Choosing Her Lover

Chapter 7

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.”

to kiss my cheek. “Thank

then, leading Ben by

“Nice,” he comments. He is smiling, in a way that I have not seen him smile before, some of his grimness washed away by

really should

like a coffee?” I ask. “Or a glass

“Wine sounds good.”

yourself comfortable.” I wave towards the settee, but he doesn’t sit, instead checking over my

See what’s there that you

“Red, please.”

glasses from the kitchen, returning to the lounge just in

Interesting choice….

don’t leave mine, and I feel that 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

says, and his arms slide around me again at

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

but not quite, cupping. “Kirstie?” His

hand over his and pressing it

squeeze into my breast and his breath grows

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

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

Asking permission?

starts to unbutton my blouse. Bending close, he kisses the rounded tops of

wafts across my skin, my nipples tighten and crinkle. He fastens his mouth around one, suckling gently as he works the other between thumb and forefinger,

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,

stands back, looking away, then up at the ceiling for a moment, breathing heavily, his face glistening

“Jeez….” he mutters.

up, and glancing

“Bedroom?” he queries.

“Yes.” I smile.

bed. And now, he smiles properly. It’s a big smile, lighting up his face and 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

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