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

sea roiling, forbidding under

raindrops 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

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

and a second or so later, the whoosh of water hammering on

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 gang

wet

to the beguiling warmth of the bar, fling

seems 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

say to

says Ben, dropping a few coins on

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

looks at me, brow furrowed. “Hey, are you

my head. “It was bright sunshine when I left

strides out, car keys jangling, returning a minute or so later,

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

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 warm and

one of me inside. I’d not realised before how broad-shouldered Ben is, or for that matter, how much taller

bar. He eyes me,

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

it back to me, perhaps when we meet up

my coffee,

wants a date

An actual date?

It’s been a while….

that’s fine. I didn’t mean to offend you.”