THE SUNBATHER'S TALE
by
Paul Wilkinson

It was sometime last year that it happened
A hot, balmy day in late May.
I lie!... it must have been August
'Cos the wife and the kids were away.

I was thinking I'd go in the garden
And potter about in the veg'
And maybe I'd tidy the borders
And possibly trim back the hedge.

So, I'm standing there minding my business
Surveying the state of the lawn
When I happened to notice the woman next door
Lying nude!... as the day she was born.

At that precise moment, she happened to turn
As she reached for the sun tanning cream,
And seeing me standing not twelve foot away
She let out a loud, piercing scream...

"You dirty old bugger!" she shouted
Can no woman sunbathe in peace?

  Are women not safe from old lechers like you?
That's it... I'm calling the police!"

They gave me a right dressing down when they came
No matter how much I protested.
"We've had blokes like you at the station before,
Once more... and we'll have you arrested!"

The following week, it was sunny again
And I'm thinking, "It's not bloody fair!"
So I peeped through the curtains, just to make sure
That the woman next door wasn't there.

Well, the garden appeared to be empty,
So I though, 'Right... I'll 'ave a repose.'
So grabbing the lounger from out of the shed,
I quickly stripped off... all my clothes.

So I'm lying there... gently basting
Wearing nothing but factor fifteen,
When all of a sudden... from somewhere next door,
I heard that familiar scream!

"You dirty old bugger!" she ranted
"Can we not clean our windows in peace?
Is no woman safe from old flashers like you?
That's it... I'm calling the police!" <<<

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