TROPHY WIFE

The Honourable Angus was tremendously proud of his collection. Over the years he had harvested a herd of trophies mostly from Africa but there was a smattering of taxidermy from South America and three tigers he had shot illegally in India. In pride of place over the big stone fireplace, firmly set between two magnificent lions heads, was his rogue bull elephant, the tusks protruding right out into the room seven foot or so above the floor so that for a party piece he could, when encouraged by too much whiskey and the shouts of his chums, perform a sort of gymnastic stunt by gripping each tusk in his hands and lifting himself up off the ground. The skill was to see how many lifts from the floor in front of the fireplace the Honourable Angus could perform before his muscles wouldn't let him do any more. The whole stunt wasn't always done just for show and would on occasions involve serious competition with anyone foolish or drunk enough to issue a challenge. The Honourable Angus though was so far unbeaten in the “Jumbo squat thrust stakes” as he called the exercise or as his long suffering wife named it, his “tinkering between the ivories.”

“How much do you want to bet this time?” The Honourable Angus was goading Jonny.

“Fifty quid,” said Jonny with more confidence than his wallet should have allowed.

“Oh Jonny don't be a fool. He's bound to beat you.” The Honourable Angus's wife had a soft spot for Jonny and she knew her husband would win the bet.

“Fifty quid.” Jonny confirmed the wager and the Honourable Angus removed his jacket ready for the trial.

It was another easy fifty pounds and the Honourable Angus managed fifteen lifts to Jonny's twelve. The two men slumped exhausted by their efforts into the leather arm chairs in front of the fire place.

“I'll bloody well beat you one day,” said Jonny.

“I doubt it,” replied the Honourable Angus. “But you're welcome to keep trying.”

The two men drank far too much whiskey and the Honourable Angus's wife probably over did it on the fizzy white and she tottered her way up to bed relieved that Jonny had decided to stay the night rather than risk the breathalyser.

The Honourable Angus came up several hours later and collapsed onto the bed in a state of drunken dishevelment. His wife tried to undress him but the decidedly unfriendly grunts and groans that he uttered put her off the job and she left him on his side of the big bed to snore with a token bit of the duvet over his dressed body.

She got up and went to the adjoining bathroom, squatting down, as she always did, without touching the seat to pee. Like her mother before her she had never liked contact with the seat of a lavatory, home or away, and so avoided it.

She hadn't heard Jonny come up and decided to go and see if he was alright. She padded along the landing and found the spare rooms empty with no sign of any life at all. The door to the guest's bathroom was open and she peered in to the empty room calling out his name in a half whisper. Heading down the main stairs in her bare feet, she pulled the pinstriped shirt, one of the Honourable Angus's old ones which she had adopted as her night dress, more closely around her shoulders and neck. She could see the dim light from the slightly open drawing room door way and she entered quietly.

At the far end of the long room she could see the figure of Jonny as he pulled himself up and down between the elephant's tusks. She stood quite still and took in the show before her. Jonny had no clothes on. It was , she began to realise, quite erotic watching Jonny, dear Jonny, straining with his back to her, the moisture on his body glistening in the warm glow of the table lamp that had sole responsibility for lighting the room. She could feel his efforts, see his sinews as they strained to lift and lower his undressed body. The biceps muscles on his arms tensed and relaxed as he went up then down, up, then down. His shoulder blades moved like metal plates beneath their taute skin covering. The hollows of his buttocks puckered, in then out, with every rise and fall. The Honourable Angus's wife felt as horny as the big Elephant's tusks she saw Jonny, dear Jonny, swinging his neat, naked body between, so beautifully in front of her.
She approached very quietly on bare tip toe and when he had lifted himself up off the floor once more, reached around his hips with her outstretched arms to feel for that most sensitive area of Jonny's anatomy, dear Jonny's anatomy. The effect of the Honourable Angus's wife's touch was electrifying. Jonny leapt and danced like an enraged cock salmon hooked on a fishing fly and fell to the floor uttering the words “Fuck me!”, a command that the Honourable Angus's wife didn't disappoint in carrying out almost as soon as Jonny had hit the floor.

And so it was that the Honourable Angus's wife and Jonny became lovers. In the very early hours under the watchful gaze of that vast grey head, the Honourable Angus's wife had the best sex she had had probably for ten years. It was as though the rogue bull himself was taking her and indeed at one stage a ménage a trois developed with the Honourable Angus's wife hanging on to the tusks while Jonny took full advantage of what was so obviously on offer just above him.

“That was the best tinkering between the ivories I've ever had,” she said to Jonny as the two of them sat spent together in the old arm chair under the twinkling, smiling, knowing eyes of that old rogue bull and the two lions. What comes round goes around the animals thought and how appropriate it was that justice had been done and the Honourable Angus's wife had been stuffed and mounted too.