Ridiculous

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Relationships sometimes start with what I call the slow burn. Like the one I had with a girl from work. We’d known each other and liked each other for a long time but it wasn’t until we were travelling together that anything happened. I’d never been sure if she was gay or what; I only knew she was single and never talked about anyone special in her life. She was Josephine Larkin and I’d fancied her for ages. We had often talked over coffee and I thought maybe, just maybe, she was interested. Bitter experience of rejection not to say outright offence had stopped me taking any initiative.We checked into an hotel and went to our rooms to shower and change after a long journey before meeting up for a drink and a meal.“You’re gay too, aren’t you?” she had asked over a sharing plate of delicious Chinese morsels. I was just using chopsticks to shove a prawn in my mouth and it fell, smearing my chin with chilli dipping sauce.“Christ, you pick your moments! Yes, I am but I had no idea you are too.” My gaydar was never properly functional.“You’ve been flirting with me for about six months!” She was smiling so I guessed she wasn’t too upset about that but the truth was that I hadn’t been deliberately, or perhaps I mean knowingly, flirting with her. “And the way you’re dressed now suggests you wanted to make an impression, which I have to tell you, you have.” She picked up her napkin and wiped my chin. “Good job this didn’t get on your lovely, sexy dress.”I nearly did the, ‘what, this old thing’ thing but the truth was that I had made an effort. The black dress was short, not too revealing but not too concealing either. Jo Larkin Beşevler escort bayan took me to her bed. She’d started at the dining table, taking my hand in hers, her long fingers stroking. Her knee touched mine under the table.“I’ve been dying to ask you out.”“I didn’t dare hope you would.”“Well, here we are and why should we wait?”Since I couldn’t think of a good reason she stood, still holding my hand and led me to her room. Our first kiss was tentative and in the lift. The second, by my guess around half way to her floor, was firmer, her tongue pressing against my lips and they parted obediently to let her in. When her room door closed behind me she took my hand and kissed me again, while her hands undid the zip down my back and she pulled my dress forward and down to expose my breasts which she kissed hungrily. I don’t remember the dress or anything else coming off, nor can I recall her clothes coming off either but they must have because soon we were on the bed and she was in me, fingers in my cunt, tongue in my mouth. I spread my legs and wrapped them around her so that our cunts were kissing and I don’t know where her fingers had gone but we rubbed together, tits mashed, mouths pressed together until with a muscle stretching arch of my back I came and probably disturbed the rest of the hotel guests. Jo came a few moments later and that was because I’d got between her legs and fingered her and tongued her until it happened. We lay together after, then did it again, slower and more gently and, with light shining between the curtains in the morning I woke her up with my Escort Çankaya tongue and we tried again to see if it was as good as it had been the night before; which it was.But this is not the point of my story.While some relationships take time to develop others seem to just be.Karen Miller was a beautiful Irish woman about three years younger than I. It was the explosion that did it. No, no, I mean a real explosion.People will tell you different things about their experience of an explosion and I guess it depends where they are in relation to it and a load of other factors that govern their experience. Mine was like this. I was sitting in the lobby of one of the big banks’ head offices, suited and booted for an interview. The weather outside was crisp and sunny and I had chosen a gunmetal pencil skirt, white blouse and dark blue jacket along with the usual underpinnings and was reading a newspaper while I waited for what seemed ages. I don’t remember hearing anything until I was conscious of far distant wailing sirens, a few very muffled screams and a wet sensation on my face. I tried to move but a hand restrained me and I felt a sudden searing pain in my left arm. I tried to move it but it didn’t work.A face, the face of an angel moved hazily in front of me and I saw glossy red lips move but couldn’t hear what, if anything, was said. I passed out. When I next came to the face was still there, smiling at me reassuringly and I asked her who she was but she must have been foreign because she didn’t answer. I saw the sheen of her almost black hair and the sparkle in her eyes. I was Cebeci escort suddenly tired, desperately tired and darkness fell again.“Well, you’ve been in the wars.” The voice was from my left and not very distinct but I turned my face towards it to see a nurse in pale blue scrubs adjusting a drip on a stand beside me. “Don’t worry love, you’re going to be fine.”That, I thought, was one of the great lies of the world. My mouth was as dry as a pilgrim’s sandal and my head felt as if the entire British Fleet was firing at the enemy inside it. I tried to move but nothing seemed to work. Oblivion, I thought, was what I needed and kind Gods delivered it to me.They told me it was three days after the gas main exploded that I was properly conscious and for me, that was about a year too early. A nurse, maybe the same as before but maybe not, was taking my temperature with a device stuck in my ear. She smiled benignly and left to be replaced by a middle-aged woman in a white coat, salt and pepper hair tied severely back.She shone a torch in my eye as she asked me if I knew who I was. Of course, I knew who I was. I was, er, well, okay maybe I wasn’t exactly certain but then it came to me and I said “Libby.”“How old are you, Libby?”“Thirty-six.”“Does anything hurt?” Well, thanks for asking, every fucking thing hurts but I didn’t say that. I simply nodded because talking was getting tiring.The doctor sat in a chair beside me. “You were in an explosion. You’re going to be fine but you lost a lot of blood. You took some glass in your face and you were concussed. Your hearing is going to come back but may be slightly impaired. Understand?” I nodded again. She took my hand. “A piece of glass went through your arm and severed an artery but someone tied a tourniquet around it and saved your arm and probably your life. You’ve had surgery and it’s under control. Your face isn’t damaged, a few little scars most of which will disappear.”

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