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The Sexy Tailor's Mess

A Tale of professional Tess the Seductress

By Chuks Gad NwaigwePublished 23 days ago 2 min read
Tess & Her Sexy Mess

In a bustling part of London, down a cobbled old lane,
Lived Tess the tailor, with a quite curious fame.
She stitched and she sewed, her skills were the best,
But her love for the lads put her skills to the test.

“Come in, dearie,” Tess would purr with a wink,
To the chaps in the queue, who'd blush pink as pink.
Her measuring tape would glide over them slow,
While her intentions were clear from the get-go.

Tess’s shop was a hive of fashion and fun,
With more double entendres than you could outrun.
“Let’s check your inseam,” she’d say with a grin,
As the chaps braced themselves for the fitting within.

Old Mr. Bentley, with trousers too tight,
Would leave with a grin, feeling ever so light.
For Tess had a knack, not just for clothes,
But for thrilling encounters nobody else knows.

There was Stan the postman, who’d stop by each day,
With letters and parcels, and more to convey.
“Just a quickie—err, quick fit!” Tess would declare,
As the two disappeared to the back, without a care.

She's skilled in her sew

The rumors flew round, from pub to the square,
Of Tess’s talents, beyond the repair.
“She’ll patch up your heart and your pants, just the same,”
Said the gents with a wink, “She’s earned her acclaim.”

One day in walked Nigel, with a suit made of tweed,
Needing adjustments for his important deed.
But Tess, ever busy, with her “extra services”,
Got her threads in a twist, causing quite the diversions.

Threads got twisted, feeling horny – buttons flies...

With fabric and buttons flying every which way,
Tess’s shop was a chaos of naughty display.
For Nigel got more than he bargained that noon,
As the tailoring session turned to a swoon.

She’d juggle her lovers, her sewing machine,
Her calendar full of delights unforeseen.
Yet amidst all the romps and the merry commotion,
She’d craft perfect suits with unerring devotion.

One afternoon, the mayor popped in with a plea,
For his trousers were split from his tumble in glee.
Tess took one look and said, “Fear not, dear chap,
I’ll mend your breeches—and perhaps, your lap!”

So, late into the night, her shop lights aglow,
Tess worked her magic, both high and low.
The men left her place with a spring in their step,
Their wardrobes and hearts both meticulously kept.

But it wasn’t just passion that kept Tess in play,
Her laughter and spirit lit up each day.
For Tess the tailor, with her needle so keen,
Knew how to stitch joy into every scene.

Great in mending fabrics mess

So if you’re in London and your trousers need mending,
Or perhaps a wild tale with a cheeky ending,
Pop into Tess’s, she’s sure to impress,
With her skillful hands and her delightful mess.

In the end, dear Tess, with her love for the gents,
Created a legacy that still makes no sense.
For though she was busy with extraordinary affairs,
It was her humor and heart that caught everyone unawares.

Hope you enjoyed this piece.
Not sure what to do with a scratch on the head?
A ❤ ️, a share, or smash my nipples with a Subscribe, is enough buddy cos it encourages me as a writer to find lovely gists.
Got something to say?, see the comments.
If you want to, you can see more of my stories here>>

performance poetrylove poemsinspirationalhumorhow toFriendshipfact or fictionBlackout

About the Creator

Chuks Gad Nwaigwe

I'm minimalist. I’m loyal to my subscribers who love my stories. I love solving problems, entertaining and smashing nipples — that's why I write about interesting stories that could thrill your feelings without remorse.

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