Davina in Lust

Sex, sex, sex! Sharing again at first, taking turns, using no more than fingers, lips and tongues, Mikki still coming along in leaps and bounds . . . both of us cumming in leaps and bounds . . .

Then, shortly before midnight, I introduced her to my red strapless strap-on. As experiments go that one was a roaring success; afterwards Mikki breathlessly declared no man had ever come close to my performance. Not that she'd had so many men . . . and not that many of them had made her . . . "well, you know" . . .

*****

Thursday morning and I agreed a string of dates with Mikki, mostly at my place but several at hers (in what she called her "poky little flat"). I was aware others would be missing out on me, not least Mikki's line boss, Joyce, but didn't really care. As far as I was concerned sex with Mikki covered all my bases. Right then I simply didn't need sex with anyone else.

Yes, I'd gone beyond lust and was verging on true love.

And the feeling was clearly mutual.

Yippee!

Then, early doors, five minutes after I'd settled at my work desk, hot, aromatic coffee before me, Kat rang.

*****

At this point I'm going to use information I found out later. I'd call it "hindsight" but it isn't really that or anything else I can put a name to. Anyway, here goes . . .

Kat was in Sydney when she discovered her bank account had been cleaned out, losing over fifteen grand. And she found out in the most shocking way, when an ATM refused her five hundred dollars.

Contacting her bank (in the shape of a call centre in India) she quickly got her account closed and a replacement instantly created, with the details and new card to be sent to Main Road, East Morton, recorded delivery.

Not much use to a girl stranded in New South Wales was it?

Being surprisingly helpful after previously going by the book, the call centre girl increased the limit on Kat's linked credit card to five thousand but then Kat, a regular user of bank cards but a very irregular user of credit cards, couldn't remember the relevant PIN.

(She used a lot off f-words in describing that particular revelation, making me sound like a vicar.)

Cancelling the rest of that year of travelling Kat rang and asked me to watch out for the replacements from the bank . . . and if I still had her work clothes hanging there in my closet.

Startled by this blast from the past, I took stock. Despite our differences, despite our break-ups, this was Kat, the love of my life. She'd suffered the most outrageous misfortune. She couldn't possibly be making it up because I'd be getting her replacement banking clutter.

(Yes, suspicious old me, I examined all the angles, sympathy votes included.)

Bottom line was Kat was marooned about as far away from home as could be with no money and a credit card only good for small, contactless transactions. No way was I able to abandon her to a cruel fate.

'How are you going to get back?' I asked her.

'I've got my open-ended air ticket,' she replied. 'It's not quite as good as it sounds. If I want to use a well-travelled route I only get third class or stowaway. And I have to wait for a cancelation. Trouble is Sydney to the UK is about as well-travelled as you can get. I might be waiting months. And even then, God only knows where I'm going to live while I wait for the bank to refund me.'

'You're going to live with me,' I said, surprising myself with my certainty. 'No funny business, you'll be in the spare room, but you can stay until you get back on your feet.' Then, prompted by Logical, I told her to ring her bank again and ask for a PIN reminder. 'That'll land on my doormat next week. I'll open it and call you with the details.'

Kat sounded a touch overwhelmed at that but still managed a quip. 'Isn't it a serious offence to open a letter addressed to someone else?'

'Yes,' I said drily. 'I believe the penalty is transportation to Australia. If the worst happens our planes might pass somewhere over Singapore, going in opposite directions.'

'I'll never forget this, Dave.' Now there was a definite sob in Kat's voice. 'I meant it when I said I love you, and now I know exactly why.'

'No funny business, remember?'

'Anything you say. You are the boss.'

'Okay, just keep that in mind. When do you expect to be back?'

'It could take forever. I'll have more chance with that PIN number, though. And Manchester will be a bit more of an option.'

'Get the reminder and I'll get you the number. And let me know as soon as you get a flight time. I will be there with Maxine 2 wherever you're landing. We'll get you home safe.'

Kat sniffled at that. 'You're the best friend anyone ever had. And I really do love you.'

'Me too you,' I said. 'Now get back on to that bank.'

I kicked myself as I hung up. "Me too you" had significant sentimental meaning between me and Kat. I had only gone and used it with Mikki.

Kat didn't know about Mikki, did she? And, name aside, Mikki knew eff-all about Kat, the ex- who was never coming back.

Oops!

To say the least, I had a lot of very choppy water ahead of me.

Afterword

I tried my best but probably didn't get halfway through my promised catch-up (and no, I didn't drag my feet on the grounds of this being unlucky Episode 13). The concluding episode(s) is/are all prepared in note form. All I need to do now is put pen to paper . . . or, rather, my fingers to a keyboard . . . and the tale will be told, and soon at that.

Thank you for reading and take care out there.

X Davina

Notes

*In the order they were written (logically if not chronologically), the twelve previous stories in this series are:

Davina

Davina Again

Davina Does Christmas

Davina Does Easter

Davina Does Older Women

Davina Does Scotland

Davina Does Three More

Davina Falls Out

Guess Who Just Got Back Today

Guess Who Just Got Ditched Today

Sex in the City

Let's Talk About Sex