Thank you for reading my story, I hope that you enjoy it. Love Mica xx, Yorkshire England.
All email comments good or critical welcomed. Please note that all email comments from an invalid email address will be deleted immediately and will not be read, so please take care when entering your email if you want a reply. Rude or abusive comments may result in blocking. Please note that I am a British female, and I write in British English and vernacular, so for me a fanny is the correct term for female genitalia, a pussy is a pet cat and the ass is a bum or arse.
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My cousin rang and said he was in the area. Well, that was all well and good, but I haven't seen him since he moved to Birmingham with his job, and left us people in Bingley all behind. We kind of thought that he had forgotten about us, mostly because hardly any of us heard anything from him.
I am not in the habit of texting my Aunt and Uncle to see what he is up to, and they are not in the habit of phoning the extended family to tell us. Set up a WhatsApp group I had said, we can all keep each informed I had said. I set up aforementioned WhatsApp group and added everyone I knew in the family to it. Not one single person posted anything. Not once. I even posted Merry Christmas on Christmas Day, nothing.
"So are you going to be around?" Chris asked.
"I might be, have you checked the WhatsApp group?" I asked pithily.
"Don't Carole," he said, "just don't."
I was silent. I would like to see him, we had a load of catching up to do, but, his silence over the past six months had been telling, and I had thought we were close, kissing cousins you might say. It seems I was wrong.
"I want to see you," he said, "I have so much to tell you, not least of which is why I was quiet on Social Media, and I am not doing it over the phone."
"Okay," I finally answered.
"I'll come round in an Uber at seven to pick you up, can you be ready? Saves the Uber waiting is all."
"Okay."
And just like that Chris was back. Was it temporary, was it a flying visit? Who knew, well, obviously Chris did, but few of the rest of us did. None of the gang had heard from him, and to be honest, after about a month he was no longer mentioned. He ghosted us, we called in the ghost busters. No, not really, we simply stopped referencing him in anything.
What to wear? That was the question. I assumed that we would go up town, by up town I meant Bradford. There wasn't much happening in the evening in Bingley apart from pub drinking. There were quite a few pubs and they were usually heaving from around six onwards, but it was all cliques, and none of my crowd would be out tonight.
Either way, up town, or Bingley, the clothing would be the same. I stood naked in front of my wardrobe after I had showered and stared at my array of cheap Chinese frocks. I decided it would be the asymmetric black and white, bits of which were at knicker line and bits of which were a bit lower, sort of mid-thigh. A great dress to go on the pull, but to go out with a cousin who obviously wanted a chat that I hadn't seen for months?
His loss, I would wear it, and if I spent the evening fending off boys, or girls, then so be it. Wireless bra for comfort and micro thong for decency, not that I worried about that, I had gone out without knickers on more than one occasion.
I had shaved the day before, as it happened, so my pubes were smooth, and had also calmed down after having a 'not as sharp as it should be' blade scraped over them. It was payday next week, I would buy a new blade.
Flats, not heels, I had no idea how much walking we would do, and this dress only warranted stockings when it was a girls on the pull night, and as mentioned, tonight was not that, so I did not need the posture for heels. Flat shoes would be much more comfortable. Would we be eating? Heaven, and only Chris, knew.
Teeth cleaned and flossed, EDP dabbed here and there, and I was ready. Front door key, credit card, twenty pounds note, tissues, condom and a tampon all went in my bag. Many a girl carried a tampon and if their pick up got a bit handsy, they could always wave it and say 'sorry, not this week,' it usually worked, not that I have had to resort to that, I am not usually averse to a quick shag, hence the emergency condom.
Seven came and I left the house and stood outside after locking up. I hoped Chris and his Uber wouldn't long, it is January and it is, to say the least, cool in Yorkshire in January. At least the horrendous snow of the New Year had gone. Our bin man had fallen over and broken his hip whilst trying to empty bins, and that was it for three weeks, no bins emptied. No one blamed them.
A car pulled up and Chris shouted out from a rear window, "Come on, time is not waiting."
Idiot, I think he mixed up several metaphors and got them all wrong, I am a woman, I am No Man for a start off. I went to the car and opened the rear door and slid in besides Chris.
"Carry on Driver" he said as if he were Lord of the manor talking to his chauffeur. He had that way about him.
"So then," he said, "how have you been?"
"I have been here Chris, or at work, or in the pub. How have you been?"
"I have been fine, I shall reveal all this evening, but it isn't very exciting. As for me, I am healthy and fine. Do you have a feller?"
"No, not currently, in fact not recently, no one long term anyway."
"What's long term?"
"Longer than a night."
He laughed loudly and squeezed my leg, "that's my girl," he said, "if they don't cut the mustard they don't have any seconds."
Well, it was something like that. I mean I am not a nun; I like a bit of the other but I am not going to tie myself to an average bloke just to experience it. It didn't take long, and the Uber pulled over by the Five Rise Shopping centre in Bingley.
"Come on then, get out, I'll settle with the driver," Chris said.
To be fair, we could have walked here, it is only about half a mile from my house, but there we are, perhaps he had forgotten things like that during his enforced absence from God's own county.
Just down the road was Wetherspoons, I hoped that we weren't going there. I mean it's alright for a cheap meal and a cheap drink, but it is not really an evening out type of place.
He put his arm through mine and we walked on down the high street bypassing 'Spoons, I breathed a mental sigh of relief. "Let's see what's alive," he said as we wandered along looking into pubs.
The Tavern in Market Square looked okay, a few people in, some raucous laughter, but he didn't fancy that. "Perhaps later he said. We wandered a bit further and came to The Potting Shed.
"God, I haven't been here for ages," he said, "come on, let's start here, we can always move on if the atmosphere is dead."
I followed him in and it was quite busy. They had football showing on a screen at one end and there were a load of blokes swinging pints watching that and making the usual noises. It looked like Manchester City. I could never get behind them, if anyone I would follow Leeds United, but I wasn't interested enough in football to want to watch it.