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.

bound out in a melee of joyous, barking enthusiasm, racing off ahead

under the threatening sky. I walk

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

I sprint back up the beach, racing for cover. The dogs, in a spirit of co-operation,

A few hundred yards short of the cafe, I hear the splatter of raindrops behind me, and a second or so

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 the door, heading instead for the car where, as I lift the hatch, as one, the gang jumps inside, shaking rain,

going to be wet and stinking for the drive back

violently now, I sprint once more to the beguiling warmth of the bar, fling open the door and then stand

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

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

say to the

says Ben, dropping a few coins

but still shivering. My clothes are clammy with cold,

He looks at me, brow furrowed. “Hey, are you okay?

when I left home. Didn’t think I needed

car keys jangling, returning a minute or

that on you. There’s a bathroom out at the back to

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

one of me inside. I’d not realised before how broad-shouldered

He eyes

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 to post it back to

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

my coffee,

wants a date

An actual date?

It’s been a while….

didn’t mean to offend you.” He looks