The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1115 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“What happened to the pre-op girl you nearly employed?” I asked Simon, who was in danger of drifting off to sleep.”

“Mmm–what?”

“The pre-op transsexual, what happened to her?”

“I have no idea–I wasn’t involved, didn’t find out about it till fairly recently, since then I’ve been building a case against him.”

“Do you mind if I get involved?”

“You can’t–you’re an advisor, you don’t actually work at the bank, do you?”

“No, I suppose not. Oh well, that’s the end of that then.”

“End of what?”

“I just thought it might be interesting to see what happened if you employed her.”

“She’s probably got a job by now, she seemed to be something of high flier potential.”

“All the more reason to nab her then.”

“It’s probably too late.”

“You can try, Simon, for me–“ I opened my bra again.”

“You are such a temptress at times, totally wicked.” He kissed me lightly on my damp nipple. “However, seeing as if I’d have lost the bet, these mommas would have been off limits, maybe you don’t like me sucking on them.”

“I have to be in the mood–which I am, just don’t suck too hard and remember, tiny wee needs this–but it’s a luxury item for you.”

“Yeah, but we all need a bit of luxury, now and again.” He clamped his lips gently over my left breast and ticked the nipple with his tongue–as he kept up this torment, I felt a rippling effect arise in my groin and slowly burn its way up to my breasts–it was so delicious I nearly floated out of my body, and I could feel milk oozing out of my right breast and dribbling down my ribs onto the bed–but I was paralysed with pleasure.

He pulled off my left breast and noticing the milk began lapping at my right. “I think you enjoyed that, didn’t you?”

“Hmmm,” was all I could say, before I drifted off into a post orgasmic stupor and fell asleep.

I awoke a little later with a towel over me and whimperings emanating from the cot. I slipped out of bed and picked up the baby, who smelt as if she needed changing, then stole downstairs to sort her out.

I cleaned her up and fed her–sadly, but perhaps fortuitously, she didn’t have quite the same technique as Simon–because I could have dropped her.

I got back to bed three quarters of an hour later and slept in. Jenny apparently collected the baby and fed her–Simon had given instructions for her to do it and not to disturb me. Some days I really do understand why I married him.

The kids were actually tidying up when I got downstairs, the younger ones in the house, Julie and Danny helping Tom pick the last of the tomatoes. He asked me if I could make chutney. I agreed to try, I mean if I get into a pickle over it...

I sniggered at my own joke and caught Jenny watching me. I’m sure she thinks I’m as crazy as the rest of the inmates of this house. “Enjoy your snooze?” she asked.

“I did, I’m going to have a cuppa and a piece of toast and get stuck in.”

“I think our task force has done most of it Lady Catherine, but that’s for you to decide.”

“Jenny, I’m not into titles, everyone else calls me Cathy, so maybe you should as well, unless we’re in something formal.”

“Thank you, Cathy, I shall. I was going to take the baby out in the pram if that’s okay?”

“Fine with me, if you harness up the other six, they could pull it for you.”

She laughed at my joke, “I’ll take the four younger girls with me, I thought we could walk to the park and back. I’ll take an apple for them and a small drink.”

“Fine, sounds like a good idea and the sun is shining.” I smiled at her and she rounded up the netball team to go out with her.

I was just finishing my toast when the phone rang. “Hello?”

“Hi, Babes, you woke up then?”

“Oh goodness yes, I’ve been busy since just after you left,” I lied.

“’Course you have, so Jenny must have been lying when I asked her to go and sort out the baby for you, and she said you were still zonked.”

“Um–” I felt myself blushing–the pig.

“I won’t keep you, I’m sure you have some shopping to do or other means of spending my money. I’ve had Bev track down our missing high flier and called her. She’s coming in for an interview tomorrow–you’re on the panel, so am I, so is Howard.”

“Who’s Howard?”

“The guy I’m going to sack.”

“Oh? Is that wise?”

“Look I’m rich and powerful, do I have to be wise as well?”

“How would I know, I only know about dormice.”

“Could be useful if ever we start taking acorns as investments.”

“At branches everywhere,” I squeaked already laughing at my own joke.

“Oh, yeah, you’re on the panel as Cathy Watts, I don’t want Howard to realise we’re doing a pincer movement on him. Oh she’s interviewing for your liaison officer and PA, so I want a job description and so on from you.”

“Eh? What do I need an assistant for?”

“Never mind that, I’m sure you’ll think of something–email it to Bev before four, oh and remember, it’s important that you make it sound urgent, because we’ve pulled all this together so quickly. So think of something for that, too. Oh she’s got degree in biology, hence the environmental bit.”

“I thought, I was down as your wife on the list of advisors?”

“No, Dad appointed you before we got married, and we tend to leave things alone unless individuals ask us to change them.”

“Fine with me. Let’s hope Howard doesn’t remember me from the dormouse film.”

“I don’t think he saw it–he’s more your beer and football type.”

“Lovely,” I sighed back, “Is she the only candidate?.”

“In reality, yeah, I’ve asked a couple of others to come and pretend they’re trying for it, just to make up the numbers. What’s for dinner?”

“I see, the way to a man’s heart is it?”

“Natch.”

“I think I’ll do some baked Dover sole.”

“I’ll be there–keep me some.”

I put the phone down and phoned Morrisons–reserving enough to feed the brood, although the kids would just as happily eat fish fingers–very few social graces amongst the lot of them–I suppose that’s my job.

I dashed out to the supermarket after lunch and collected my fish. I also bought some salad stuff and new potatoes, which were the other components of the meal. Danny grumbled, especially when I laid fish knives and forks.

“What are these for?”

“It’s cutlery, what’s it look like,” Simon responded.

“Where’s the normal knives and forks?”

“Those are specially designed for eating fish.”

“An’ chips?”

“No, not chips,” I started putting down the bowls of salad and then the hot buttered new potatoes.

“Oh rabbit food–great, I’m not a stupid rodent.”

“Neither are rabbits.”

“What are they then?”

“They’re lagomorphs of the family, Leporidae, like hares.” I hate to waste an opportunity to show my education.

“They’re leopards, stoopid–“ called Billie and all the girls laughed.

“No they’re not, you’re stooopid.”

“Children, please,” Simon asserted himself but the name calling continued.

Jenny walked in, “QUIET,” she shouted and the kids stopped instantly. “Thank you.”

Simon sat there with his mouth open.