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.

up near a beach bar, I open up the car to let my gang bound out in a melee of joyous, barking enthusiasm, racing

under the threatening sky. I walk briskly, warming myself against

walked much further from the bar than I intended. Turning, I see rain sheeting down over the sea a mile or so out, a grey haze that obliterates the view. The downpour is heading my way fast. If I don’t get to shelter quickly,

the beach, the only shelter is the cafe bar I left behind me. Calling the dogs in, I sprint back up the beach, racing for cover.

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

the wind picking up, the chill bites through me. Dashing for the warmth of the beach bar, I recoil at the ‘No Dogs’ sign

wet and stinking for the drive

the beguiling warmth of the bar,

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

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

say to the

Ben, dropping a few coins on

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

but I must run faster than you.” He looks at me, brow furrowed. “Hey, are you okay? You really are drenched, aren’t you? Don’t you have any other clothes with

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

He strides out, car keys jangling, returning a minute or so later, his hair wet

on you. There’s a bathroom out at the

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

easily accommodate another one of me inside. I’d not realised before how broad-shouldered Ben is, or for

eyes me, mouth puckering. “Not exactly a fashion

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 happy to post it back

it back to me, perhaps when we meet up for

sip my coffee,

wants a date

An actual date?

It’s been a while….

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