Stoned, drunk and naked.

Yes, I know. Sunday's been and gone (as has Saturday night) and that means a post about GG is due. Okay then. I'd hate to disappoint, so here we go...

The pattern appears to have been set. A train ride from her apartment in Marylebone over to the north London/Hertfordshire border, where I pick her up from the station. Then dinner, lots of wine, and a spliff or two, followed by sex - usually starting off by the fire in the lounge and ultimately ending up in bed. This week was no different, and GG was armed with an assortment of the most gorgeous sushi, courtesy of Selfridges food hall, when she arrived. The wine was mine, a really nice Rioja in honour of her Spanishness.

We ate on the floor, and the first bottle seemed to disappear without either of us noticing. I opened another, and as we chatted after eating GG nonchalantly started to undo the buttons on the dress she was wearing. I didn't even realise she was doing it, until I looked up at her at one point and saw her breast exposed, and then it amused me to watch her subtly making herself "ready". Soon our clothes had been completely removed and before long she was pushing me back onto the sofa where she sat astride me until she came.

We lay in front of the fire for a while, and she made a joke about the fact that we're always "stoned, drunk and naked"... come to think of it, she has a point - we are. At one point, she was looking at me quite intensely, and I felt it was time for me to make something clear. "GG, its important that you understand something", I said. She asked me what it was.

"I'm not looking for a traditional, full-on relationship at the moment... my independence is really important to me. I just thought you should know that, because I don't know that I can make any commitment other than to enjoying the moment. And I really have no idea if that's going to change." She looked at me for a moment, and then smiled. "Be quiet and fuck me again", she said...

I could talk about the sex some more, because its beginning to fascinate me. But suffice it to say that, some time around 4am, I had to tell her that I couldn't go on. I needed to sleep, and I was beginning to loose feeling in the vital places. Unsurprisingly, I got up late on Sunday morning, and GG came downstairs an hour or so after me. We had breakfast and pottered about for a few hours, and just talked about this and that... it seemed kind of peaceful. Comfortable. Around the time she was due to go, she simply walked over to where I was sitting on the sofa, removed my jeans, boxers and socks, and fucked me again without saying a word. And then asked me to take her to the station…

Some of the comments leading up to this post have been interesting, and yes - I will post something more about how it is when GG's around and try to clarify what it is that I feel. I seem to have written, again, about sex, as if sex is all that there is. That's not really true, but GG summed it up from her point of view when we were having breakfast. We were talking about her journey over the evening before, when the trains had been delayed and she'd consequently turned up later than she'd meant to. "I was really pissed off", she said. "It cost me half an hour of fucking".