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.

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

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

the sand, I realise 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

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,

second or so later, the whoosh of water hammering on to the sand, before it catches up with me, battering through my

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

going to be wet and

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

them, my numb fingers struggling with the knots. But nothing stops the steady drip of water from my

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

I say to the

me,” says Ben, dropping a few coins on

but still shivering. My clothes are clammy

you, then? It almost got me too, but I must run faster than you.” He looks at me, brow furrowed. “Hey, are you

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

in the car. Back in a jiffy….” He strides out, car keys jangling, returning a minute

There’s a bathroom

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

would easily accommodate another one of me inside. I’d not

return to the bar. He eyes me, mouth puckering. “Not exactly a fashion statement, is

my coffee mug. “I really appreciate it.

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

sip my coffee,

a date

An actual date?

It’s been a while….

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