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.

leans to me, finishing the movement, tilting

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

me once more, but this time, his mouth opens over mine, and he pulls me in tightly to him, holding me at the

to sea. “I wanted to do that the

long time since anyone kissed me in that way. He doesn’t just want

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

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

the stinking thing,

leaps up. “Scruffy.

and persuaded the dogs to play in the water long enough

towards the bar further along

replies, with the kind of smile that suggests that ice

as he smiles, his face transforms.

change in my pocket. “What are you

sure. What

do a bitter chocolate and sour cherry that’s to die

powerful for me.” He sniffs. “I’ll

Of course you will….

good man, but I think you’ll always choose the

not being fair to you. You want something you’re

But…. You’re nice….

Is ‘nice’

wander along the beach again, eating cornets,

he asks. “For a

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?”

a concierge in one of the office blocks in the new part of

certainly a change. Which

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

he comments. “My sister-in-law works

desk, so I’ll be seeing people all

about that

maybe I’ll