Muscle power

I've never actually seen a porn film, but rumour has it that the plot lines are flimsy in the extreme, being no more than a few moments of contrived dialogue before the protagonists rip their clothes off and get busy with.. well, whatever's floating that particular boat. But I sort of felt that I was in the preamble of a porn film, a couple of days ago.
The backstory: an acquaintance, a mother at the school and the wife of a diplomat, is about to move overseas for a few years on a foreign posting. Last week, two weeks before her departure, all her plans for letting her house out, furnished, fell through, and she suddenly had two weeks in which to sell every stick of furniture in her house. So we school locusts gathered round to see what we could consume. I sort of thought that, at the age of 40, perhaps I should have a matching set of dining chairs for the first time ever, and then there was a biiiig red armchair that the girls fell in love with, and it seemed a pity not to buy the table to match the dining chairs... Anyway, we ended up with rather a lot of new furniture. Problem: seller leaves country on Saturday: John gets back from Egypt on Friday: I need to do something about moving this furniture way before that.
So, the network sprang into action. Another mother, round there buying a bed, says "Oh, don't worry, I'll lend you Bartek." Bartek turns out to be her male Polish au pair. Mother says cheerfully, "He'll do anything you like for two hours, and he'll only charge you fifteen pounds."
This is the part where I felt that I'd ended up in "The Slavic Shaft" or some such. Housewife's husband has gone away on business and she's sooo bored, but don't worry! For two hours, the Polish au pair will help her revisit her lost youth and give her the time of her life! He'll do anything she likes! (Anything?)
Actually, it wasn't at all like that, as you will have guessed. Bartek was extremely obliging, but only in the furniture department. He was, however, incredibly strong, lifting sofas and armchairs as if they were empty cardboard boxes - practically with one hand - and flinging them in and out of cars and doorways without ever breaking into a sweat. We desperate housewives, with our executive husbands, were fearfully impressed. Now and then one of us would say, "Wouldn't you like some help?" and he would say, "No, I do it", and shrug his shoulders, and flick another table into the back of the car.
But he was only nineteen - less than half my age! - and I can't say I viewed him with even a dispassionate lustful glance, and he obviously only loved me for my fifteen pounds ; ) Still, the armchair and its friends are great: so it was a win-win deal, really.

Three posts in one session. I'd better go and put the kettle on.