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.

to let my gang bound out in a melee of joyous, barking enthusiasm, racing off ahead of me to go

roiling, forbidding under

that I have walked much further from the bar than I intended. Turning, I see rain sheeting down over the sea

the 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

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, before it catches up with me, battering

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 hatch, as one, the

to be wet and stinking for the

the bar, fling open the door and then stand dripping on

my boots before I go any further, and I unlace them, my numb fingers struggling with the knots. But nothing stops the steady drip

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

say to the

me,” says Ben, dropping a few coins on

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

run faster than you.” He looks at me,

when I

car keys

There’s

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

another one of me inside. I’d not realised before

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

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 to go home in? I’m happy

when we

sip my

a date

An actual date?

It’s been a while….

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