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

roiling, forbidding under

splat 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 grey haze that obliterates the view. The downpour is heading my way fast. If I don’t get to

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

behind me, and a second or so

drenched, and 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 one,

to be wet and

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

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

hot chocolate perhaps?” It’s Ben, sitting

say

a few coins on

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

I must run faster than you.” He looks at me, brow furrowed. “Hey, are you okay? You really are

head. “It was bright sunshine when I left home. Didn’t think I

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

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

feels a bit odd, accepting clothes from 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

not realised before how broad-shouldered Ben is, or for that matter, how much taller he is than

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

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

it back to me, perhaps when we

my

wants a

An actual date?

It’s been a while….

interested, that’s fine. I didn’t mean to offend you.” He looks down, then away, out of the window at the lashing