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.

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

sea roiling, forbidding under the threatening

I see rain sheeting down over the sea a mile or so out, a grey haze that obliterates

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 break stride, slowing

raindrops behind me, and a second or so later, the whoosh of water hammering on to the sand, before it catches up with me,

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

car’s going to be wet and stinking

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

and I unlace them, my numb fingers

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

say to the

me,” says Ben, dropping a few coins

fingers, but still shivering. My clothes are clammy

me, brow furrowed. “Hey, are you okay? You really are drenched, aren’t you? Don’t you have any other clothes

sunshine when I left home. Didn’t think I needed

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

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

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

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

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

pushing the sleeves up past my wrists, trying to free my hands to pick up my coffee mug. “I really

we meet up for a meal?” He cocks

sip my

a date with

An actual date?

It’s been a while….

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