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.

let my gang bound out in a melee of

forbidding under the threatening sky. I walk briskly, warming

down over the sea a mile or so out, a grey haze that obliterates the view. The downpour is

I sprint back up the beach, racing for cover. The dogs, in a spirit of co-operation, weave

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

at the ‘No Dogs’ sign on the door, heading instead for the car where, as I lift the hatch, as one, the gang jumps inside, shaking rain, slobber and

car’s going to be wet and stinking for the

the beguiling warmth of the

only manners to remove my boots before I go any further, and I unlace them, my numb fingers struggling with the knots. But nothing stops the steady drip of water

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

I say to

a few

the cup, warming my fingers, but still shivering. My clothes

me 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

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

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

at me, “Get that on you. There’s a

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

inside. I’d not

He eyes me, mouth puckering. “Not exactly a fashion statement,

very much. I owe you one.” I say, pushing the sleeves up past my wrists, trying to free my hands to pick up my coffee mug. “I really

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

my

wants a

An actual date?

It’s been a while….

fine. I didn’t mean to offend you.” He looks down, then away, out