|My Trailstar in Glen Tilt in her more youthful days|
If you read the masterly blog of Alan Sloman , a veteran TGO Challenger, then you will know that he has got himself a new mistress called Trinnie. It was a lightening romance. Wanda, his old flame, is no longer on the scene. I am too polite to ask him why. He had a brief flirtation this time last year with one of Martin Rye's cast offs. But the last few weeks has seen him first court, then walk out with, and finally fall head over heels for Trinnie. Trinnie is a dark skinned, American beauty who goes under the surname of Trailstar. She is tall, elegant and shapely, although she does take up quite a lot of space, and as a result she makes a real statement wherever she goes. Alan knows how to show an American girl who has come to live this side of the pond a good time, and has already taken her to several wonders of the United Kingdom – Windsor Great Park, Scotland and the Lake District.
Alan took Trinnie with him on last weekend’s three day Pre-Walk Daunder in the Lakes. I was kindly invited along, and hope to give my version of events on this blog shortly. This meant that I could see Trinnie in the flesh rather than just in photos. I am ashamed to admit that over the course of three days I rather fell for her.
|Trinnie stands tall and proud on the right here as Alan enters her on his knees whilst Aktos and Comps flap and billow|
I know that I have been highly critical of the Trailstar family in the past, having had a brief fling with one of Trinnie’s older sisters. I complained regularly to all who would listen that she was just not the right size for a tall chap such as me. She didn’t keep my feet warm and dry at night. Then I bought her a slinky new handmade undergarment, the Oookstar, but still she made me sleep with my knees slightly bent, and I soon relegated her to the back bedroom where I keep stuff I have little use for. She was replaced with a dumpier, wider, more practical model, also American, a daughter of Henry Shires of Scarptent.
Alan’s infatuation and frequent singing of Trinnie’s charms, however, has made me think of these girls in a new way. The Daunder saw much wind and a fair amount of rain. I needed to cook inside my porch for three days. This is, of course, neither fun nor particularly safe, and quite sordid when you spill half of a semi-rehydrated meal in the cramped space. Alan and Trinnie, meanwhile, were holding wild parties, Trinnie entertaining as many as five men and one woman on the Saturday evening. Rather too intimate? Possibly, but how many others could do that? I silently began to covet Alan’s new girl. Which is less sinful, I might add, than coveting my neighbour's ass.
So I have sheepishly been into the back bedroom. Trinnie’s elder sister has been taken out. She has been on the scales again, and has reminded me how much more sylph like she is than the dumpy Scarp. She is at this moment enjoying the evening sunshine out in the back garden. I lay next to her this afternoon, and have tried to convince myself that I am not too tall for a comfortable night with her. True, her skin is somewhat grey and wrinkly after being kept inside so long, and she is looking slightly saggy today, but that is my fault not hers. With a bit of practice I am sure I can help her get that elegant, carefree look of old. And so I gaze at her and contemplate, and think of what might be….
|A coy view of her rear......|
|....and now a brazen full frontal|