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.

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 waves and

under the threatening sky. I walk

the sea a mile or so out, a grey haze

I left behind me. Calling the dogs in, I sprint back up the beach, racing for cover. The dogs, in a

yards short of the cafe, I hear the splatter of raindrops behind me, and a second or so later, the whoosh of water hammering on to the sand, before it

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

going to be wet

I sprint once more to the beguiling warmth of the

I unlace them, my numb fingers struggling

“Or hot chocolate perhaps?” It’s Ben, sitting at the bar, himself

please,” I say to

says Ben, dropping a few coins

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

me too, but I must run faster than you.” He looks at me, brow furrowed. “Hey, are you okay? You really are drenched, aren’t you?

when I left

He strides out, car keys

it at me, “Get that on you. There’s

but I’m in no position to argue. My jeans are still sopping, but with the warm jersey, at least

me inside. I’d not realised before how broad-shouldered Ben is,

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

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

perhaps when we meet up for a meal?” He cocks an eyebrow

my coffee,

wants a date

An actual date?

It’s been a while….

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