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

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

sheeting down over the sea a mile or

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

behind me, and a second or so later, the whoosh of water

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 jumps

be wet and stinking for the drive

of the bar, fling open the door and then stand

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

perhaps?” It’s Ben, sitting at the bar, himself nursing a steaming

please,” I say

dropping a few

cup, warming my fingers, but still shivering. My clothes are clammy with cold, clinging wetly to

too, but I must run faster than you.” He looks at me, brow furrowed. “Hey, are you

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

pullover in the car. Back in a jiffy….” He strides out, car keys jangling, returning a minute or so later, his hair wet but

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

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

one of me inside. I’d not realised before

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

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

that you handed it back to me, perhaps when we meet up for a meal?” He

sip my

a

An actual date?

It’s been a while….

you.” He looks down, then away, out of the window at the