I work Naked at Home

I was writing my tale when the door phone rang. I stood up to answer it but the darned leggings got trapped into the wood cracks on the seat. So I reckon if I just pulled it hard, it would come loose but them fabric tore like wimpsy toilet rolls. Oh, shucks was my exact mutterings. I walked to the security cam and guess who decided to turned up at this hour on a rainy day. I be darned that's my mother in law downstairs and she is coming up to my place now.

"I am coming up now. Be decent, boy and girls." She always said it would be courteous to call before coming in. She did buy us the baby cradle to be placed in the spare room. She also cornered me once to explain to me on the impromtu moments of love can be quite a distinct flavor to our marriage life. Pardon me, as I am as dense as the mule down the road so I had to asked her to elaborate.

"Jim, I am not your Sex Ed or the Porn Director of that stash hidden in your drawer, but there is more to just the bed and drawn curtains at night. Its called a quickie and it can be anywhere. Just make sure I am not around. Or your father in law. He thinks he can still do the home run on four corner bases, but I told him if he can still swing the club, I would consider to throw the cues to him."

That was my first lesson in 101 Sex Ed by your Mum, except she is not mine by birth. Back to my predicament then.

I was not so exasperated by the concept of quickie but I do need one pair of britches now as this one is more like a snap-on from the Strip Dancers. I rushed over to my closet and guess what; all my britches are in the wash. Courtesy of building up the load to justify the coins in the washer. I knew that would get me in some trouble one day.

I could had worn my Scotish kilt but I doubt I would be sitting down with my legs apart. More to my predicament, I have someone in bed and she ain't related to the lady coming up as Bridgite is a old friend. More of a burnt off candle wick of yesteryears, or was it weeks. Incidentally Bridgite is sleeping in the bed in my bedroom which I incidentally shared with the woman whose mother in on the way up.

You are darned right; she ain't ma wife; more like a ex-lover who came over for a nap as she was caught in the rain and my place happened to be nearest stopover point. Her clothes are drying in the dryer and she is flipping nude under the cover.

I was pulling on my kilt when I heard the door bell rang. She is finally here and I just need to close this bedroom door and walked over to the apartment door.

"Hello, Mother. Gertrude is at the shops and I am alone." I did admit I barricaded the doorway with my scottish kilt and shirt that says I love my wife.

"Nice shirt and ....kilt. You preparing for something on her return, I presume." She was giving me the approval looks.

"Oh no, Mum. I am just writing a tale on the Highlands and I thought I get into the character by dressing into it. By the way, did I not say Gertrude is out and I am kind of busy....you know deep into the glens and creeks. So perhaps we can come over and see you for dinner some other day?"  I know I looked stupid holding onto the doorway dressed like Braven, except I have a weaker heart.

"Oh, okay, I know when I am not needed. Tell Gertrude to call me when she is back. As for you, I can assure you that the dressing is quite nice. It reminded me of the fliptop cash drawer at the supermarket. You know it flips up and you can reach in for the cash. " She turned around laughing to go down again.

Oh my God, this woman is a winded up sex toy. Thank God I married the younger version. I closed the door and I bumped into Bridgete wrapped toga style in my blanket.

"Hey, I remember that kilt. You must had put it on for me." I smiled at her as she was there in the dressing booth when I tried it on that day.

The doorbell rang again.

"I be darned." I opened it and its my wife, Gertrude. Her mother is standing behind with the shopping bags.

"I forgot the keys."

I knew I should not had slammed the door. It slammed back at me and I am sitting all alone now in the bar looking for someone without a mother who would come calling in the afternoon. Incidentally, I changed all my chairs to plastic ones and I worked naked at home too.
I do don on the kilt when the doorbell rings. I won't recommend it on a draughty day.