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.

to let my gang bound out in a melee of joyous, barking enthusiasm, racing off ahead of me

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

I have walked much further from the bar than I intended. Turning, I see rain sheeting down over the sea

the only shelter is the cafe bar I left behind 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

make it. A few hundred 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 catches up with me, battering through my thin

of the beach bar, I recoil at the ‘No Dogs’ sign on the door, heading instead

going to be wet and stinking for

the beguiling warmth of the bar, fling open the door and then stand dripping on

further, and I unlace them, my

It’s Ben, sitting at the bar,

please,” I say

says Ben, dropping a

my fingers, but still shivering. My clothes are clammy

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

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

car keys jangling, returning a

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

My jeans are still sopping, but with the warm jersey, at least my

sweater is not a good fit and would easily accommodate another one of me inside. I’d not realised before how broad-shouldered Ben is, or for that matter, how much taller he

bit self-consciously, I return to the bar. He eyes me,

my wrists, trying to free my hands to pick up my coffee

it back to me, perhaps when we meet up for

my coffee,

a

An actual date?

It’s been a while….

didn’t mean to offend you.” He