I finally got up to the Lakes about 3.30, after a hideous detour through the outskirts of Preston due to the M6 being shut between junctions 29 and 30 - I was pissed off by junction 28 and somehow managed to navigate around the problems, but not without a certain amount of trauma and sweating.
This was the first time I'd seen Coniston in the sun, and it really is beautiful - but Friday was the last I'd see of the sunshine for the rest of the weekend!
I phoned Steve and he was at the pub, he said he'd be half an hour, so I checked in, opened my champagne, and took it down to the Lake to drink, with my book, because I know what a Steve half-hour can mean. But what do you know two minutes later he was calling to see where I was - he really had only been half an hour.
We went up to my room and just sat on the bed kissing for ages. It was weird, it felt as if we hadn't seen eachother for months, even though it was just over a week. We made love, and it was a very emotional more than a physical thing.
By this time we'd finished the champagne, so I bought a bottle of wine and we took it with us on a walk by the river, which ended up with us in the nip sitting in the river, and then making love on the bank. Then we walked back down the path in our underwear, because we were drunk and wet and didn't have any towels. We met quite a few people on the way, but we just brazened it out. 'I only do these sorts of things when I'm with you,' Steve said.
We went back to the room and stayed up late with a couple of outfits, a riding crop, a vibrator and two silk ribbons. 'Everything feels so right with you', he said, 'there's never any awkwardness with us, you know how to kiss me properly, how to touch me.'
We know we are meant to be together, we both want to be together, but how to go about it when he's stuck up there and I'm here? So that was where things stood on Friday, and really they've moved in little since then.
