Author's note: all usual disclaimers apply and this time I have to include Tess's version of a a randy Tommy and Barbara. This is written in response to her challenge regarding how a pair of handcuffs might innocently end up in Tommy's bathrobe. It is complete fluff and nonsense.

Sorry Tess but their conversation ran away with me...so over to you to finish the story!

Barbara snuggled into Tommy's shoulder and traced her fingers thoughtfully over his naked chest. "What?" he asked her recognising that she had something on her mind.

"I was just wondering about those handcuffs," she said shyly, "I would never have picked you as that type."

"That type?" he laughed, "I seem to remember it was you who cuffed me first."

Barbara stopped her hand. "I thought you must like it," she said uncertainly, "I want to make you happy Tommy."

"Oh Barbara," he sighed as he wrapped his arms around her reassuringly, "you do and it was fun but you have to believe that you are more than enough for me. We don't need er, props, and I've never used them before."

Barbara looked up at him trying to decide if it was true. "Then how does someone end up with handcuffs in their bathrobe which is hanging on their bedroom door?"

Tommy was not sure he would be believed. "Peter," he replied quietly.

Barbara recoiled. "It's Peter's bathrobe?"

"No, it's mine and he's never used it," he hurriedly assured her, "but I had them in there because of him."

"You handcuff your brother? No wonder he has issues!"

Tommy laughed. "No, it's a long story."

"We have time," she replied, her interest piqued and her fingers wandering seductively below the sheets.

Tommy kissed her passionately. Being with Barbara satisfied so many of his needs and desires. As he started to move his hand across her stomach she stopped him. "No bad boy, not until you tell me about the cuffs."

He groaned in defeat. "About two months ago Peter organised a charity event for Cornwall orphans. His friend Brit suggested it. she has a thing about protecting children. They met when he spent his time listening to dubious bands at heavy metal festivals."

"So you handcuffed Brit did you?" Barbara asked mischievously.

"No! She has a boyfriend. Some sort of long-haired drummer I think, although he might have been a bass player in a punk band. I can't remember but they seemed quite devoted to each other. I mean really devoted to each other. Like I am to you."

"Stop avoiding the question," she said as she poked him in the ribs to stop his roving hands.

"I'm not. Anyway they asked me to sponsor an event."

"Hmm, this is like pulling teeth! Who were you handcuffed to?"

"About half of Nanrunnel it seemed," he murmured as he tried to seduce her again.

"You're not sweet-talking and canoodling your way out of this Your Lordship. No tellee, no touchee!"

Tommy grunted. "They auctioned me off in thirty minute blocks," he grudgingly admitted, "the winners were handcuffed to me and I had to do what they said."

Barbara laughed uproariously, tears streaming down her face. "And you didn't invite me down for the weekend?"

"It was humiliating enough! You probably would have bought me for an hour and done some ghastly thing to me."

"I might have done something nice with you too! You'll never know."

Tommy nibbled playfully on her ear. "Oh I only wish! That wasn't allowed though, it had to be public and embarrassing."

"I can think of plenty of options," she said digging him in the ribs, "so what did they have you do?"

"Play the drums, sing an Oasis song, try to play the bagpipes, stuff like that." Tommy leant over and kissed her.

She pushed him away light-handedly that made it clear she wanted him to stay close. "I want a full list before you get any of that."

Resigned to his fate Tommy began to supply details. "Mrs Harris made me sing Don't Look Back in Anger; I didn't even know the words! Peter arranged for one of his friends to have me drum to My Generation. I'm a hopeless drummer by the way; Keith Moon would have spun in his grave. Then there was a very large woman from one of the estate farms who made me march around the square while she tickled me with a feather duster. That was actually a bit kinky in hindsight. Then Mr McDonald brought out his bagpipes and all the town dogs ran for their lives. See silly stuff."

Between fits of laughter Barbara asked, "all in your bathrobe I suppose?"

Tommy looked at Barbara's huge smile and realised she was the most beautiful woman in the world with her mussed up hair and big green eyes looking at him in amused adoration. "I love you Barbara," he said before he kissed her lovingly.

She let me kiss her. In fact she let him get a little amorous before she pushed him away. "Honestly, is this what your son will be like? Trying to distract me all the time. I want to hear the story Thomas!"

"Thomas? I am in trouble," he chuckled before he kissed her again. "and I'd much rather spend the time creating our son."

Barbara looked up horrified at her slip of the tongue and felt her face and neck flush. "You know what I meant. Start talking or I'm taking the cuffs to Peter and asking him."

Tommy traced kisses down her neck. "I like it when you blush," he whispered.

"Tell me!"

"I was handcuffed to a a Geezer," he replied in desperation.

"An old man? What's so bad about that?"

"No, a Geese dancer. They're sort of like Cornish Morris Dancers, you know with bells on their legs and handkerchiefs."

"And bathrobes?"

"No," he said sheepishly, "that came after."

Barbara looked at him impatiently. "Yes?"

"We were dancing this jig and it was getting faster. Give me a waltz any day. Anyway this big, hairy man with a long beard and fierce, little black eyes did not like me being handcuffed to his wife and when I tripped she fell against me. We were laughing and I put my arms around her. It was all very innocent I assure you. He didn't see it that way so he bought me for the next block of time. I thought they were going to force me to dance again but he wanted me to sit on the dunking stool over the harbour instead of the mermaid Peter had arranged."

"Mermaid? Even people in Cornwall know mermaids aren't real?" she asked suspiciously.

"Yes, it was another lady friend of Peter's in a very seductive body suit and tail."

"No digressions," she said as she began to tickle him.

"So I sat with my hands cuffed together on this little stool over the water. They use little bags of sand and it's actually quite hard to hit the bullseye at just the right spot to pull the lever and dunk anyone. The mermaid had been safe all day. Anyway this fellow must have been a retired baseball pitcher because he hit it four times in his thirty minutes. It was no fun. It was about fifteen feet into the water and with your hands bound together it was actually a little frightening," he admitted.

"Oh Tommy! how could Peter insist on you being cuffed?"

"He enjoyed it I think. At the end I was saturated and cold. Even Peter felt sorry for me and raced back here to fetch my robe. I slipped the cuffs into it once I was released and came back here for a warm shower. I must have left the cuffs in it when I hung it on the door. It's not funny Barbara. It was a very humiliating day. I only agreed because we were raising money for the orphan's home. I should just have made a donation but it's good for the community to feel involved."

Barbara was grinning broadly. "Admirable," she chuckled, "I think it should be an annual event."

"Good, I'll tell Peter that Lady Asherton has asked to be next year's mermaid will I?"

"Your mother won't...oh...no, you don't mean..."

Tommy nodded. "Yes, I do. So?"

...

Back to you Tess!