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.

sits, staring out to sea, not speaking. Then he

leans to me, finishing the movement, tilting his head to the side as his lips

sweet and warm and affectionate. He tastes of sunshine and fresh air, strawberries, and vanilla. His hand cupping my cheek, his touch is soft, his

me once more, but this time, his mouth

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

It’s a long time since anyone kissed

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

don’t want the car to smell of that

to roll too, competing for the stinking thing, then Scruffy joins in the melee, and

up.

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

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

good,” he replies, with the kind of smile that suggests that ice cream

his face

bar, I juggle change in my pocket. “What are you

What have they

bitter chocolate and sour cherry that’s to die

bit powerful for me.” He sniffs.

Of course you will….

man, but I think

You want something you’re never going to get from

But…. You’re nice….

Is ‘nice’

along the beach again, eating cornets, licking away the dripping

asks. “For a living, I mean? If you

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 a couple of

“Something different?”

concierge in one of the office blocks in the new

a change. Which

Building. You know, the one that went up so quickly after the old headquarters got

comments. “My sister-in-law works

so I’ll be seeing people all the time. And the company has a good reputation for training, and

his eyebrows. “Yeah, the sis said something about that too. She’s going through their training program as

maybe I’ll get to meet