Fifty "Sheds" Of Grey

Fifty "Sheds" Of Grey

We tried various positions – round the back, on the side, up against a wall.

But in the end we came to the conclusion the bottom of the garden was the only place for a good shed.

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She stood before me, trembling in my shed.

“I’m yours for the night,” she gasped, “You can do whatever you want with me.”

So I took her to Bunning’s.

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She knelt before me on the shed floor and tugged gently at first, then harder

until finally it came. I moaned with pleasure. Now for the other boot.

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Ever since she read THAT book, I’ve had to buy all kinds of ropes, chains

and shackles. She still manages to get into the shed, though.

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“Put on this rubber suit and mask,” I instructed, calmly.

“Mmmm, kinky!” she purred.

“Yes,” I said, “You can’t be too careful with all that asbestos in the shed roof.”

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“I’m a very naughty girl,” she said, biting her lip. “I need to be punished.”

So I invited my mum to stay for the weekend.

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“Harder!” she cried, gripping the workbench tightly. “Harder!”

“Okay,” I said. “What’s the gross national product of Nicaragua?”

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I lay back exhausted, gazing happily out of the shed window. Despite my

concerns about my inexperience, my rhubarb had come up a treat.

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“Are you sure you can take the pain?” she demanded, brandishing stilettos.

“I think so,” I gulped.

“Here we go, then,” she said, and showed me the receipt.

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“Hurt me!” she begged, raising her skirt as she bent over my workbench.

“Very well,” I replied. “You’ve got fat ankles and no dress sense.”

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“Are you sure you want this?” I asked. “When I’m done, you won’t be able

to sit down for weeks.” She nodded.

“Okay,” I said, putting the three-piece lounge suite on eBay.

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“Punish me!” she cried. “Make me suffer like only a real man can!”

“Very well,” I replied, leaving the toilet seat up.

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