So, as of last week, I’d not posted for a while and in my returning post I had said that my little thing with the most gorgeous Ginge was no longer a viable love avenue, famous last words!!!
Nipped out early doors last Thursday, just for one as you do, got in bladdered at 11.30. It had been a great night, all the faces were in the pub and it was one of those nights where everyone just enjoyed each others company, Pool, beer, wine, women and song…and Ginge.
Since our last encounter, we have become good friends, always share hug and a kiss on the cheek when we meet and shes confided in me as to things which are troubling her and causing her much anxiety. As always I’m strictly confidential and very supportive, offering financial and emotional support but never heavy and pushing my feelings on her.
Anyway, I wobbled through my door late on Thursday only to get a text from her telling me she was home ok after I had previously text to ask if she was. Next I get a text asking … Cuddles? Followed by…Nothing more…Well whats a man to do? Tell you what…I stopped eating the Bolognaise sauce straight out of the slow cooker, I’d put it in earlier with a view to having a quiet night with a decent meal, threw a t shirt on and wobbled back off up the road to her house where I found the front door slightly ajar awaiting my arrival. Ginge was in bed, slightly worse for wear.
So politely I asked to get in, fought with the multiple layers of bedding (why cant people just have duvets?) and snuggled in recieving a huge hug in return. My heart melted, the butterflies circled my stomach like dragons, I was happy, I was content, I was in the place I most want to be in the whole world. We talked, neither of us want a relationship, both of us have issues with trusting others and cant remove the barriers to letting someone else into our hearts.
The night drifted in to early morning, still we talked, we spooned, I traced her bare back with my finger tips, ever so slightly, teasingly along her spine to the nape of her neck across her shoulders, my fingers ran delicately through her hair and as we spooned I kissed her neck and shoulders, seductively but not sexually. She moaned lightly and squirmed and passed comment that I did everything she loved, we kissed, again not sexually nor with the intent for it to progress further. It was just so right, just so perfect, just what I want, what I need, what I yearn for.
We drifted to sleep with our bodies till entwined until the alarm call sounded, we stirred and held each other tighter, her leg draped over mine, her face snug to my neck. Oh how I wish I could wake every day like that, it makes my heart burn just typing this, it is so what I want, she is so what I want.
I left for work, leaving her with a tender kiss and a spring in my step as I joyfully took to the “walk of shame” No shame in it for me and I hope no regrets from her. We saw each other the following day, nothing was said, just pleasantries as she drank her Rose wine at the bar dressed to the nines in a dress before going to a wedding function. I couldnt take my eyes off her, she glowed, radiant with copper red hair, deep red lip gloss that shimmered invitingly for me to kiss, heels that elongated her legs allowing her to strike a demure posture, jewellery on her wrists that dangled to her hands, those hands which I long to hold, long to have in mine.
I thought back to our conversations of the night before, how we spoke of our fondness of each other and the potential, not of a relationship, but of friends with benefits, my offer to take her out and spoil her, not make a fuss, but let her enjoy a night that she deserves for being a fantastic mum, a hard worker and a truly beautiful lady. Ive said before in other posts of how hard I find it to talk to her about this in depth, she just takes my breath away, I have no words that can make this happen.
I listen to this song, over and over and over…its her, it is, she is my Perfect Storm.