Both men’s stifled gasps came more frequently, insistently. “Look, honey, these couples can’t wait,” came a muted feminine voice from the othe... sided of the plant. “Oh, wow!” laughed her companion. I glanced aside, dimly perceiving a man and woman, watching us, quietly laughing, arms around each other’s waists. “Don’t stop on our account,” he whispered. “Have fun.” Mark, nearing his climax, gave voice. “Oh, oh, yeah!” Ben, too, became more vocal. Mark began a series of staccato gasps timed with. That’s all I see on every guy’s face when we’re later invited to a sand sculpted beach bonfire by some fellow surfers we met. She’s dried off and redressed in her tight cotton clothes, dancing to music from a large, outdated boombox with the rest of the females. Every bit of her skin is golden tanned bringing out the shocking bright blue of her eyes, her brown hair the darkest chocolate. She looks to me and finds me watching her, then smiles, rolling her hips with purpose now. I shamelessly. More

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