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.

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

forbidding under the threatening

that I have 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

the flat expanse of 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. The

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,

moments I 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

going to be wet and stinking for

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

manners to remove my boots before I go any further, and I unlace them, my numb fingers struggling

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

please,” I say to

a

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

caught you, then? It almost got me too, but 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 left home. Didn’t think I needed anything

jiffy….” He strides out, car keys jangling, returning a minute or so later,

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

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

I’d not realised before how broad-shouldered Ben is, or for that matter, how much taller he is than

eyes

up my coffee mug. “I really appreciate it. Er…. do

you handed it back to me, perhaps when we meet up for a

my coffee,

wants a date

An actual date?

It’s been a while….

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