Sleep

Warning: it gets a lot less innocent below the cat picture.

Two annoyances, before the main feature: I keep getting emails from my ISP saying I've exceeded my usage allowance. The house has used 110GB this month so far. I know little about internet usage but it sounds like a great deal to me, and that's added £55 pounds onto my internet bill. It's certainly not me. I'm not here half the week and I can't believe my odd hour of youtube runs it up that much. It's him downstairs.

I am constantly postponing asking the owner of a local brewery to be sponsor or a guarantor against loss for our Dickens event. Despite having been asked to deal with this a fortnight ago I haven't done anything about it. I don't like asking people for money. This afternoon, there was a demanding ten minutes of what I hoped was plausible lying today when I bumped into Neil and Kev in the pub whilst trying to luxuriate in the recovery from my time on the boat with Trina.

But never mind. Neither of those are going to figure in the filthy text I'm going to send Trina in a bit.

"Where are you going?" asked Jenny, as I made to leave after getting them their lunch yesterday. "To G---," I said. "To see Trina." "Is no-one going to look after us? Are we going to be left here all alone?" she said, self-mockingly, importuningly, tilting her head towards me. "No, it's alright. Mummy will be here in a couple of hours."

Trina met me off the bus and we donned wellies to tramp along the towpath to her narrowboat. We were volubly chatty for a couple of hours, working our way through a couple of the bottles of wine. She suggested we should getting lunch, or whatever meal it is you have at 3pm, ready. She had on the white bra I like, underneath a loose thin blueish top which slanted down towards her tits like an envelope (there must be a more correct term for that cut), and jeans. "You get everything ready and I'll just stand behind you," I said. I didn't think it was that funny a remark but it sent her off into laughter and kisses.

On a narrowboat every movement is considered. We set up a rickety little table and had a carefully poised lunch, including a Garstang Blue cheese which smelt of urine and would give Bleu d'Auvergne a match for delicious intensity. "Well, I think we should go to bed," she said, with a welcome abruptness.

I love our undressing. I like how selfish I can be. I was naked before she was, wanting her to notice my hard cock while I slowly arrange her tits to my visual delight. "Bra on, or off?" she asked. "On," I said.

Afterwards, we dozed into sleep. She got up before me and busied herself with more drinks. I came out of the bedroom in my T-shirt and trousers. She was wearing a dark blue sundress. It was elasticated and ruched across her tits and what should have been an unflatteringly A-line of figure-hiding material below them. I came up behind her and delighted in putting my fingers against her nipples and tits and stroking her underwearless body underneath it. We sat on the sofa with a bottle of rosé on the little table. "Excuse me," I said, unbuttoning my fly and undressing myself and taking my cock at its base. "Could you suck my cock please?"

"Phew," she said, coming up. "It's hot down there." I put her fingers onto it and placed mine on top of hers. But there was an untouched bottle of rosé and there are priorities, and we started talking again. Politics, family, exes. We stood up to go to bed again, kissing, and she said "Can I say this? I know I'm a bit squiffy, but I love you to bits."

We were just laying down, getting into bed and a spider started abseiling towards the pillow. I shrieked "Werrr!" and jumped out of bed. She wasn't that bothered, and flapped at it with her bra. "No, no," I said, "it might drop on us." It had retreated to the ceiling. I took my tissue out of my pocked and scrunched it to death.

It took me a little while to recover, but I did. Her kissing was different. She has this exciting way of kissing, withdrawing, saying "No, looby, not yet." But now she opened her mouth wide and put her hand behind my head, pushing me towards her. It was even more exciting and I pushed her legs wider with my knees and stuck my cock in her with little more preamble.

She snores with stentorian volume, keeping me awake and leaving me utterly tired in the morning. We had cereal and strawberries for breakfast, and then I suggested a little nap, having told her, as diplomatically as I could, that she makes a rasping noise to banish all sleep. She took it well and it was laughed about, and we did have a lovely kissy doze (during which she started snoring again), but I can foresee separate beds for sex and sleep.

I went round to Kirsty's as we had to sort some things out with the girls. Jenny showed me her elaborate rehearsal schedule for Preston Guild and Fiona was angling for a game of football in the street. But I fell asleep on the settee and woke up half an hour or so later to find Kirsty washing up with her banging house soundtrack on. As I went to leave, Kirsty said "Shagged out?" "Yes, a bit." "Come on looby, if we fiftysomethings can do it so can you."