“I wanna wake up with the rain– Nora Jones
falling on a tin roof
while I’m safe there in your arms
so all I ask is for you
to come away with me in the night.”
I don’t know if it was good or bad timing when Camilla and I had our threesome chat because just a few days later I had to go away to Singleton army base as a medic to support a Cadet Camp. I wasn’t sure whether my sudden absence would be cause for Camilla to start having second thoughts.
The cadets – school soldiers aged 16-17 – weren’t going to be doing anything too strenuous or dangerous but you’d be amazed at how often people get injured just walking or running around once they put a uniform on. I’d agreed to support the camp six months earlier and thinking that it would a good way to get paid and to do some extra study in the lead up to my exams in November. Jeremy hadn’t been on the scene then so now I regretted my earlier decision. I would only miss one or two visits with him but each one was so precious. I even felt the loss when I didn’t see him for a couple of days.
I got by on the camp with study and a letter that Jeremy had sent me but after a week I was going a little stir crazy with only a couple of doctors and 500 teenagers for company. As a tourist destination the Infantry Centre at Singleton also left a lot to be desired, at the least the part I got to see. There are still plenty WWII-built accommodation and shower blocks within the army system and that is where they tended to stick anyone on a camp who was not a regular soldier. Wooden sheds and corrugated iron clad shower blocks are as basic as you could imagine but it was still marginally better than sleeping in the dirt. Funny how that in the middle of some of the country’s greatest wine and agricultural country the army had managed to build a complete shit hole.
But when I reached my lowest ebb on day nine Jeremy’s second letter arrived.
Alison left for Singleton a week after Bondi so I didn’t get to see her for about 20 straight days. She was able to call me from the base payphone but, unless she could find a time when she could be alone then, we couldn’t do much more than make small talk and update each other on our days.
As much as she wanted me too, I couldn’t tie her down and fuck her, like she’d asked in her last letter, over the land line. I admit that I was still considering how to do that and not feel creepy about it. I was pretty sure that I didn’t feel comfortable, at that stage, with that line of activity escalating much beyond simple restraint.
I was however beginning to get on board with the idea of control and direction. We’d already demonstrated that we were both into that at Bondi and her flat with our role playing. But it didn’t hurt to test the waters again by writing a fantasy piece for Alison to read while she was away on camp and see what she thought of it:
How to make the perfect gin martini
(Makes two drinks)
- Cracked ice
- 5 Ounces of Tanqueray 10 dry gin
- 1 Ounce of Noilly Prat dry vermouth
- 6 Sicilian olives for garnish
- 1 Little black cocktail dress
- 1 Pair black stockings
- 1 Black or white tuxedo, depending on the season
- 1 Copy of Come Away with Me by Nora Jones
Dressed in your little black dress and stockings move to the bar whilst your gentleman turns on the music. Direct your gentleman to sit in a comfortable chesterfield chair, positioned to view you mixing. In a mixing glass or cocktail shaker filled with ice, combine gin and vermouth. Stir well, then strain into two martini glasses. Garnish with olives.
Hand the glass to your gentleman, ensuring that whilst doing so you brush his hand with your fingers. Repose yourself opposite and drink slowly. When track eight: Lonestar begins, pause the conversation for 10 seconds and make full eye contact. Finish your drink in one sip then stand up and remove your dress. Cross slowly to your gentleman and sit on his lap facing him . Sip once from his glass and place it back down. Remove his bow tie.