Well, I saw her again this afternoon. First time in about 3 months, but she always seems to pick a weekend, Saturday or Sunday. Its only because I bumped into her up the road and she said she’d come around again to ‘catch up on everything’. I didn’t mind; especially as she usually brings a bottle of wine with her.
We went for a walk in the Woods and sat near the Pavilion. It was quite crowded, so we avoided the queues for tea and coffee, ice cream, whatever. It seemed strange, almost uncanny, sitting on a hard wooden bench looking at the Pavilion bathed in the warm sun. It was here that notorious witchcraft ceremonies were said to have taken place at night back in 1973; the Pavilion forecourt even having had a ‘magical Circle’ inscribed on the tiles. The local paper had gone on to publish a photograph of this (or the remains of it) and gone on to embellish the story by suggesting that Long John Baldry’s pet tabby cat, ‘Stupsi’, had been ‘sacrificed’ during such a ceremony after LJB had reported it had ‘gone missing’. Well, only two weeks after all the scandal had finished flying around, the mangy thing returned home but amazingly, Baldry said nothing to the paper about this, and the story was set down as a ‘part of history’ – erroneous history, that is. (Are you listening Long John Baldry’s cat?!) Those days seemed far away now; seemed almost non-existent in the bright daylight. She remembered the story though, and we both had a good laugh about it.
Back at the flat, there was the usual stuff to ‘catch up’ on – Sundays are not really the most relaxing of Summer’s days in the Woods.
She’d arrived wearing an almost transparent dress, which wasn’t difficult to see through even though you were trying not to look (or not to make it obvious that you were looking!). The Woods walk had highlighted this even more when her slim body had been ‘outlined’ with the help of the sunlight.
Now, she sat on the bed which ‘doubles up’ as a sofa because the double bed next door is almost inaccessible due the partial collapse of the ceiling. Her short dress was well up over her thighs, but she kept leaning aside to show me things from her bag, and then it came up even higher! She had beautiful legs (and she knew it), but why shouldn’t she ‘show these off’?, and she certainly knew that I wasn’t complaining!
I realised there was a strong chance to pursue the opportunity further, but I didn’t try to take any advantage of it. I could have easily gone and sat next to her, probably kissed her easily, and that would have been the start of it.
But the truth was, I didn’t really want to. At least, I wanted to, but just couldn’t be bothered going through the whole procedure. I knew there were no deep feelings involved from either her part or mine, but sexual attraction (even devoid of any love) can be so powerful sometimes.
She left about 4 hours later and I walked her to the front door. But before opening it, I kissed her goodbye and this soon led to more tender kisses at the front door. I felt safe now that I was out of the flat, so didn’t resist when she guided my hand under the light dress to touch her bare shoulders. There was a little more before she left, then I wandered back upstairs (my bad foot of little help) to check the Websites. Decided to put this in Sunday’s blog as nothing much else has really happened. And besides, it makes a change from religion!
Just wonder if my dream of A. will come back again tonight.
My my. Transparent dresses. Stolen kisses. Bare shoulders and thighs. The human touch indeed! This blog is getting to be like the adventures of Tristam Shandey! I can hardly keep track of the women. Please give your women initials as I find it difficult to follow whom you are snogging, whether in real life or in dreams. This is a good idea for your next book. Forget all the psychic stuff. Do a bawdy autobiographical, “A Swinging Witch in 60s London” or something.
Oh, and I can say nothing about the incidents of the past except to say Baldry was not glad to see me upon my homecoming and in fact tried to persuade me back into the woods via his boot.
Just giving a quick glance here, LJB’s cat as I have two important appointments today so can’t really reply now. As it is, I’m up at the ungodly hour of 9. 30!
But you’re right about the book/s; maybe these do need a little more clarification which was why I was forced to remove one line of your ‘miaowings’!
I’ll do that this evening. Not really a bad suggested title though, except I was never really a part of any ‘I960’s scene’, or any other scene.
I’m just ‘little ‘ol me’ and I can only write about life as I find it, or as it happened.
you old romeo you. If you don’t watch out you might end up making someone very jealous.
No need to be jealous, Veronica. Somehow I’d think we were just quite matched!
-“I was forced to remove one line of your ‘miaowings’.
There is actually some substance to that tale??? Oh please tell me this is true, it would be brilliant.
Hear, hear!! Standards must be maintained; this not the Daily Sport.
Seriously, though, it was a jolly interesting account of what had taken place, with a touch of suspense in places.
I have had to do it again, Long John Baldry’s cat! That’s two miaow’s less now!
Seriously Cat. You must behave yourself! This is a blog, not some scandal sheet for salicious gossip. What you proposed me to answer, is just how such gossip starts in the first place.
The answer to your question is, I have absolutely no interest in the way people of given religious denominations may be dressed. The same applies to the person you alluded to.
I cannot – and will not – discuss private individuals here; nor will I make comments or observations about such people just to satisfy the whims of people who might otherwise think that this blog can be used for such a purpose.
It is just a simple blog, for me to share my thoughts, that’s all!
That is all I have been doing, but this does not mean I am prepared to discuss ‘fantasy suggestions’ which have no relavance to genuine discussion here.
Why don’t you just go out for a ‘heavenly stroll’ with the goat, and while you’re at it, get it lobotomised or something – if they do such things up there!