Choosing Her Lover

We lie together quietly, he beside me, hands behind his head on the pillow, staring up at the ceiling “Wow! That was quite a ride, Kirstie. Thank you.”

“Thank you. I enjoyed it too.”

“When you asked me to manhandle you, I didn’t expect to enjoy it as much as I did.”

“You’ve not done that before?”

“No, I haven’t. I’m more accustomed to women who want flowers and romantic dinners.” He props himself up on one elbow, looking down at me. “You’re a bit of a contradiction you know.”

“How do you mean?”

“You tell me that you want control of your life, that you want to be in charge, but in the bedroom, you enjoy being…. I don’t think mauled is too strong a word.”

Heat blushes up my face and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t be embarrassed. If that’s what gives you your kicks, I’m happy to help….” He hesitates. “Is that why some of your previous…. partners…. didn’t work out? They weren’t comfortable delivering what works for you?”

“Some of them, certainly, yes.”

“You want to meet up again?”

“I’d love to.”

“Good.” He looks pleased, really pleased. “I’m leaving in the morning for this trip, but I’ll be back in the area next weekend if you’d like….”

“Suits me.”

“Great. I’ll see you in a few days then. And next time, I’ll know what to expect. I’ll come prepared.”

*****

The day is much darker than on my last visit to the beach, overcast and with the breeze gusting cold. Rain threatens, and I decide not to walk too far from shelter.

let my gang bound out in a melee of joyous, barking

stronger today, the sea roiling, forbidding under the threatening sky. I walk briskly,

bar than I intended. Turning, I see rain sheeting down over the sea a mile or so out, a grey haze that obliterates the view. The downpour is heading my way fast. If I don’t get to

sprint back up the beach, racing for cover.

and a second or so later, the whoosh of water hammering on to the sand, before it catches up with me, battering through my

I recoil at the ‘No Dogs’ sign on the door, heading

going to be wet and stinking for the drive

beguiling warmth of the bar, fling open the door and then stand dripping on

I unlace them, my numb fingers struggling with the knots. But nothing stops the steady drip

a familiar voice. “Or hot chocolate perhaps?” It’s Ben, sitting at the

I say to the

me,” says Ben, dropping a few coins on

my hands around the cup, warming my fingers, but still shivering. My clothes are clammy with cold, clinging wetly to

I must run faster than you.” He looks at me, brow

bright sunshine when I left home. Didn’t think I needed anything

jiffy….” He strides out, car keys jangling, returning

at me, “Get that on you. There’s a bathroom out at the

no position to argue. My jeans are still sopping, but with the warm jersey, at least my top half is warm and I do

another one of me inside. I’d not realised before how broad-shouldered Ben is, or for that matter, how much taller he is

return to the bar. He eyes

the sleeves up past my wrists, trying to free my hands to pick up my coffee mug.

it back to me, perhaps when we meet up for a meal?”

sip my

wants a date

An actual date?

It’s been a while….

didn’t mean to offend you.” He looks down, then away, out of the window at the lashing