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 ahead of

sea roiling, forbidding under the

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, I’m going to be

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

and a second or so later, the whoosh of water hammering on to the sand, before it catches up with me, battering through my thin tee-shirt

at the ‘No Dogs’ sign on the door, heading instead for the car where, as I lift the hatch, as one, the

to be wet and stinking for the

the beguiling warmth of the bar, fling open the door and then stand

to remove my boots before I go any further, and I unlace them, my numb fingers struggling with the knots. But

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

say to the

a few

cup, warming my fingers, but still shivering.

too, 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

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

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

on you. There’s

argue. My jeans are still sopping, but with the warm

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

return to the bar. He eyes me, mouth puckering. “Not exactly

one.” I say, pushing the sleeves up past my wrists, trying to free my hands to pick up my coffee mug. “I really appreciate it. Er…. do mind if I borrow it

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

sip my

a date with

An actual date?

It’s been a while….

if you’re not interested, that’s fine. I didn’t mean to offend you.”