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.

then, leading Ben by the hand, take

I have not seen him smile before, some of his grimness

should

like a coffee?” I

“Wine sounds good.”

but he doesn’t sit, instead

what’s there

“Red, please.”

bottle of Rioja and a couple of glasses from the kitchen, returning to the lounge just in time to hear K D Lang’s ‘Constant Craving’

Interesting choice….

eyes don’t leave mine, and I feel that he is very much tasting the wine simply for the form of it.

and his arms slide around me again

is not holding back. His palms 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,

say, sliding my hand over his

his breath grows

alight. My reservations over the wisdom of what I am doing, dissolve into a haze of lust as my core wells hot. I want this man

his hand under my blouse, reaching inside and upwards, then stymied by the tightness of the garment,

Asking permission?

tops of my breasts, then cupping with

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

thighs, and I whimper as my pussy quivers. He reaches further, a finger slipping between

looking away, then up at the ceiling for a moment,

“Jeez….” he mutters.

underneath to scoop me up, and glancing around the room, nods

“Bedroom?” he queries.

“Yes.” I smile.

transforming his features, and it stays

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