Choosing Her Lover

*****

‘An Illusion of Happiness’

A Tale of BDSM Erotic Romance

And the Meeting of Strangers

Part Two

An Illusion of Happiness

As I stroll across the sands, a familiar figure jogs towards me, a small dog trotting alongside; a terrier that looks as though it has been assembled from a junkyard of other dogs.

As the runner approaches, he angles my way. Drawing close, he pulls to a stop, huffing.

“Hi, Kirstie,” he says, “I was hoping I’d run into you. How are you?”

His face is severe. Ben is not an unhandsome man, but his natural expression is unsmiling, which detracts from his looks, making him appear austere, perhaps even puritanical.

And is that just an appearance….? Or is that really the man?

“Hi, Ben. I’m good. You?”

“Yeah, I’m great. Mind if we join you for a bit?”

“We?”

He nods down toward his dog. “Scruffy wants to make friends….”

True enough, Scruffy is making moves on my Meg, who rumbling low, curls up a lip, unimpressed by this rag-tag terrier.

“…. and he’s not the only one.”

“I’d love you and Scruffy to join us. I was about to have some coffee actually.” I hold up my flask. “Want a cup?”

“Great idea.”

Sitting on the dune, close to each other, we sip coffee. The wind blowing into our faces sends my hair streaming over my shoulders. It feels very comfortable, very natural.

to sea, not speaking. Then he turns to me. “Can I kiss

him. He leans to me, finishing the movement, tilting his head

He tastes of sunshine and fresh air, strawberries, and vanilla. His hand cupping my cheek, his touch is soft, his mouth pressed to mine

for a moment, holding my eyes, then he leans into me once more, but this time, his mouth opens over mine, and he pulls me in tightly to him, holding me at the waist, drawing me

wanted to do that the other night, but I thought maybe I’d be

to say to him. It’s a long time since anyone kissed me in that way. He doesn’t just want a

put that down….” Emma drops the semi-rotted fish she is holding, letting it fall to the sand. Archie immediately seizes the initiative and starts rolling

up. God knows I don’t want the car to smell of

competing for the stinking thing,

up. “Scruffy.

have retrieved the fish, tossing it as far out into the waves as Ben’s long-armed throw can manage, and persuaded the dogs to play in the water long enough to get rid

bar further along the beach. “My treat. I owe

replies, with the kind of smile that suggests that ice cream is just an

face transforms. He becomes an

I juggle change in my pocket. “What are you

not sure. What have they

and sour cherry that’s

powerful for me.” He sniffs. “I’ll

Of course you will….

but I think you’ll always choose

to you. You want something you’re never going to get from

But…. You’re nice….

‘nice’ what

the beach again, eating cornets, licking away

what is it you do?” he asks. “For a living,

at all. I was a pastry chef. I know it’s one of those dream jobs for a lot of people, but I hated it. I’m starting a new job in

“Something different?”

taken on as a concierge in one of the office blocks in

certainly a change. Which

went

he comments. “My sister-in-law works

be on their front desk, so I’ll be seeing

the sis said something about that too. She’s going

maybe I’ll get