TOTALLY FACTUAL EXTRACTS FROM THE ELLPUS HOLIDAY DIARY.

post a link here so I can get to them

kk, I going to set it up now. Give me a little time.

Here it is, have fun, and I hope it helps.

http://www.able2know.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=58374&postdays=0&postorder=asc&start=100

*giggles*

ellpus in Court? oh boy, what's this world coming to...

Indeed..........my honourable discharge is legendary.

Deserting the British Expeditionary Force during the Boxer Rebellion, Viscount Ellpus disguised himself as an itinerant Chinese cabbage merchant....



..and spent the remainder of the conflict in Madame Chui's Brothelarium and Chicken Take-Out in what is now modern Hong Kong.

I'm quite sure I speak for everyone here when I say we do not want to hear any stories about your discharge.

It put me off my sugar-glazed donut.

Does anyone else detect the faint smell of foot powder? Rather liquid foot powder???

Could we have a smear of that?

Gets out microscope..

DAY SEVEN (fireworks at last).................


In an attempt to display my manly virility, I decided to give Lady E a "firemans lift" up the four flights of stairs to our room, and so I threw her over my shoulder. Unfortunately, due to the aforementioned Rugger injury to the scrotal sac, I experienced a sharp stabbing pain to the groin when I tried to lift her off the ground. In the end, I led her up the stairs in a masterful way, supporting her left elbow.

Alas, when we arrived at our corridor, she realised what I was up to. She turned to me and told me that naughties were out of the question, as we had a busy day lined up for tomorrow and she had a tension headache coming on.

Despite my protests, Lady E was adamant, so when we entered our suite of rooms, I went straight to the bathroom to administer copious amounts of cold water to the affected area.

After five minutes of severe splashing, my todger still looked like something one could hang a towel on, and frustration was rising within me. How can a man be supposed to put up with this depravation? I had rights, and I was determined to exercise them.

I looked down at the fully ridgid todger, which looked back up at me, in a forlorn sort of way.
How long COULD one last without rumpy? I made up my mind to have my way, and strode with purpose to our bedroom, and flung open the door.

She wasnt there! ........refusing to be thwarted, I strode back through the living area, opened the door to the second bedroom and saw her in the dark, pretending to be asleep. She knew I was upset and was avoiding me.....well it wont work this time old girl, I thought. I knew that the old Ellpus magic would bring her round, so I decided to do something to her that I havent done since St George's day 1959.

Now, in order to give you some background regarding the forthcoming event, I will now take you back to another teenage experience of mine.
Ms Mortimer was our family librarian when I was sixteen or so, and one day she caught me devouring an ice cream cone in the family archive room, which was totally forbidden.
Instead of reporting me to Papa, she looked at me in a funny way and said that I had "potential".
In exchange for keeping quiet about my transgression, she made me report for some very unusual training sessions every day during the summer holidays. This training took the form of facial exercises, eating a whole pot of yoghurt using only my tongue, and using aforementioned tongue to lift a series of brass bell shaped weights with little handles on the top.
On alternate days, she would make me dip my head into a bowl of water, and make me hold my breath for as long as possible.

When, after four weeks of hard slog, I managed to lift a ten pound weight, she declared that my tongue was now as strong as that belonging to Miss Manley the housekeeper, who wore a tweed suit even in summer, and smoked a pipe on her day off. I had also managed to hold my breath for five minutes, which seemed to be satisfactory to her.

Ms Mortimer then said that I was "ready" and took me back to her room.................

Now, at that time of my life, I honestly thought that oral sex was when one sat down with a group of chums and told naughty stories. How wrong could I be....and for any males out there who are under the same impression, I shall now let you in on the "big secret" that was divulged to me during that fateful summer.

After several personal training sessions with Ms Mortimer, I discovered that every woman has a wierd little thing that, although appearing to be insignificant, is actually a secret "switch" which, when flicked on and off repeatedly, makes them quite noisy in the bedroom department.

Now.....I never have been very good at remembering technical data, and this was a very long time ago, so you will have to bear with me while I attempt to recall the specifics.


Right ho....the technical part.............

The secret female part is called the Clematis, and although it is usually small in size, it apparently contains more nerves than an entire Englishman watching a particularly exciting game of cricket.

However, some Clemati (plural) are slightly larger, but are just as sensitive. The largest one I ever encountered, belonged to a delightful young lady that I met in a particularly gaudy bar in Thailand.
Later, when I had managed to expose her Clematis in my hotel room, it was so big that, had she not been wearing an alluring mini skirt with fishnets, one would have sworn that she was a boy.

The Clematis can be located either in daylight, or in the dark (with or without torch) by various methods, the easiest being the one where one asks one's partner where she happens to be hiding it, and the hardest method being the one where, using the index finger, one prods every inch of her lower half, until she says "OOOOH!".

Now....Ms Mortimer was good enough to show me where most Clemati are located, and with the help of an ancient Chinese manual, taught me the numerous ways of applying stimuli to said area, in order to bring forth an organism, which I suppose is similar to an amoeba, but a lot noisier.

As a rough guide, most Clemati are located between the lobelia (two), and the little bugger is normally well hidden, so a bit of delving may be in order. One must persevere though, as the results are normally quite remarkable, even in the English upper classes.

There were three particularly effective styles of stimuli contained in the manual, all invoving the tongue, namely 1. "The hissing Viper".....2. "The indecisive ferret".....and, best of all... 3. "The Limpet".
Safety Note......The Limpet should never be applied when one's female partner has particularly strong thigh muscles, as there is a danger that temporary deafness can occur to the provider.

After forty or so sessions with Ms Mortimer, I was awarded the coveted black headband, and put my muscular facial appendages to good use on countless occasions over the next few years, mainly with the sixth form at St Benedict Catholic School for girls, which was located not half a mile from the Droitwich estate. In the end, the queue of girls was stopping the traffic, coupled with the fact that I was sent off to RAF training, so I ceased providing the service.
When I returned to Droitwich, I discovered that the school had been turned into a Convent, so the demand for the service had disappeared, apart from the odd one or two here and there, who had skipped off from vespas.

Anyway......I would now call on these special skills to bring Lady E round to accepting my advances, and crept into the room, clicking the door closed behind me. I silently removed my clothing which, as this was going to be a special occasion, included my socks and vest.
I felt my way through the darkness, until I located the end of the bed. Gently lifting the sheets, I bent down and slid upwards under the covers until I located her legs. I was determined that this was going to be a bit of sneaky snorkelling that she wouldnt forget in a hurry.

I nuzzled my way up her legs until I located the Clematis with expert precision.....and started things off with a bit of the old hissing viper.......after a minute or two, I quickly changed to the indecisive ferret, and upped the tempo. It was obviously working, as I was getting a good response, judging by the heavy breathing. "NOW" I thought, and went straight for the kill with the Limpet. Her whole body shook, as an organism arrived....then another....the whole bed shaking like buggery.

When it had all subsided, I decided that it was now my turn. I must admit that it was all a bit frantic, as we both raced for the finishing line.....me winning after I put on a short spurt in the final furlong. I turned over on to my back....fully sated, and happy that I had managed to impress her highness with my expertise.

Now, about this time, I always crave either a bowl of cornflakes, or a cigar. As there were no cornflakes to be had, I quietly slipped out of the bed so as not to disturb the now gently cooing Lady E, and fumbled in the dark for my clothes. I dressed in the dark, and silently opened the door and snuck out into the living area, in search of my box of havanas. I found a particularly plump specimen, clipped the end off and lit up, taking a long draw as I walked out onto the veranda, in order to admire the lights of the fishing vessels in the pitch black night. I closed the sliding door behind me with rather a noisy bang.

"SSSHHHH!" came a noise from the dark, almost causing me to drop my cigar.

"Who's there" I enquired.

"Dont make so much noise, Ellpus....you'll wake my mother" replied Lady E.

"Wha..?"

"You'll wake Mummy...and close your mouth...you look like a catfish"

"Your Mother is here?"

"Dont tell me you've forgotten, Ellpus.....she is spending the weekend with us in Cornwall"

"Wha..? Where ...?"

"She is asleep in the second bedroom....the manager let her in while we were in town"

"You mean to tell me that the Crone is here?"

"Yes....and dont call her that, you know it annoys me. Now, I'm off to bed...and dont try any funny stuff when you come in, as I am not in the mood"

"No, dear......goodnight"


I sat down in the dark with my head in my now trembling hands.... the havana had suddenly lost its appeal..........

Hahahahahaha, excellent!

The Ellpus Holiday Diary
Lord E:
Enjoyed your latest diary entry !!! It's a mercy that wasn't
your father-in-law you encountered !!! Poor baby. Put a cold
cloth on your forehead,and try not to have too many nightmares !

lindatw

- weird, not wierd
- Clematis, I nearly died laughing. I suppose you pronounce it correctly...
- this has been quite a rollick, that is, frolic.
- praise the LordE!





Frolic, not frollic. That's a kind of italian pastry dough...

Re: The Ellpus Holiday Diary


Unfortunately, Fieldmarshal Butt-Groping (father in law) passed away after eventually exploding at the age of ninety two.
For the last five years of his life, he was diagnosed as suffering from amnesic bulemia, which meant that he would consume vast quantities of food, but forget to throw up.

Oh my
Well, look at it from the bright side Spanky, at least
you'll have the crone in your corner from now on.

Wierd is spelt weird? ......How pekuliar!

I can tell you that since I spelled it wierd for thirty years myself...

I before E except after C ?




I shall now run off to the east wing and dust off the Oxford Dictionary.