she was a Master.
Everyone knew her temper too and there was always the chance she might lose it. No-one wanted to miss that; except if they were on the receiving end!
The television cameras focused on the Government front benches.
That unholy Triumvirate; Tim, Chancellor of the Exchequer, a baby faced unrelenting terrier: Sir John, Foreign Secretary, that smiling Machiavelli re-incarnate; and Kate, the Demon Queen. I've no political views and I don't know how the Opposition feels, but Christ! they would terrify me. I almost feel sorry for Ed as each week he gets up and Kate tears him to shreds.
.
The Speaker called upon the first Member for his question.
And Kate rose to the Despatch Box to answer him. She stood, her hand resting on it! Tiny, fragile, a pretty face, almost innocent until you saw the sharp wits in the depths of those great dark eyes.
God! She turned me on, but she has been doing that since the day I met her. I don't know if it is her body that I feel I could snap in two; or her face with her fuck-me mouth; her towering intelligence or...maybe it's her temper. Whichever it is, she been holding me for the last four years without any sign of it lessening and I don't want it to.
I put my feet up on the coffee table and allowed the throb in my groin to develop. I watched her and thought how I wanted to lift her up and sit her on the Despatch Box. I would kiss her slowly along her chin whispering her name between each kiss. Kate...Kate...Kate...Kate, till at last I reached her ear and I would whisper what I wanted. To kiss that tantalising mouth. To slide my hand up her thigh and inside her lovely pink (she did say pink?)knickers and slowly touch her up. I would wear my mini-skirt, fishnets and boots. She knew and I knew she knew that I always went commando under my mini. And I knew and she knew I knew that whatever she said, it turned her on.
I relaxed and fantasised about her; what I wanted to do to and with her, until the presenter said that Question time was over and they were leaving the Commons; and Peter began to stir.
Time to calm down now!
Time for the high spot of my day with the boys!
Our favourite Telly programmes: Pingu and Bob the Builder.
'Bob the builder, can he fix it?
Bob the builder, Yes he can!'
We sang along together.
Time for the boys' supper and then bath time.
"Come on, boys, let's get Mummy's shoes."
This is part of our routine. Each evening we get a pair of Kate's "Pretty" shoes and put them at the top of the stairs for her to change into as she comes home.
"Which ones tonight? I think, yes, the leopard ones with the pink bows on the heels."
They put them neatly together and we went into the bathroom. I ran the bath, a good squirt of 'Mr. Men ' bubble bath.
They could take off their shoes and socks but needed my help with the rest.
"Daddy Daddy! Sing the counting song ..."
"Mummy, Mummy" said Michael and there she was...
"I'll just change and I'll be there."
" Daddy! Sing the counting song "and we all sang together
" Oh! This is number one
And the fun has just begun.
Roll me over, lay me down and do it again
Roll me over in the clover
Roll me over lay me down and do it again.
Oh! This is number two
And my hand is on her shoe.
Roll me over, lay me down and do it again
I could her running along the landing.
"Oh this is number three
And my hand is on her knee. "
"Piers what are you teaching them? You can't teach them that!"
"I'm teaching them to count"
"No you are not! You are teaching them dirty songs.
"It's not dirty; it's just a bit ..."
"You know very well it's a mucky Rugby song...and you will not teach that to our children."
I shrugged with pseudo shock- widened eyes at her.
"We only count to five."
Then we both noticed there were three pairs of big green eyes watching us.
They didn't quite know what it was all about but they giggled.
"Now then, Mummy's here "she said and knelt down "We'll have some order." But her dimples were showing. I rolled my eyes at them and winked.
I sat on the bathroom stool and watched her: she was wearing a white jumper and jeans... and the leopard skin heels; her hair in a ponytail now. She leaned over the bath side playing with the boys. There was that throb in my crotch, back again.
I was whistling under my breath.
"Roll me over, lay me down..."
She gave me a sharp sideways look, so I shut up and looked at her arse and I struggled as I did every night to keep my hands off it.
Swings and roundabouts.
Some you win, some you lose.
I lost and with a sigh, I wrapped a towel around the first of our sons and lifted him out of the bath. I dried and pyjama'd him. He put his arms around my neck and gave me a big smacking kiss. He smelled warm and baby powdery. My heart jumped with a surge of love.
As I said, it's a matter of swings and roundabouts.
What you lose on the swings, you gain on the roundabouts.
Kate took them off to tuck them in and read their bedtime story, while I tidied up the bathroom. 'Can't you sleep, little bear?' was favourite of the moment.
.
"Piers, where are you?" she called softly.
"In the bedroom" I answered.
I was sitting on the edge of the bed; she came to me and rested her hands on my shoulders.
"Did you watch Question Time?"
Pursing my lips I nodded.
"Well?"
"What?"
"What did you think?"
Sliding my hands up her sweater, I undid her bra and cupped her breasts, then slipped down over her waist and unzipped her jeans and pushed them down. She stepped out of them. Yeah! Those lovely pink knickers and her suspender belt matched the pink bows on her four inch leopard skin heels exactly. "You were pretty good."
"What? which part?"
"All of it! You can tell!" I pulled her towards me. "I've got an erection like a bloody flagpole..."
"Bragging again"
"You know how you can prove it."
Her dimples were showing as she pushed me onto my back and unzipped my pants.
"Hmm, I've seen well" she sniffed.
"When?" I demanded."And whose?"
"Oh I will have to think about it, but in the mean time ..."
" When ? Whose ? You liar." I knew she had never had anybody else but me: but as she began to trail her fingers up my cock, I didn't care if she had inspected the personal equipment of the entire regiment of the SAS, as long as she didn't stop.
"Take your jumper off, Kate."
"You broken your arm or something?" she queried tartly.
"No, I just would rather watch you. " but I pulled it off her and slid the straps of her bra down her arms. I caught my breath, she always had that effect on me, and she was so beautiful.
"why have you got your sweatshirt on?"
"What chance have I had to take it off? My wife is such a demanding woman. I cook and clean and it's sex, sex all the time."
"Hah! Aren't you the lucky one?"
I made no attempt to help her as she pulled and struggled to get it off. I pulled the band out of her hair and ran my fingers through it
She knelt over me.
"Shall I Assist on you?" This is a private joke.
She liked to dominate me, I liked it too; she liked me to dominate her too, and yeah! I liked that too.
She liked it gentle and slow; and she liked it fast and wild!
Me? I liked each and every way, any way she wanted it. If she wanted it swinging from the chandelier, that was how I wanted it too. Only I wasn't going to tell her that.
"Later. I want to kiss you"
And kissing her I fell off that cliff that I had been falling off since that first night in that lift.
When I took my mouth from hers, she clung to me, her nipples rubbing against me, inviting. I ran my tongue over them, tasting her, running my tongue up along the line of her throat. My need was so urgent; I was trembling but wanted her to have her pleasure. My hands on her, in her. I heard her little moans that became deeper in her throat. I took deep shuddering breaths, holding back till we were both tumbling and arching, our bodies damp against each other. and she was saying "my love" over and over.
"Now? Now?"
"Yes, yes"
.
"Was it good? she asked softly.
"What do you think?"
We were still wrapped around each other; I lifted her hair and let it fall through my fingers then tucked that wayward strand behind her ear.
"Kate, Kate,
'I f I could write the beauty of your eyes,
And in fresh numbers number all your graces,
The age to come would say This poet lies'
Kate, my love, my dove, my sweet."
She kissed my chest and snuggled against me. I closed my eyes and started to drift.
"What would you think about another baby?"
My eyes shot open. Did she say what I thought she said?
My mouth was open too.
Not what I was expecting.
Well! I wasn't expecting anything but that would have been the last thing.
"Us?"
"Well! I didn't mean John and Dorothy."
"I don't know... I didn't know ...you feeling broody?"
She rubbed her nose against me.
"If it's... I mean... not three at a time."
"I can't guarantee that."
I absently kissed her hair; I was still gobsmacked.
I opened my mouth to say something and shut it again. I didn't know what I was going to say; I didn't know what I was thinking.
"What about your injection?"
"I can cancel the appointment."
"Umm. Well ...we would have to talk...um... about it."
"Well yes. You are the one who will have to look after it, and the boys."
I stroked her hair, tucking it back again.
I opened my mouth again, and shut it again.
And then, I surprised myself.
"A little girl might be nice."
"I can't guarantee that either."
I moved to hold her closer and she tightened her arms around me.
"But in principle ... you are not ...against it"
"In principle ...No, I am not against it"
She smiled into me.
"I love you Lord Charlbury."
"Yeah, me too."
She gave a little sigh. "What's for supper?
"Your favourite," I said," Smoked salmon and scrambled eggs on toast, then Eton Mess. "
"Mmmm" she murmured contentedly.
"I do love Wednesdays!"
Yeah! I think they're pretty good too!
'Roll Me Over in the Clover' is a song beloved of drunken Rugby players
These are the words.
.
Oh! This is number one
and the fun has just begun.
Chorus:
Roll me over, lay me down and do it again
Roll me over in the clover
Roll me over, lay me down and do it again
oh this is number two
and my hand is on her shoe.
Chorus:
Roll me over, in the clover etc
oh this is number three
and my hand is on her knee.
Chorus
oh this is number four
and we're rolling on the floor.
Chorus
oh this is number five
and my hand is on her thigh.
Chorus
oh this is number six
and she liked my bunks of tricks.
Chorus:
oh this is number seven
and she's feeling she's in heaven.
Chorus:
oh this is number eight
and she's really in a state.
Chorus
oh this is number nine
and I got out just in time.
Chorus:
oh this is number ten
and she stroked it like a pen.
Chorus:
oh this is number twenty
and she begs me give me plenty.
oh this is number thirty
and this is nice but dirty.
Pasted from .com/mp3/1970s/1971ca_stag_party_in_london_vol_2_(LP)/07_roll_me_over_in_the_