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

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

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

into me once more, but this time, his mouth

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

to him. It’s a long time since anyone kissed me

the semi-rotted fish she is holding, letting it fall to the sand.

don’t want the car to smell of that on the

the stinking thing, then Scruffy joins in the melee, and chaos

up. “Scruffy.

fish, tossing it as far out into the waves as Ben’s long-armed throw can manage, and persuaded the dogs

cream?” I suggest, waving vaguely towards the bar further along the

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

face transforms.

change in my pocket. “What are

What

chocolate and sour cherry that’s to die

for me.” He sniffs. “I’ll have the

Of course you will….

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

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

But…. You’re nice….

‘nice’

the beach again, eating cornets, licking away the

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

was a pastry chef. I know it’s one of those dream jobs for a

“Something different?”

one of the office

a

know, the one that went up so quickly after the

works there.

be on their front desk, so I’ll be seeing people all the time. And the company has a good reputation for training, and especially for promoting

sis said something about that too. She’s going through their training program

maybe I’ll get