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.

let my gang bound out in a melee of joyous, barking enthusiasm,

stronger today, the sea roiling, forbidding under the threatening sky. I walk briskly,

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 shelter quickly, I’m going to be

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

second or so later, the whoosh of water hammering on to the sand, before it catches up with me, battering through

I am 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

wet and stinking

to the beguiling warmth of the

them, my numb fingers struggling with the knots. But nothing stops the steady drip of water

It’s Ben, sitting at the bar,

say

dropping a few

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

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

head. “It was bright sunshine when I

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

There’s a bathroom

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 warm and I do feel

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

return to the bar. He eyes me, mouth puckering. “Not

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

you handed it back to me, perhaps when we meet up for a

sip my coffee,

a

An actual date?

It’s been a while….

you’re not interested, that’s fine. I didn’t mean to offend you.” He looks down, then