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.

car to let my gang bound out in a melee of joyous, barking enthusiasm, racing off ahead of me to go chase waves and threaten

today, the sea roiling, forbidding under the threatening sky. I walk briskly, warming myself against

the bar than I intended. Turning, I see rain sheeting down over the sea a mile or so out, a grey

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

second or so later,

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, the gang jumps inside, shaking rain, slobber and

to be wet and stinking

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

any further, and I unlace them, my numb fingers struggling with the knots. But nothing stops the steady drip of water from my sodden

a familiar voice. “Or hot chocolate perhaps?” It’s Ben, sitting at the bar, himself nursing a

please,” I say

Ben, dropping a

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

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

my head. “It was bright sunshine when I

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

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

bit odd, accepting clothes from a near stranger, but I’m in no position to argue. My jeans are

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

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

very much. 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

back to me, perhaps when we meet up for a meal?”

sip my

wants a

An actual date?

It’s been a while….

fine. I didn’t mean to offend you.” He looks