I meet Trina off the bus. She'd been waiting at the bus stop at the RLI (our hospital) for twenty minutes due to a misunderstanding. I am profusely apologetic and she's gently chiding.
I said "We could replicate our first date by going to the Water Witch again." It's a canalside pub, converted stables, romantic when you want it to be. We are holding hands under the table and I start moving her hand towards my cock, hardened with our kissing. She put her head close to me. "I am not touching your knob in public."
I asked her what size she is, (it's all different of course, according to label) because I now need to move on to the next stage of her corrupution, which will be buying clothes for her which achieve the double objectives of being things that she would like to wear anyway, and which make me want to fuck her. She tends towards rather loose clothes and we need to get her a few shirts which are a bit tighter, to show her tempting, gorgeous tits off a bit more.
"I don't want any more beer," she said. "What shall we do now?" and answered her own question. "Actually, I've still got those earrings I left at your house. Shall we get them?" On my tiny little sofa cushion of a bed, I couldn't really wait very long so I got some almond oil out of the bedside cabinet and smothered it round my cock and poured and fingered it on and inside her cunt. I came, a lovely, grateful coming, my moans turning into laughter at the shared awareness of doing something utterly pleasurable, yet ludicrous. "Ludicrous"; the stem "to play". That's what sex is: playing.
Afterwards, getting dressed, I said "Are you going to be alright with all that almond oil on your cunt?" "No it's alright, just spread a bit of flour and sugar and leave it for a bit and we can have homemade macaroons."
I see her snoggingly off on the bus. Dishevelled and not in the mood, I go to a rehearsal for our Dickens things which goes well. We repair for drinks to Neil and Kev's flat. It's too noisy and I only last an hour. Tanya especially, lacking the slightest sense of turn-taking in conversation. A much more interesting bloke and his girlfriend turn up with two bottles of wine but Tanya and Neil constantly fight with him for what seemed like my attention.
Midnight. As I was walking home my phone rings. Some mobile number I don't recognise. It can't be a debt collector at this time of night, so I answer it. It's someone who's got my number off the couchsurfing site. Someone who was supposed to be staying in Kendal this evening is stranded in Lancaster and looking for somewhere to stay. "Yes, it's fine, give her my number."
At the bus station, a Hungarian girl, late twenties, with an alice band with a yellow rose in it. She's a doctor, starting work on Monday in Liverpool, who has spent a long day hitch-hiking from there and failing to get to Kendal. We walk up to my house and we chat to the lodger, who's making his tea. He's unusually sociable but goes off to have his enormous meal. Me and the Hungarian girl have a good couple of pints, talking about second language acquisition and her escape from a couple of potential rapists in Faro. I've rustled up a bed for her on the short sofa in the living room.
Tomorrow: Trina, all day on the narrowboat. A bit of shopping, then lots of fucking. She is a girl and she is my girlfriend.
