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Having Kat declare her undying love in Departures had taken me by surprise. I'd been planning the big, tearful farewell for nearly a month. I knew that sooner or later Kat would turn up again, supremely tanned all over and brimming with lots of sweet promises. At one stage I'd become so accustomed to all the clawing that I didn't feel it anymore. Not that she'd ever admitted to being lesbian or even bi.
That night, (over a year out of practice as I was), I did feel it . Well, not apart from telling me that she was done with "bastard men" after her most recent break-up.
The cabbie eyed us in his rear-view but said nothing. ' 'Swear to God and hope to die.' 'When's your birthday? Play your cards right and I'll invite you to my very exclusive party.' 'Can I come too? Sinead was clearly impressed and resisted not at all when I dragged her back into one of the bedrooms. We'd eaten on our flights but that was some time ago and airplane meals aren't exactly full Sunday dinners, are they?
Yet just then our hunger only had one inspiration, and it didn't include food.
Her arms tightened about me as she kissed back with equal passion, her tits pressing into my flat chest.
'Sweet Mary, Mother of God,' she said when, some significant time later, we broke for air. ' 'Let's get a cab to the hotel and I'll show you how kissing should be done,' I replied. ' I grinned at her and said, 'I haven't even started.' ***** We got a taxi off the rank almost straightaway and the ride into Puerto Del Carmen took about quarter of an hour. Manuel knows all about Basil and his disgraceful treatment of Andrew Sachs. When Fawlty Towers was on TV in these parts, Manuel wasn't a Spaniard, he was an Italian called Paolo.
Thankfully, Arrivals in airports witness lots of emotional reunions, so we weren't thrown out.
Or maybe my boyish looks fooled everyone into believing we were a straight couple, long-parted by an evil fate. I waited until the storm abated then kissed her mouth in a very thorough way.
As the briefest of brief recaps I'll remind you that, last time out, I ended by seeing the love of my life off on her global travels, and that as far as I was concerned, it was our third and final parting. Our latest spell of living as a couple hadn't followed the course of the previous two. Whatever it was, she was there in the pub, not quite two in the afternoon, four or five hours ahead of my usual arrival time, waiting for me. Not when we're both here and now.' ***** I'd like to say we chatted in a civilized fashion, dined in the pub's restaurant and then politely retired to my bed. Chapter Two My first couple of Kat-free months found me very much in slut, harlot and whore mode.And take it from me; she knew my orientation, all right. It was the first week in September and my plane landed at Arrecife Airport just half an hour after hers.Getting her to agree to a week in Lanzarote took patience and skill, depending on points of view. She was waiting for me in Arrivals and I recognized her at once. Well, we had after initially sending each other "I wish" images of old film stars, cartoon heroines and a quite busty pornographic actress with a gold star all of her own.On the one hand I had been flirting with her for two or three years, nudging her in the direction I wanted her to go. At that moment in time I'd had precisely one genuine snap of Sinead to go on, and I wasn't so entirely sure it really was her.On the other hand I finally invited her and, within an hour or so, she had booked us flights via a cousin of hers, and heavily discounted flights at that. Seeing her in the flesh made me realize her stupendous bikini-clad pic didn't begin to do anything like justice. She was as tall as me (five-eight) with lovely long, dark red hair, beautiful bright green eyes and quite spectacular tits. Think "red hair" and "Irish" and you expect paleness, but not in her case.