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.

I open up the car to let my gang bound out in a melee of joyous, barking enthusiasm, racing off ahead of

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

fatly onto 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

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, weave themselves around my legs, forcing me to break stride,

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

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 one, the

to be wet and

now, I sprint once more to the beguiling warmth of the bar,

only manners to remove my boots before I go any further, and I unlace them, my numb fingers struggling with the knots. But nothing stops the

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

say

Ben, dropping a few coins on

hands around the cup, warming my fingers, but

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

head. “It was bright sunshine when I left home.

clean pullover in the car. Back in a jiffy….” He strides out, car keys jangling, returning a minute or so

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

position to argue. My jeans are still sopping, but with the

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

to the bar. He eyes me, mouth puckering.

very much. I owe you one.” I say, pushing 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 in? I’m happy

to me, perhaps when we meet up for a meal?” He cocks an eyebrow

my coffee,

a date with

An actual date?

It’s been a while….

you.” He looks down,