Chapter Eight

Rose

I stare out the window of the villa like I’m not allowed to go outside anymore. I know the beach is out there, and all that dirty sex... They’ve probably got sand in all kinds of holes. I give my head a tiny shake and pace. At first, I don’t even realize it but then it dawns on me: I’m waiting for Stuart to return from visiting with his friend. I’m afraid to go outside without him.

I do my mask and a gauzy cardigan, something which might tell passerby that I’m off-limits, and head out onto the beach. I’m not going to be scared of people having sex. I’m not going to be literally trapped in my own comfort zone and house.

The beach isn’t some orgy, for the most part. If you look for it, you can find it. But it isn’t like a mosh pit of naked people or anything, and I’m almost disheartened by how comfortable I feel as I cross the beach. Maybe it was all in my head. Was it me? Was all my anxiety and my reaction to that masturbating man just me?

Up ahead, playing in the surf, I see a naked woman with no mask on. I think I might recognize her. The thick auburn hair looks thinner and darker because it’s soaked but I recognize the smile and the natural confidence, not to mention those killer curves.

It’s Cheryl, the same woman who delivered my invitation and all but convinced me to come here. I consider warning her about the dangers of skinny-dipping in the ocean, which is filled with bacteria, but bite my tongue as I approach. No one wants to hang out with that person.

“Cheryl!” I call, waving to her.

She comes frolicking from the waves like a wild horse, completely unaware of how her tits bounce. They’re even bigger than they looked when she was dressed.

“Hey,” she returns, smiling in welcome at me. “It’s... Rose, right?”

“That’s me,” I confirm. “I didn’t know you were going to be here.”

“Are you kidding?” Cheryl gives an amused guffaw. “It’s Christmas! I couldn’t miss it. I love it here.”

“Really?”

Cheryl tilts her head at me and examines me with new interest, perhaps realizing something. “You don’t?”

“It’s just so sexual.”

Cheryl throws back her head and laughs so loudly at me, I look over my shoulder to see if anyone is staring or even laughing with her. Luckily for me, they’re all too busy having sex to notice the two girls talking at the shoreline, even if one of them is naked with huge tits.

“Do you wanna take a walk?” Cheryl asks, already beginning her stroll on the wet sand. I admire her beauty as she moves. No tan lines on this one. She must be footloose and fancy free. I can only imagine how it might feel to sunbathe nude.

“Is ‘taking a walk’ sexy code for anything?”

“Oh, my god, you’re too much.” Cheryl stops, shakes her head, and waves me forward. “Come on, girl.”

We walk for a few more yards.

“You’re not having fun here, I guess?” Cheryl asks brightly.

“Yeah,” I answer, trying to match her tone. “Well, no,” I amend. I think about it some more. “I don’t know. It’s strange.”

“First years always say that,” Cheryl agrees. “It is strange, compared to whatever city you’re from. Whatever real life you have. This is a vacation, babe. You’re not supposed to do what you would normally do, or else you’d probably be at work right now.”

“It’s so kinky, and I don’t know how I feel about it, you know?”

“All you’ve done is have sex with one man who you adore, right? And he requested you. Just you. So you know he wants you, too.”

“Yeah, but... we didn’t do it the right way.”

Cheryl stops dead in her tracks and twists to face me, folding her arms over her chest. “All right, let’s have it,” she says. “What’s the right way?”

“He should have... you know.”

“Bought you a milkshake and given you his school pin?”

“No!” Heat throngs up into my cheeks. “But something. We should’ve dated first, at least.”

“Would you have waited to have sex until marriage, then? If he’d taken you to dinner and a movie every weekend for, I don’t know, two years?”

I imagine how it feels to touch Stuart’s body, how it feels when his tongue invades my mouth. I think about how fast his fingers find my button, how my knees go weak. How even being in the same room with him would drench my panties and drive me to masturbate.

“There’s no way we would have waited,” I say, and a huge burden evaporates from my chest. It’s not me. It’s not the island. It’s just... us. We’re uncontrollable. He’s my personal weakness.

“There you go, then,” Cheryl says. “Stop beating yourself up. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

I take a deep breath and glance in the direction of Stuart’s villa. I should calm down. I even drove him off with my anxiety attack.

“I wish I knew what was going to happen next... I feel so stupid.” I laugh breathlessly and turn back to face Cheryl. “I just didn’t want to give up my virginity to someone who was not my husband. Or at least my fiancé.”

“Well, that is on you,” Cheryl tells me. I guess all her advice isn’t designed to necessarily make me feel better. “But I can say that, as far as loyalty and trust go, girl, marriage is overrated, just like dating. Invest in people. They’re the ones who aren’t overrated. But that little certificate is a piece of paper. People walk all over it.”

“Didn’t you say you married someone from this island?”

Cheryl sticks out her hand, and I see the tan line of a wedding ring. “Twelve years,” she boasts, though I find it hard to believe she’s even a day over thirty. “And we had a lot of sex before we got married. I told you, babe. I met him here.”

That makes me feel a little better.

I purse my lips and then I launch into my next line of questioning. “And were you weird about sex? When you first lost it?”

“Oh, yeah,” Cheryl answers. “I didn’t know what I was doing.” She smiles over at me and squeezes my shoulder. “But there isn’t too much to learn, especially if you’re vanilla.”

I might not be vanilla. She doesn’t know. I’m here, aren’t I? Would I be here if I was “vanilla”?

“It comes naturally, because we’ve been doing it for years,” Cheryl says, still tugging me along the beach. “So, just relax and follow your instincts. I bet, if Stuart could hear you right now, he’d be shocked. I bet you two were so wild last night, it didn’t even resemble a vanilla virgin’s first time.”

I lost my virginity hog-tied with a Christmas bow.

“Definitely not,” I agree. My spirits lift, and I thank Cheryl for her kind words, for taking the time to listen to me.

“Oh, it was nothing,” Cheryl says. “My husband and I have been coming here to blow off steam for years, and girl, I’ve heard it all. I’ve seen it all.” She tosses me a wink and splashes back into the waves, like a mermaid, like the ocean is her true home. “Especially at those Christmas balls,” she calls over her shoulder, then dives beneath a wave and strokes through the shallows, leaving me wondering... how will the Christmas ball be?