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 near a beach bar, I open up the car to let my gang bound out in a melee of joyous, barking enthusiasm, racing off ahead of me to go chase

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

from the 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

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

or so later, the whoosh of water hammering on to the

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,

to be wet

the beguiling warmth of the bar,

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

It’s Ben, sitting at the

say to

a few coins on the

the cup, warming my fingers, but still shivering. My clothes are

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

when I left home. Didn’t think

in a jiffy….” He strides out, car keys jangling, returning a minute or so later, his

on you. There’s a bathroom out at

a 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 and I do feel

is not a good fit and would easily accommodate another one of me inside. I’d not realised before how broad-shouldered Ben is, or for that matter,

bar. He eyes me, mouth puckering. “Not exactly a fashion statement, is

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

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

my coffee,

wants a date with

An actual date?

It’s been a while….

mean to offend you.” He