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.”

kiss my cheek. “Thank

door and then, leading Ben by the hand, take him upstairs

not seen him smile before, some of his grimness washed away by the curve

really should

like a coffee?” I

“Wine sounds good.”

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

what’s there that you like.

“Red, please.”

kitchen, returning to the lounge just in time to hear K D Lang’s ‘Constant Craving’

Interesting choice….

sips it politely, but his eyes 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,

here for wine,” he says, and his arms slide

of my neck and into my hair. His kiss is deep, demanding almost.

not quite, cupping. “Kirstie?”

my hand over his and pressing it against

squeeze into my breast and his breath

of his desire is setting me alight. My reservations over the wisdom of what I am doing, dissolve into a haze of lust as my core wells hot.

upwards, then stymied by the tightness of the garment, removes the hand again, and with a very brief glance into

Asking permission?

of my breasts, then cupping with one hand, he unclips my bra

coolish, and as the air 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, rolling

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

away, then up at the ceiling for a moment, breathing heavily, his face glistening with

“Jeez….” he mutters.

his arms underneath to scoop me up, and

“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

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