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

Ben by the hand, take

in a way that I have not seen him smile before, some

should

I ask. “Or a

“Wine sounds good.”

sit, instead checking over my cd’s. “Mind if I put something

See what’s there

“Red, please.”

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

Interesting choice….

wine, passing a glass to Ben. He 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.

says, and his

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

hand hovers below my breast, almost but not quite, cupping. “Kirstie?” His voice is rough, almost

say, sliding my hand over his and pressing

into my breast and his breath grows ragged.

a haze of lust as

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

Asking permission?

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

is coolish, and as the air wafts across my skin, my nipples tighten and crinkle. He fastens his mouth around

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

“Jeez….” he mutters.

his arms underneath to scoop me up, and glancing

“Bedroom?” he queries.

“Yes.” I smile.

me through, levering the door handle with an elbow, and places me on the 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

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