Jane

I did promise you a blog today so here it is. It’s a bit rushed so may not be up to my usual Hemingway standard!

I saw Naomi when I arrived at the yard. She was very harassed as one of her stable girls hadn’t turned up for work so she was doing double. I didn’t think asking her about my sexual situation would have gone down well so instead, I offered to give her a hand, which she gratefully accepted. My ride(s!) could wait.

It took about an hour and she suggested I popped up to the house for a coffee when I came back from my ride ‘and other things’. I wasn’t sure if she was being facetious or not, but looking at her face and the tone she’d used it seemed not.

I shortened my usual ride, I was getting too stimulated in the wrong places to enjoy it for its main purpose and I doubted my horse would object to a less strenuous workout.

Back at the stables, I untacked and as usual, rode him back to his field bareback. I was feeling hot wanting to do what was becoming part of my routine, but as I was later than usual there were too many people around so, rather frustrated, I put him back in the field and wandered up to the house, a big old Victorian farmhouse.

I wandered around the back to the kitchen and found Naomi there chatting to another woman who I vaguely recognised but had never spoken to.

“Ah, here she is, my little helper. Saved my life this morning with her extra hands. Tracy this is Jane, she owns Rex, that huge grey.” (Information you don’t need, sorry, but us horsey people recognise each other by their mounts rather than faces).

I had no idea if this was one of the women she’d spoken about or whether it was some random owner who happened to be at the house and I could hardly ask!

We sat down and had a coffee and talked horses.

Jane, I guessed, was in her mid-fifties, well preserved (god that’s bitchy), and quite fun.

We chatted for half an hour or so and then Naomi announced she had things she needed to do and ushered us out. As she did so, she whispered to me. “Jane’s one of those I mentioned.”

This was surreal. What to do now? After half an hour's chat, I could hardly just say to her “Naomi tells me you’re bi. Fancy a quick shag to show me the ropes?” Could I? Nah.

As we wandered back to the stable yard chatting, I was desperately trying to think of a way of broaching a subject that could lead in the right direction, but nothing came to mind. As we reached our cars Jane glanced at her watch and said as it was near lunchtime did I fancy a drink?

Well, yes was the answer, but it didn’t help me much. I didn’t know whether Naomi had told Jane anything about introducing me because she was bi or at least had bi experiences, so I didn’t know if this was why she was asking me for a drink or whether it was an innocent social invitation.

Either way, I said yes, and we ended up in a nearby pub. It was the first time in years that I had been into a pub with anyone other than long-time friends and I said as much to Jane.

It got the conversation going and talk of our divorces (Jane’s was five years ago) and relationships soon came up. Her breakup sounded even more acrimonious than mine and we were soon commiserating with each other. I mentioned how uncomfortable I was in the company of men still (sorry guys, but you are helping a lot!) and she laughed and said “You and me both”.

I hoped the conversation might then move in the right direction, especially if Naomi had told Jane about my wish to try some female ‘company’, but Jane steered it away to other more prosaic topics and I couldn’t bring myself to try to force it back on the track I wanted.

Eventually, Jane looked at her watch again and said. “I must go, I’ve really enjoyed chatting. Would you like to meet up again sometime?” Was she asking me for a date? Oh wow. Steady Tracy I told myself, you’re getting ahead of yourself. I obviously said yes and we exchanged telephone numbers and she promised she’d call.

We went out to the cars and said goodbye and she leaned forward to kiss my cheek. That’s when things, for me at least, changed. What left an indelible impression on me was that as she kissed me her hand ran down my back. A light touch, but somehow loaded with sexual innuendo. Her fingertips touching in a hugely sensuous way. As she moved away I looked at her face but there was no indication of anything there other than a friend saying goodbye. Had it just been my fertile imagination? My desperation for something?

I’ve no idea, time and a possible telephone call may resolve it.

Sorry guys, that’s it. If you had been hoping for a blow-by-blow full lesbian lovefest you’re probably as disappointed as I am. Keep your fingers crossed, perhaps she will phone.

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Also if you haven’t read earlier blogs click on Tracy_Trouble below to see what I’ve been doing. XXXX