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

to me, finishing the movement, tilting his head to

sunshine and fresh air, strawberries, and vanilla. His hand cupping my cheek, his

moment, holding my eyes, then he leans into me once more, but this time, his mouth

wanted to do that the other night, but

kissed me in that way. He doesn’t just

away. “Emma! Will you put that down….” Emma drops the semi-rotted fish she is holding, letting it fall to the sand. Archie immediately seizes the

the car to smell of that on the way

start to roll too, competing for the stinking thing, then Scruffy

up.

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 of the worst of the smell, we are both hot, sweaty and

ice cream?” I suggest, waving vaguely towards the bar further along the beach. “My

kind of smile that suggests that ice cream is just an excuse for hanging around

his face transforms.

juggle change in

sure. What

chocolate and sour cherry

powerful for me.” He sniffs.

Of course you will….

I think

I’m not being fair to you. You want something

But…. You’re nice….

‘nice’

the beach again, eating

you do?” he asks. “For a living, I mean? If you don’t mind me

I know it’s one of those dream jobs for a lot of people, but I hated it.

“Something different?”

in one

certainly a change.

You know, the one that went up so quickly

he comments. “My sister-in-law works there.

front desk, so I’ll be seeing

about that too. She’s going through their

I’ll