Dreaming about sex, except it wasn't a dream!

Monday December 29^th

Today we spent a fairly quiet day, pottering about. I took the dogs to Crummockwater, Loll went to help her Mum doing some work at the caravan site cleaning a couple of statics for New Year’s Even guests. It is one of Molly’s permanent jobs, like her cleaning for Dad. She has about a dozen clients in the area and as she charges £12 per hour, she makes a good living out of it.

After all the excitement of Christmas, having meals out and feeding people it was good to just chill out with no pressure or tasks to do. We just vegetated for the day but spent the afternoon indulging our passion for each other.

Once we had recovered I introduced the Lollster to a couple of films I really like: Bienvenue Chez les Ch’Tis and Lan Grande Vaudrouille. She thought they were charming, and silly, and totally unlike anything you see from Hollywood.

Tuesday 30^th December

It couldn’t last. This morning having spent Monday doing virtually nothing I decided I simply had to clean my room and en-suite. I ended up not only cleaning but rearranging everything in the room. I used to do this a lot asd a child. I’ve moved the day bed to under the south facing skylight window, I put the bed on the opposite wall, so I have a view to the Solway straight through the north dormer window. I was able to get one the chests of drawers between my walk in robe door and the en-suite door but I have to find a longer piece of co-ax cable to reach the aerial socket for my TV, DVD player and PVR, which live on top of it and in the top drawer respectively.

The biggest task was moving my two book cases and cleaning the books. They have got so dusty it’s unreal. I clean every time I am at Dad’s and I know Molly gives the room a quick dust and vac on her days for Dad so I must have forgotten to clean the bookshelves! I also decided that they needed a back on them, so that the books weren’t just pressed up against the wall.

I measured up carefully, and taking Dad’s new tank, we drove into Workington to the big B & Q to buy some hardboard with wood grain pattern on the smooth side and some co-axial cable. The dogs looked really miffed that we drove off and left them in their kennel. I promised to take them to the beach when we got back. Do dogs understand promises?

In Workington we shopped at Nubian (B & Q) and then went into town for a swift stroll through the shops and a cuppa in Debenham’s café (it has brilliant views out over the River Derwent). There was deal on Thierry Mugler’s Angel so I restocked on one of my favourite smellies and we spend a while in the clothes department.

Back at the ranch, I set to with Dad’s jig saw and cut the hardboard to shape. I then pinned it carefully to the back of each bookcase, I used over 50 panel pins for each bookcase, but the hardboard certainly won’t come away in hurry. Where the two pieces of board abutted, I ran a strip of Dad’s waterproof fabric tape over the joins. This is marvellous stuff, even better than gaffer tape.

We then spent a good forty minutes reorganising the order of the books on the shelves by author. (Something I hadn’t done up here – I have at home, but then I have about ten times as many books at home than here) The DVD shelves proved tricky as I couldn’t decide how to arrange then, in the end, even though I don’t like doing it, I arranged them by title. Laura thought my previous method (by Director’s name) was a bit anal! She may have been right!

The dogs’ patience was rewarded with a romp along Maryport prom, from the dockside, right down to the end (by the golf course) and back up the hill to the Roman Museum and then down the zig zaggy steps to Wallace Lane from the old town. It kept spitting with rain but we didn’t get too damp. A bonus was getting a hot chocolate drink from the Roman Museum as we passed – I often do this when I walk the dogs here. It is really tasty drinking chocolate.

Wednesday 31^st December.

The New Years’ Eve party was in Cockermouth, along Henry Street. I have driven along Henry Street to the ‘new’ housing estate which backs up to the by-pass, never really paying much attention to the older rows of terraced houses on Henry Street. I had assumed they were a bit like mine, simple two up two downs with an attic. Mike P’s house was a three storey property that just seemed to go on and on out the back.

Mike was in Laura’s class for most of her time at school and is a loyal friend. He did carry a torch for her for a while but, of course, nothing came of it. He didn’t know she was a lesbian back then [nobody did – as part of a self-preservation instinct Laura had] but he does now. We have met a few times and on the first occasion he subjected me to a quite severe grilling to make sure I was just dallying with Laura’s affections in order to have her and then dump her. [She obviously hadn’t explained how our relationship started and I decided it wasn’t up to me to tell him.] However, I must have passed the test as we were both invited to the New Year’s Party and he introduced us to his parents (he still lives with his parents) as Laura and her Girlfriend Victoria.

It was an across the ages party, with guests invited by each of the family members, so there were grannies all the way through to little children. As such it had the feel of a comfortable, safe event. There was a room just stuffed with food and Mike’s father had bought a barrel of beer from Yates brewery (West Newton), we didn’t try the beer, naturally. We took a couple of bottles from Dad’s wine rack and I brought along some Pomegranate and Elderflower cordial as I was driving tonight.

I just introduced myself (or was introduced) as Laura’s friend from University and most people seemed happy with that. I did get quizzed about what I was doing, but you could tell a lot of people hadn’t a clue what a PhD was and they adopted that stunned look when I tried to explain. Mike’s Mother is an embroiderer though, so we had a long chat about all thing stitch related and she told me all about Higham Hall and the courses it runs in various types of embroidery. I have driven past it many times on the way to the Back O’ Skiddaw fells, but I had no idea that it was an independent, residential, adult education college. It runs a massive selection of courses and even does Ruskin Lace. I have been teaching myself using a book I bought written by a woman called Elizabeth Prickett. It seems she used to teach classes doing this technique at the hall. She has retired now, but one of her former pupils now teaches the classes.

Pandora (Mike’s mum) goes as a day student rather than having a room there (Cockermouth is only four miles away, so it seems silly). For her money she gets a meal on Friday night, two on Saturday and one on Sunday. They work until 10pm on the first two days and then to lunch-time on the Sunday. This costs her about £120 for the weekend. If she was residential it would be about £170. This sounds like a remarkable deal. She found me out last term’s brochure, which I put in my bag to peruse at leisure at home.

I showed her some photo’s (on my phone) of things which I had made and she was fascinated by the Japanese thimbles I have started to sew. I may have made a friend there.

At the witching hour [or just before] we all were invited to prime our glasses and Anthony (Mike’s Father) turned their hi-fi radio on to listen for the countdown to midnight. There was some music leading up to the bongs and then everyone clinked glasses and went around wishing each other a happy New Year. I was kissed quite a few times and so was Laura, I noticed. As the whole throng trooped out into the long, long back garden for the fireworks I grabbed Loll’s arm and held her back. I gave her a proper kiss in the kitchen and told her that I loved her so much. She said that she loved me more. We then went on like little kids exaggerating how much we loved each other. Pandora had witnessed this, unknown to us both. She came fully into the room and said, “So Mike wasn’t lying then. You seem to have found a lovely partner, Laura. I hope you are happy together.” We discussed our relationship as we walked down the garden to join the crowd gathered to watch the fireworks.

I asked Pan if they’d brought a bucket of water down in case of accidents with the fireworks. She went and asked Tony who said they didn’t need one. I volunteered to fetch one if she wanted, so she explained where there was a tap and bucket on the patio and I went off to collect a pail of water.

This turned out to be a good job. I gave the bucket to Pan who passed it to Tony. A few minutes later, with all of the fireworks about spent a huge fountain style one toppled over backwards and started spraying the fence with its flames. In seconds the fence seemed to catch fire which prompted shouts of advice from lots of people but Mike simply stepped forward, once the firework had gone out, and threw the bucket full of water at the fence. Towering Inferno averted. A few people started to praise Mike for his quick thinking but Pan, on our way back to the house for hot dogs or beef burgers quietly said, “Thanks for that.”

Standing in the hallway listening to one of the younger children telling me about the floods in the town {she had watched one of the rescue boats carrying people to safety from the High Street area onto Sullart Street way back in 2009} Mike’s Dad thanked me for suggesting the water bucket, too. They do seem like a nice family.

The guests started drifting away at about 1pm. The girl I had been chatting to, had fallen asleep in the armchair by the telephone in the hall. Her dad picked her up while she was still asleep and carried her out to their waiting car. I held open the door for him and told him my Dad used to do that for me, I would fall asleep at home and wake up here in Cumbria (as he like to drive through the night from Norwich). He told me who my Dad was. I never cease to be amazed at how many people know him. He also said he, and his family, were hoping to be invited to a Christening later in the year. I told him I wasn’t even sure there would be one, but he assured me Dad and Louisa had said they were going to have her splashed!

When I located Lollster, she was chatting with Mike’s big sister. They were both a bit tipsy, sitting on the floor of the dining room, munching their way through what remained of the crudités for the dips. The dips had long gone. I grabbed the last remaining pieces of celery and joined them on the floor. Mike’s sister must have just asked about what Laura was going to do after University. Laura was saying, “I haven’t really worked that out yet. I am looking at doing a Masters. My tutor thinks I should, if I can afford the fees. I don’t want to leave Sheffield if I can help it, it’s lovely. Also, I am hoping this one... (she reached over and grabbed my neck, pulling me towards her) …will ask me to marry her.” Here she kissed me. Then dissolved into giggles.    I was given a quizzical luck by Mike’s sister and I nodded at her, “It is a distinct possibility. But keep it under your hat, please. And you madam! I think it is time you were put to bed.”

“Oh yes, please!” She struggled to her feet and then draped herself round my shoulders. She began to nibble my ear as we walked (waltzed almost) down the hallway, to where Pan & Tony were saying goodnight to another couple of guests. I thanked them for a lovely evening and even Laura managed a decent attempt at a thank-you although it probably didn’t disguise the fact she was drunk as a skunk! The cold air hit us both like a slap in the face and Laura wobbled some more as we tottered towards the car. She plonked down into the passenger seat like a sack of potatoes being dropped.

On the drive back she nodded off to sleep for a while until we stopped at the junction to the Bullgill road off the A594. “Are we there? I am going to fuck you so much when we get in. I love you eating my furry bit…” She lapsed into silence again as we drove on to the village.

I navigated the drunken nymph into the house and up to my bedroom. She flopped onto the bed and started snoring. I left her and went to see to the dogs. I simply let them out into the paddock for their first ablutions of 2015. They seemed to take forever but were probably only ten minutes. It might have been quicker to walk them up Tall Hill instead.

Back in my bedroom, Laura had not moved at all. She looked absolutely gorgeous with her hair spread out round her head like a blonde halo. I can’t remember the last time she was this drunk. I carefully undressed her taking care with her important little places. Licking, kissing and even sucking her nipples evoked no reaction at all, not even an automatic, involuntary erection of them (they can stand out as long as the end of my thumb when she is seriously aroused).

It seemed she wasn’t going to fuck me so much after all. I helped her under the quilt and as I climbed in beside her a four armed octopus wrapped itself round me from the side and nuzzled its head under my chin. It made a, “Mmmmm!” noise and then was still again.

I woke up at about 5am and I was still entwined.

Thursday January 1^st.

When I woke up this morning I was in the middle of a seriously erotic dream where I was being fingered expertly and delicately by Richard. Or, it was Richard at first but then the person changed into a vague amorphous somebody whom I couldn’t recognise but who certainly knew their way round my vagina. I got wetter and wetter and more and more aroused. This became increasingly urgent and intense until I realised I wasn’t dreaming at all, there were at least three, maybe four slender fingers inside me, down below.

“Do you know I have been doing this for the last five minutes?” I wasn’t sure whether Laura’s tone was amused or annoyed. I didn’t get a chance to reply because instantly there was a click, a buzzing and a cold hard object replaced the fingers, sliding into me and hitting against my cervical opening causing me to gasp in delight.

“I told you I was going to fuck you so much….”

She did. We spent almost two hours getting downright dirty with each other. It was truly wonderful. We showered afterwards and then both of us walked the dogs up Tallentire Hill to greet the New Year and the Lake District national park with our company.

I was sort of expecting Laura to be hung over but she seemed as right as nine pence. She knew she had been really far gone but also seemed to be aware of everything she had done and what she’d been feeling. “Every time I saw you chatting to someone, I just wanted to wander across and secretly slide my fingers into your knickers.” This was very un-Laura like. She is usually modesty and decorum personified! It is as though she had remembered what I had told her about me and Richard, and how I wore stockings to many social functions so that he could surreptitiously slip his fingers into my vagina. Now she was wanting to do the same. I am not going to object!

Back at the house we skyped everyone we thought deserved a New Year message from us. It was mid-afternoon in Australia but we had a long old gossip. Dad and Louisa had to be fetched from the pool (again!).

After a cobbled together from odds and sods kind of lunch we sat and snuggled together on one of the sofas in the lounge and just hugged and hugged. Out of the blue and apropos of nothing in particular, Laura said, “For the record. And to make sure there are no doubts or misunderstandings… if you asked me, the answer would be ‘Yes’, definitely yes, totally yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!”

“Let’s wait until after you graduate and then we can spend all of our time deciding what to do. How’s that?”

“Don’t you want to?”

“It’s not that at all. I just feel guilty that I am the only person you have ever known sexually and that you would be entering into something without having tried any alternatives.”

“Not this again! So what do you want? Do you want me to fuck around? Do you really want me to have lots of different lovers just because you think I can’t make a proper decision without having had lots of different women’s fingers in my cunt? Is that it?”

“No. It is just that I feel as though I am taking advantage of your inexperience. I don’t want you to feel pressured into doing something because you think you ought to do it, not because it is what you really want. Do you see what I mean?”

“How would you feel if I let every girl at Uni who hits on me fuck me? Would that make you feel better? What then?”

“I would be heartbroken. I couldn’t stand it. It would be the worst thing that could happen. It would kill me.”

“So what’s the worry then? Why the doubt? Yes, you are the only person I have ever fucked but why is that a problem? I love you, you idiot! If our love counts for anything then the number of people I have fucked shouldn’t matter one jot. I know you have been a bloody nymphomaniac in the past – according to what you have told me . That doesn’t affect how I feel for you at all. And anyway, you have only ever had sex with one woman too, so why not?”

“How about this then? After you get your results, in the summer, we hold a party to celebrate that; and at that party we announce our engagement. That’ll give us plenty of time to save for a ring each and people will be, sort of, forewarned about our nuptials, probably after I get awarded my PhD. How does that grab you?”

It obviously grabbed her pretty well as we spent the next half an hour or so just snogging. In a break, when we both came up for air, Laura said, “We’ll not tell anyone until the party. That way it’ll be a real surprise and people won’t feel they have to buy us ‘engagement’ presents.”

“Do people still do that?”

“I did for my two sisters…”

Our evening meal and rest of the night was spent in a sort of warm, contented glow. The desire to shout from the roof tops was overwhelming. The feeling of having a shared secret was wonderful.