If we only have one turn

Not deep, just fleeting
A stroke of the cheek, moving to the neck while kisses flow
Slow and gentle
Arms embracing, hands stroking. Caressing. Removing
Slow deliberate intent. Laying of hands on skin. Expectant breath.

Only the smallest of garments remain but remain they do.

Wrapping of arms around bodies, legs entwine
Kisses. More passionate, the longing not hidden but embraced
They move
From mouth, to neck, to pale white skin, to red fabric
Tentative kisses, purposefully misplaced on thighs, hips, stomach.

Hot breath on damp clothing bringing ecstatic anticipation.

Fabric moved but not removed
The lightest of touches bringing a deep intake of breath
Expectation bearing down
The second touch, a quietly rapturous sigh
And so it begins. This dance of lovers.

Tomorrow I travel to the homeland. No one will know that I go there for two days of unbridled passion with a man I met online. They will not know about restraining or the spanking, the teasing or the play and the long tender kisses, the slow gentle caresses, the hours of ecstatic foreplay or the toys that we will enjoy. They would never imagine the slow building passion and the depths to which we will drive each other as we lock the world out and enjoy the release of each other’s bodies. They will not see temptress, the vixen or the seductively curvaceous lover. They will not know how Mlle Auber excites me with her words, thoughts and deeds or of the banter and ease of Mr Hardy’s company (another blog - Friday looms excitedly).

They will look at me in my studenty jeans, jumper and scarf, my tousled hair and pale complexion and assume that I am a mid 30's woman travelling to some nearby place, probably to visit family or meet with friends for a quietly restrained lunch. They will see the good mother, wife and daughter. They will see the middle class employee but not the reader, the writer, the music lover (though my books and iPod go everywhere with me). They will, unless they check the hands, assume I am also the dedicated and loving wife living a humdrum and happy life in relative comfort.

They will see Mrs 2.4.

Life is too short and has too much potential for people to fall into pigeon holes with such ease.

The Squaw had hers. Then more. Her repayment for my trust given?

To spread rumour, lies and gossip about me and my friendships, relationships and life to the internet based peer group she seeks approval from and for whom she plays the little girl lost.

I received an e-mail from a mutual acquaintance asking me about things I apparently have said in confidence to her. Name calling, accusations of impropriety on his part, more accusations of me touting his alleged improprieties amongst an internet community. He was understandably upset and concerned.

She however is a desperate, twisted, insecure liar. She is also now without a 13 year friendship.

The Nurse threw away his. For a couple of months he was part of my life though I admit I kept him distant. Now he e-mails me because he wants to meet ‘for coffee’. Clearly his previous opinion of us not clicking has changed massively as he now states that he misses me and that I am ‘lovely’.

I think you can guess what my reply would have been had I actually replied before deleting.

I am the undisputed queen of domesticity!

With Eco Warrior due to arrive tomorrow morning for a little bit of hill walking (with a possible bothy visit along the way), I have had a chance to play at one of my other loves - cooking.

There was a day, back when I was in that blissful marriage, that I was the hostess. I planned the menus, I spent a day in the kitchen, I lit the candles, chose the music (much to everyone’s disgust) and I presented my guests with a sumptuous and delicious meal. Those days are long gone but my love of good food, or more appropriately the creation of good food, has never waned.

As such the chance to create for and please others with my culinary expertise (such as it is) is always snapped up when the opportunity arises and with our walking date booked I began to think about what delight I could prepare for a post hill lunch. Unfortunately life took over and my first chance to think about it arrived late last night while I was lying in bed unable to sleep.

Whilst gingerbread with a lime icing will be with us on the hill, lunch required at least a little thought! I pondered the contents of my larder and today I took a courgette, 1 aubergine, peppers, mushrooms, garlic, green beans, cherry tomatoes along with thyme, rosemary, eggs, milk and cream to create a roast med veg quiche. A loaf of Italian bread was made and salad with homemade honey mustard dressing will be thrown at it tomorrow in an attempt to replace the calories used in our cross training efforts. There may even be a nice cold glass of Sancerre added to the menu.

I even tidied. And hovered! You can tell I’m getting visitors in the morning.

This weekend I may race, then again I may not. Next week I will definitely race. Mr Hardy requires a pacer.

Before that though, a visit to the homeland for some catching up with D, some note taking, some gossip and possibly a little playful and distant teasing of Eco Warrior with a very far from plain Jane. He would indeed be enthralled.

This is someone I adore. A beautifully emotive voice and wonderful lyrics.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z68h8-fxlTY

Could I ask you all to take a look at this and, should you agree with its sentiment, add your name and alert others to its existence:

http://petitions.number10.gov.uk/YoungCancerEd/

I'm very glad I found this as it is something that I feel quite passionately about and believe should be given more credence during sex ed lessons. Girls currently are given fleeting talks about breast exams but precious little else in the way of real education on how best to prevent such easily preventable diseases. Boys are told very little about checking for testicular cancers.

It seems to me that we spend an inordinate aount of time teaching our children about how best to avoid STI's and unwanted pregnancies (all very relevant) but are still too backward thinking to explain to them in simple terms the importance or regular and easy checks for some of the most common cancers in the world.

The IT Man, though good at what he does, was ultimately disappointing. A man of reasonable imagination and little talent he talks a good game but failed to score - even one (!!), despite penalty time.

He carries a chip that has worn a large crevice in his shoulder after a turbulent upbringing. This being something I can relate to, I would agree that it has been earned but the chip is merely part of the wall that separates us intellectually and ultimately sexually.

With this chip comes arrogance - a trait I despise in anyone but especially in men.

More than that though, and I cannot believe I didn’t ask as it is usually one of my first questions - he is a smoker and a heavy one at that. He has been dispatched with dispassionate efficiency.

This alternate life, it brings good and bad. The bad is the uncertainty of acquiring a new partner, the disappointment when flirtations and effort result in the annoyance of being presented with a ’37 year old, medium build’ liar or the man who requires intricate directions to a clitoris. You quietly ignore the propositionary e-mail from the Neanderthal who brags about his BMW and 4x4 whilst referring to his lucky lady as a ‘sexy bitch’ (SexyMF, are you taking notes?) because you know that at some point the virtual vetting will lead the way to the grail you seek.

And sometimes, just sometimes, you manage to find a star amongst the black.
Eco Warrior, though very far from my ‘type’ provided me with quite possibly the most fun, laugh filled, relaxed, silly, sexy, passionate, interesting and enjoyable weekends I’ve had in a very long time.

A discreet meeting in a small village and I was handed the keys to his car and told that I was driving! Thankfully the drive to the hotel was a short one and the company was as refreshingly honest and entertaining as ever. We checked in – I was referred to as his wife and managed to resist the urge to introduce myself as his fuck buddy in a slightly offended tone – and we made our way, like playful teenagers to the place of our internment for the following few hours.

Limbs entwined, fingers stroking, tongues pressing, hands full of passionate intent. One mouth to another. Two people in need of sexy release. Toys and games for adults only. Rings that join but not tie. The pleasure was clear for neighbours to hear but there was no care, just freedom. The play continued, the players lost in their part as lovers until finally, slowly softly tenderly they give in. Gentle, rhythmic motion gave way to intensity and eagerness. No holding back, just carnal honesty until both sides were victorious in their ecstasy. No losers. Equality.

Score draw?

A rest for food, beer, laughs in abundance. Gentle stroking of my skin whilst I wooed the hopeful inebriates. Soft kisses of my lips between the fits of tipsy giggles from us both. A short and slightly wobbly walk back, exploration of each other and a very late night/early morning led us to a refreshing woodland walk with the usual array of topics discussed as we ambled.

...has left me with little time to write! I hope to remedy that in the next few days however with the purchase of miniature mobile technology that will travel as I do and experience the excitement, fun, relaxation, laughs and sexiness (Eco Warrior) as well as the disappointment (IT Man).

Today, after a short respite from his deliciously articulate words, I meet The Paramedic. I am interested to see if his intelligence can be proven over coffee as well as it is through text and e-mail.

My Tuesday liaison cancelled, my Wednesday evening will be filled with play, teasing and the very cheeky, horny Borderman. On Wednesday I travel to Edinburgh and it has raised thoughts of a ridiculous nature again.

If I were to tell him, would he care?
If I were to let him know that at 1pm I shall be drinking Italian coffee around the corner, would he come?
If he knew….this life I am building….would he be disgusted?
Would he want to hold me again with the knowledge of what I have done and what I plan to do?
Would he wish to lay his eyes on me with such tenderness of the past?

Ludicrous thoughts, I know. Why would he?