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.

in a melee of joyous, barking enthusiasm, racing

surf is much stronger today, the sea roiling, forbidding under

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

I sprint back up the beach, racing for cover. The dogs, in a spirit of

cafe, I hear the splatter of raindrops behind me, and a second or so later, the whoosh

the wind 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 where, as I lift the hatch, as

to be wet and stinking for the

of the bar, fling

boots before I go any further, and I unlace them, my numb fingers struggling with the

hot chocolate perhaps?” It’s Ben, sitting at the bar, himself

I say to

says Ben, dropping a

warming my fingers, but still shivering. My clothes are clammy

too, but I must run faster than you.” He looks at me, brow furrowed. “Hey, are you okay? You really are drenched, aren’t you?

bright sunshine when

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

that on you. There’s a bathroom

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

easily accommodate another one of me inside. I’d not realised before how broad-shouldered

return to the bar. He eyes me,

the sleeves up past my wrists, trying to free my hands to pick up my coffee mug. “I really appreciate it. Er…. do mind if I borrow it to go home

when we meet up for a meal?” He

sip my

wants a date

An actual date?

It’s been a while….

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