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Ginger Minge

  Thu 16th August 2012

"Listen Bryony, just to get this out of the way first, it'd be easier if we slept in the same room. I'll put that mattress down and you can have that, and I'm sure we could find a decorous way of getting ready for bed. It's just that otherwise one of us has got to sleep downstairs and K gets up quite early." "Yes, that's fine," she said, unconcerned. "Have you eaten?"

Bryony first contacted me about the same time as Trina and we've chatted by email since. Her, detailing her falling out with a quietly aggressive silent type, to whom women with well-paid jobs in marketing, like Bryony, are sometimes attracted.

She wondered whether I could put her up for a night on her way to Scotland for a holiday. "This is your opportunity to get rid of me if you want!" We roamed around Lancaster at 9.15pm, looking for somewhere to eat. "I'm not used to this," she said. "In Manchester..." and then caught an impoliteness. "You're in the sticks now, Bryony." The Pizza Margherita was still serving and she bought pizza for us, a bottle of wine, and then we had a pint in the White Cross on the way home.

Waking up in the middle of the night I wondered where I was, looking over to Bryony asleep a yard away, her red hair spread over the pillow. "'Yes, I would like to see you again', he thought. Preferably with your hair spread all over my pillow'," it says in an American C20th novel the name of which I can't recall now.


Trina snores, so I am very tired in the morning, having spent the night trying to incorporate her massive noises into dreams. I fall deeply asleep as soon as she gets out of bed. After a slumped, black two hours, I woke up to see her back in bed. I kissed her and we woke up properly, with sex, both of us laughing at near or actual orgasm. It's such a silly thing to do.

The next day she came to Lancaster. "Well, Trina, what would you like to do? We could go to mine, or we could have a drink." We walked silently on for a few seconds. "Yeah, well, that's it really." We went for butter pie, peas and gravy, the finest contemporary exemplar of popular Lancaster cooking. In the Sun, one of the young, black-miniskirted, female staff smiled at me pawing Trina, perhaps with pleasure at knowing that I am diverted by a greater attraction than is offered by her practiced coquettish manner and her nervousness about the precise position of her skirt hem. Female staff in pubs have to manage sexiness and propriety, serving drinks, and trying to please.

12 comments

Comment from: [Member]

that line about the red hair on the pillow reminds me of an old pick up line: “Great legs, sweetheart! What time do they open?”

Fri 17th August 2012 @ 02:39
Comment from: [Member]

According to my magic watch you’re not wearing any underwear.
–Yes I am!
Oh right - it must be fifteen minutes fast.

BTW the post title is a reference to the most unfortunately named woman on the internet. (After it redirects–5th row, RH side)

Fri 17th August 2012 @ 13:54

Sorry, who’s got the Ginger Minge? I’m getting confused by your multiple partner approach (also very jealous)

I think you really have to create a table or a mind map describing partners, attributes and sexual preferences/phobias so the rest of us poor bastards can get a grip on your hypersonic sex life.

Butter Pie? New to me.

Tickling feathers are good at orgasm time.

Sat 18th August 2012 @ 07:53
Comment from: [Member]

Just to clarify, although we were sleeping a yard apart, it was separately.

I did publish a table last year but I couldn’t be bothered maintaining it after about May 2011. Far less sex than you might imagine.

Now come on TSB, we went through Butter Pie a month or so ago.

Sat 18th August 2012 @ 12:47
Comment from: Homer [Visitor]

Far be it from me to disagree with TSB ;) but any partner of mine who brought out a feather at the Crucial Moment would get short shrift. The last thing I need at that fragile point is the mental image of Ken Dodd and his tickling stick.

Sat 18th August 2012 @ 21:53
Comment from: [Member]

Yes I must say, anyone pulling that stunt on me would be sleeping on her own for a long while!

Sun 19th August 2012 @ 10:36
Comment from: isabellebo [Visitor]

Blimey, what an unfortunate name ! Being a ginger myself I’ve experienced it frontline… from the ‘duracell’ taunts at school to the ‘does the carpet match the curtains? ‘ line.
(oh and I loved your red red shirt at the wedding do)

Sun 19th August 2012 @ 12:37
Comment from: [Member]

Duracell? (Actually, no, don’t explain it–sometimes it’s good not to know).

And thank you! The shirt was Marks and Sparks would you believe, via Kendal Oxfam, the last thing I bought on me and Gaynor’s raid of the secondhand shops there.

Sun 19th August 2012 @ 17:01
Comment from: furtheron [Visitor]

Like TSB I struggle to keep up with the revolving door of women who you are sleeping/dancing with!

Sun 19th August 2012 @ 20:34
Comment from: [Member]

Only one of the former.

Mon 20th August 2012 @ 10:23
Comment from: isabelle [Visitor]

Duracell ….. as in the copper top( battery)
And I think trina’s offer sounds genuine and lovely, you’ll have a great time I’m sure !

Mon 20th August 2012 @ 15:53
Comment from: [Member]

Oh I see. Well, I collapse a little bit when an attractive woman has ginger hair. Perhaps it’s that primal sex drive for the unusual partner. Denise (this site, passim) has ginger hair.

Mon 20th August 2012 @ 21:39


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