Ninety-nine percent sure.
ployees to take care of the shop!"
"Or shops, in your case!" Lindi giggled.
"Well, since we're in your manor so to speak, I'll let you decide which is the best spot to go to." Clive said as he surveyed the sandy shore before them.
In contrast to the much larger town of Brighton further along the coast with its famously pebbly yet inexplicably popular beach, Westborough-on-sea was blessed with a beach of golden sand. Timber groynes had been installed many years ago to prevent the longshore drift of the English Channel from washing away the sand and potentially ruining the town's biggest tourist attraction.
"Over there, between the pier and the beach cafe is the best spot." Lindi said, pointing towards her favoured part of the beach.
"Well in that case lead on, fair maiden!" Clive said as he gave Lindi a little playful pat on her bottom.
A few minutes later they were rolling out their towels on the sand and stripping off their outer clothes. Lindi was surprised to see Clive had chosen to wear a pair of bright red Speedos. She would've expected him to wear beach shorts, but even though he had a slight paunch he nonetheless was able to not look too bad in them. In fact, Lindi felt she rather liked the sight of him in such closely fitting attire. As she stepped out of her own clothes to reveal her bikini for his appraising eyes, she noticed he gazed at her in near wonderment.
"Wow, you look... absolutely stunning!" He said.
Lindi felt that unmistakable feeling of pride mixed with a slight rush of eroticism that she loved so much when she showed herself off for a man. Of course, her feminist roommate from her first year at university would've scorned at the sight of her wearing something so obviously designed to appeal to the 'lustful gazes of dirty old men' as she would've undoubtedly put it. Which of course made it just another example of how the patriarchy sought to objectify and sexualise women. But far from being of the opinion of her old roommate, Lindi felt empowered by wearing something so racy - it was her right as a woman to flaunt her figure, something her old roommate simply couldn't get her blinkered radical-feminist head around. How glad she was to be able to spend the rest of her university years away from her and to share a flat with Peter instead!
She applied a liberal amount of sunscreen to her body, asking Clive to put some on her back, and then dug out the book she was reading from her bag. It was a time-travelling love story, rather erotic in parts but very tastefully done, about a woman who encounters a male sex-slave from some dystopian female-dominated future, and who subsequently falls in love with the strange young man. Things get complicated however, when a second young male sex-slave somehow gets catapulted back from the future. It wasn't her usual kind of reading material - the sci-fi element would normally have put her off - but her friend at work had raved about it and so Lindi decided to give it the benefit of the doubt. In no time at all she had been drawn into the strange tale of the sassy American teacher and the young man she rescued from sexual servitude. It had become a real page-turner and something the literary reviewer of a newspaper's Sunday supplement would euphemistically call 'un-putdownable'.
"What's that you're reading?" Clive asked as he laid down on his front beside Lindi.
"Oh, this?" She replied, briefly showing him the cover that depicted a confidently dressed woman in a warm embrace with a young man in a black shirt and kilt with a red collar around his neck, "It's called 'Escaping Alpha', Miriam, one of the science teachers at work recommended it."
She gave him a brief outline of the plot, about how the male sex-slave came to be catapulted back in time to 21st century Tennessee and into the arms of a wonderfully caring woman who takes him under her wing and with whom he later discovers what love is.
"Sounds interesting." Clive remarked, "I didn't have you down as a sci-fi fan."
"I'm not - but this story ha