Coffee and the Pocket Venus

There are only two things that the Coffee Bitch does not want to hear from a woman

1) “Of course I am sure it’s yours” , and
2) “Hello, Health Inspector”

Well finally and petrifyingly today we heard the second. This was followed by the snap, snap, snap of the rats throwing themselves onto the traps and a creeeeaaaakk which was later identified to be the boss’s arse cheeks clenching. “Stall her” the boss hissed “You know what I will do to you if we fail this inspection”. Yes boss, but you’ll have to sew them back on first”.

Now let me interrupt this tale of squalor, misery and degradation by mentioning that this girly was hot hot hot. She was just about 5 foot tall and perfectly proportioned. She must have spent all her young life in a gym because her six pack rippled under her shirt and they were topped off by a glorious set of firm and pert little funbags. Now the boss has on more than one occasion mentioned that I am such a wreck, my definition of hot is a pulse and four limbs. She is of course right but these days I am even prepared to be flexible on the limbs. In case you are wondering about my prowess the boss says that I am an awful lover but I don’t think you can judge these things after 10 seconds can you? Talking of love, as we were, my old friend granny turned up. (If you are reading this blog from top to bottom you should stop now, read Coffee and Old People and come back otherwise the next few lines won’t make much sense. I will wait for you).





OK welcome back and to those of you who are reading the correct order, sorry for the delay. It transpires that all of that pectoral flexing did its trick and granny was back to offer me lessons in love. I promise that you have never lived until you have heard an 80 year old say in a Deep South accent “I love you long time Coffee Bitch, me so horny”. Well what with the boss’s constructive critique of my technique (Of course size isn’t important, why do you ask stumpy?) I decided to accept her offer. Within 5 seconds she had got me into a 69 and she was away like a rat up a drainpipe. Of course as you have probably guessed, she got relaxed and the old problem came back. I lay there in a haze of confusion and methane and thought “Holy Mother of God I can’t stand another 68 of those”. Goodbye erection, see you in 10 years.

Back to the pocket Venus. She is on a mission so how can I stall her? Then I spot my in. Thank you God, thank you, she is carrying a Louis Vuitton bag. Now if there is one thing the Coffee Bitch does know (apart from coffee) is his handbags. Personally I am a Kate Spade man myself but I will be the first to admit that a fit woman accompanied by Louis can always turn my cynical eye. So dropping my face into seduce mode (the boss calls this smarmy mode) I knowingly smile and say “Is that a Louis Vuitton hobo?”. The reaction was all I could hope for and she screeched to a halt and did an about turn. Now with her back to the kitchen the boss was able to peep around the corner and with her come upstairs face on, give me a big thumbs up. I suppose the pocket Venus must have been in shock after all here in Smalltown most women’s bags say Walmart not VL, but we got on just fine. I explained the nuances of Louis and how to spot a fake. We looked at the piping, the lining, the date stamp and all the other stuff that the Chinky knock offs don’t get quite right. After some 20 minutes of this gay banter the boss stuck her hand around the corner and made a scurrying motion with her fingers. This I took to mean that the last roach had just been evicted and the coast was clear. Sadly it looked like Venus was not going to accept my offer to inspect the old Spam dagger so losing interest I wandered off while she did her thing in the kitchen.

Unbelievably we passed with flying colors and the boss actually came through on her promise. That night in Smalltown the only thing more fake than the boss’s orgasm was the Venus’ Louis Vuitton.

By the way one thing that came out of this was that we discovered that here in Kissbotty County (and I am sure it is the same where you live) you can go on line and see the health records of every food establishment. Oh what fun. I am going to do this forever or until Granny’s medication kicks in.


Toodle Pip.