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.”

stoops to kiss my cheek. “Thank

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

smiling, in a way that I have not seen him smile before, some of his grimness washed away by

really should smile

I ask. “Or a glass

“Wine sounds good.”

doesn’t sit, instead checking over my cd’s. “Mind if I

what’s there

“Red, please.”

from the kitchen, returning to the lounge just in time to

Interesting choice….

politely, but his eyes don’t leave mine, and I feel that he is very much tasting the wine simply

says, and his arms slide around me again at waist and

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

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

my hand over his and pressing

fingers squeeze into my breast and his breath grows ragged.

is setting me alight. My reservations over the wisdom of what I am doing, dissolve into a haze of

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

Asking permission?

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

and crinkle. He fastens his mouth around one, suckling gently as he works the other between thumb and forefinger,

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

the ceiling for a

“Jeez….” he mutters.

arms underneath to scoop me up,

“Bedroom?” he queries.

“Yes.” I smile.

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

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