But I've turned the nuisance into inspiration once. Here is an excerpt about 9 inches. No, the story is called:
She sighed again and decided to earn her keep and opened the letters that were just delivered by the postman: bill, junk mail, booking and more bills. Nothing could interest her until she came upon a pink envelop with a card inside, addressed to Mr. William Darcy and marked private.
Tomorrow would be Valentine’s Day. Could this be a Valentine’s card from his present girl friend? Did he have a lover now? Why was it sent here?
Elizabeth racked her brain and thought hard. She had been feasting on gossip magazines since she came here but she hadn’t seen any recent photos of him with any women.
“Private, but not personal. I’m the secretary here…” She murmured. Curiosity was killing her. After a few minutes of deliberation, she decided to open the card.
It was a cheap bland Valentine’s card with a red heart on the front. Inside, there was just a short few sentences of illegible writings with many blots:
My dear Darce,
I t’s time of the y ear. Get your 3 inches out and s hag some girls wit less.
Ig ore their comp ains and en joy yourself!
Your best friend
“Shit!” Elizabeth dropped the card and swore, “What did Bingley tell him to do?”
She picked up the card and read it again. “Get your 3 inches out and shag some girls witless? Ignore their complaints and enjoy yourself? What sort of best friend was he? Why would any girl want to complain if Darcy shags her? I sure wouldn’t complain. The man is scorching hot! But hang on! 3 inches! 3 inches? How many centimetres is that?”
Elizabeth scratched her head and wished she had done better in class with mathematics. She hated the imperial system. Luckily Google was right in front of her. She typed in “length converter” and clicked on the first website.
Three inches = 7.62 centimetres.
She looked at the ruler on her desk, right in front of her eyes. Surely that could not be! Such a hot guy could not be so badly endowed. He was tall, his hands and feet were big. His shoulders were broad and his biceps strong. She thought back at their tennis lessons. He usually wore loose sport trousers so there was no way she could tell. Anyway, she had not ogled him before. That’s not true. She might have ogled him a little bit, on the legs and the torso, but not there!
You have to check out one of my short stories collections to read the full story.