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.

to let my gang bound out in a melee

much stronger today, the sea roiling, forbidding under the threatening sky. I walk briskly, warming myself against

the sand, I realise that I have walked much further from the bar than I intended. Turning, I see rain sheeting down over the sea a mile or so out, a grey haze that

is the cafe bar I left behind me. Calling the dogs in, I sprint back up the beach, racing for cover.

A few hundred yards short of the cafe, I hear the splatter of raindrops behind me, and a second or so later,

picking up, the chill bites through me. Dashing for the warmth of the beach bar, I recoil at the ‘No Dogs’ sign on the door, heading instead for the car

going to be wet and stinking for the drive back

to the beguiling warmth of the bar,

my boots before I go any further, and I unlace them, my

hot chocolate perhaps?” It’s Ben, sitting

I say

a few coins on

my fingers, but still shivering. My clothes are clammy with cold, clinging wetly to

me, brow furrowed. “Hey, are you okay? You really are drenched, aren’t you?

shake my head. “It was bright sunshine when I left home. Didn’t think I needed anything

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

it at me, “Get that on you. There’s

near stranger, but I’m in no position to argue. My jeans are still sopping, but with the warm jersey, at least my top half is warm

inside. I’d not realised before how broad-shouldered Ben is, or

bit self-consciously, I return to the bar. He eyes me, mouth puckering. “Not exactly a

pushing the sleeves up past my wrists, trying to free my hands to pick up my coffee mug. “I really appreciate it.

to me, perhaps when we

my coffee,

wants a

An actual date?

It’s been a while….

you.” He looks down, then away, out of the window at the lashing