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.

up the car to let my gang bound out in a melee of joyous, barking enthusiasm, racing off ahead of me to go chase waves

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

down over the sea a mile or so

the beach, the only shelter is the cafe bar I left behind me. Calling the dogs in, I sprint back up the beach, racing for cover. The dogs, in a spirit of co-operation,

make it. A few hundred yards short of the cafe, I hear the splatter of raindrops behind me, and a second or so later, the whoosh of water hammering on to the sand, before it catches up with me, battering through my

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 one, the gang jumps inside, shaking rain, slobber and hair

to be wet and stinking for the

sprint once more to the beguiling warmth of the bar, fling open the door and then stand dripping on

my boots before I go any further, and I unlace them, my numb fingers struggling with the knots. But nothing stops the steady drip of water

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

I say to the

dropping a few coins on the

the cup, warming my fingers, but still

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

“It was bright sunshine when

strides out, car keys jangling, returning a minute or so later, his hair wet but carrying

you. There’s a bathroom out at the

odd, accepting clothes from a near stranger, but I’m in no position to argue. My jeans are

I’d not realised before how broad-shouldered Ben is, or for that matter, how

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

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 in? I’m happy to post it

when we meet up for a meal?” He cocks an eyebrow at

sip my

wants a date

An actual date?

It’s been a while….

mean to offend you.” He