Concerning the Brussels sprouts of our fevered erotic imaginings and longings, it is not hard – although it soon will be – to see why such sexually provocative brassicas have such a firm grip on our erotic desires and urgings. The sprout – far from just the hideous vegetable of childhood mealtimes – does – when the troublesome years of adolescence are passed – often come to occupy a central role in the erotic imagination of the more inventive adult.
Those of us (both) gathered here today are, of course, all of open mind, mature of thought and loose of under-garmenting when it comes to giggling childishly about the erotic doings of other people. But even we have – in the deep watches of the night – often felt a stirring deep in the loins whenever the mind wonders on the erotic possibilities contained within the humble domestic vegetable rack.
Carrots, parsnips, leeks and even corncobs will – of course – be familiar and obvious for their inherent erotic possibilities. However, those of us gathered here today are well advanced past such minor perversions and deviations. No doubt, any of us have already sampled the erotic capabilities of the pickled beetroot or the perverse delights of erotically placing broccoli upon a tethered and suitably moistened chiropodist. As for spring cabbage and a tightly-restrained bank manager, I’m sure I do not need to go into any greater detail there.
So, onto Brussels sprouts….
Or, rather the Brussels Sprout in erotic proximity to a lightly-oiled traffic warden wielding sex spatulas in a provocative manner is enough to….
Er… if you could all excuse me for a minute or two… there is something I need to go and adjust….
A tale from the From the LFITW archive
More from Little Frigging in the Wold here