Choosing Her Lover

The restaurant Ben chooses is beautiful. It’s not huge and not overly expensive, but the food is excellent, and he has booked us a niche where we are very private.

Soft music drifts around us, and the staff are lovely; all smiles and courtesy as they bring the food and wine before they vanish discreetly while we eat.

A couple of hours comes and then goes, drifting by in a pleasant mix of chit-chat, good food, and better wine.

As we finish the coffee, Ben says, “Can I walk you home again?”

“Of course you can.”

We stroll through the dark streets, the summer air warm and fragrant. Ben slips his fingers into mine and we stroll along, holding hands.

On the doorstep, he hovers and then, without asking, embraces me. Unlike the first time on my doorstep, he does not hold back. His kiss is deep and passionate, one hand knotting into my hair. His pupils are wide, and through his chest, his heart hammers through to mine.

Oh my God. He’s in love with me….

This can’t be right. It’s too soon….

But pussy is calling. I want a man inside me.

He breaks away from the kiss, then simply stands, holding me close, his head resting over mine. “Kirstie….”

Should I do this? Is it fair to him?

Torn as to what is right, and what right now I want, I vacillate.

“Kirstie, can I come in?”

He wants me. He really wants me….

“Yes, you can come in.”

stoops to kiss my cheek.

then, leading Ben by the hand, take him

in a way that I have not seen him smile

should

like a coffee?” I ask.

“Wine sounds good.”

I wave towards the settee, but he doesn’t sit, instead checking over my cd’s. “Mind if I put something on?”

there that you like.

“Red, please.”

a bottle of Rioja and a couple of glasses from the kitchen, returning to the lounge just in

Interesting choice….

he is very much tasting the wine simply for the form of it. After a moment or so, he puts his glass to one side, then taking my glass from me, puts that

he says, and his arms slide around me again at

spine, along the nape of my neck and into my hair. His kiss is deep, demanding almost. He smells deeply

but not quite, cupping. “Kirstie?”

hand over his

his breath grows ragged. “God, but I

a haze of lust as my core wells hot. I want this man now. I

hand under my blouse, reaching inside and upwards, then stymied by the tightness of the garment, removes the hand again, and with a very

Asking permission?

of my breasts, then cupping with one hand,

coolish, and as the air wafts across my skin, my nipples tighten and crinkle. He fastens his mouth around one, suckling gently as he

warm and moist. Ben’s hand works its way down to the hem of my skirt, slipping upwards and inwards to stroke my thighs, and I whimper as my pussy quivers. He reaches further, a finger slipping between my legs, rubbing at the crotch of my panties. As he discovers my warm wetness, he pulls out from my skirt, reaching

then up at the ceiling for

“Jeez….” he mutters.

he stoops, his arms underneath to scoop me up, and glancing around the room,

“Bedroom?” he queries.

“Yes.” I smile.

eyes, transforming his features, and it stays there as he strips off shirt, shoes and trousers. Seeing him clearly for the first time, he’s a good-looking man, well built, his muscles firm. I arch back onto the bed, ready to welcome