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.

out to sea, not speaking. Then he turns to me.

reply, simply swaying in towards him. He leans to me, finishing the

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

more, but this time, his mouth opens over mine,

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

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

excuse to break away. “Emma! Will you put that down….” Emma drops the semi-rotted fish she is holding, letting it

knows I don’t want the car to smell of that on the way home. “Archie.

stinking thing, then Scruffy joins in the

leaps up.

By the time we 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

vaguely towards the bar further along the beach. “My treat.

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

he smiles, his face transforms.

I juggle change in my pocket. “What

What have

bitter chocolate and sour cherry

bit powerful for me.” He sniffs. “I’ll have

Of course you will….

man, but I think you’ll always choose

I’m not being fair to you. You want something you’re never going to get

But…. You’re nice….

Is ‘nice’

eating cornets, licking away

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

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

“Something different?”

concierge in one of the office blocks

a change.

Haswell Building. You know, the one that went up so quickly after the

comments. “My sister-in-law works there. What made you pick that

thing I enjoy doing. I’ll be on their front desk, so I’ll be seeing people all the time. And the

sis said something about that too.

I’ll