It felt odd pulling her robe over my body, like a dim and distant memory that was better forgotten. Had it really been so long?
Once it had been easy to slip between the two, now it all felt so wrong, but needs must. I hadn’t planned on staying the night with Lydia, just a mild flirtation over red wine after work. The one thing led to another story and here I was the next morning making coffee, with her robe wrapped round me.
Lydia stood there giggling, ‘you really ain’t got the legs for it, Tim.’
I just grinned. I wasn’t about to say anything about that, it was way too soon for that. Instead I said, ‘really wouldn’t go with my trainers now would it?’
Back in the bedroom of Lydia’s little flat she leant against me trailing her fingers over my chest. Her nail grazed over the feint scar buried in my chest hair, making me catch my breath. On a good day I enjoyed the sensation of being touched there, on bad days it could send me down. Today was a good day.
‘Ow, you have been through the wars, love’ she whispered.
‘I won the battle, baby, that’s all that matters’ I said as I kissed her gently.
©JG Farmer 2018