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A Sad Tale Of Toes

His feet were warm, having been spread out in front of the hot radiator whilst he worked at his desk. Hers, on the other hand, were cold. Freezing cold!

She had not worn slippers to protect her feet, preferring to simply tuck them under herself, sitting in a leather armchair watching the TV. Foolhardy with no consideration. Now they were about to strike!

After stretching his stiff legs against the crisp chill of the freshly laundered bed sheets, he lay on his left shoulder, his right foot slightly upon his left, keeping the warmth within his body as much as he could. Her right foot led the attack.

It was a strategy he was accustomed to, but he was not aware of just how cold her feet were. The big toe was first into the fray, surreptitiously sliding against the underside of his overhanging right heel. The next move was not her usual method of attack. She had recently read an account of one of Nelson’s attacks on the French fleet. Nelson’s innovative move had surprised them, now it was about to succeed in bed! Or was it?

Both feet attacked simultaneously.

Raising her leg she placed her knee heavily against his kidney, causing her right foot to slide further up his pyjama clad leg, as her left foot slipped between both his feet. He could take no more……..

“Why dear love do you do make such a move,

When you have only to choose

My advances of thrills and bliss

Bestowed on your body but without the risk

Of freezing my ardour before it does start

By allowing your cold to attack my heart?”

He was Russian. A man of many poetic words, few making sense.

She was Italian and the opposite, being verbose in the extreme. Only this time he never heard most of her words as she mounted the most ferocious physical attack he had ever been involved in.

She rolled on top of him, pinning him uncomfortably against the bed.

“Ardour you say? You obviously don’t mean harder,

As you couldn’t care less if you tried!

You keep your warmth to yourself as if your skin’s been fried.

I’m sick of you with your selfish ways, and inconsiderate behaviour too.

You’re just about to be hit on the head, with this heel attached to my shoe!”



She pounded away, never stopping for breath, nor ceasing to curtail her blows.

She sneezed in excitement, but even that, didn’t stop her to blow her own nose.

By now she was away. Her body now warmed, even sweat appearing on her brow.

It was now that he flipped, no more could he take. He swore this solemn vow!

“I promise my love that from this day forth no more are my feet my own.

I admit my faults. ‘Tis true that my love for you I have not always shown.

I will warm you through, be kind to you, by sharing my bodily heat.

Now please my love, be gentle with me, go lay on top of my feet.”



This tale of toes is not over, it never ended that night as if a sweet dream.

As his feet lost their heat, it finally ended in a terrible, piercing scream.

Her love had departed along with his heat, but that was not all that he lost.

He now saves money, by paying less, than his regular pedicure did cost!

Do take seriously all your wife’s woes,

Or else you too might lose some toes!
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Published on November 13, 2017 05:03 Tags: bed, italy, russia, the-desolate-garden, toes, warmth, winter

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