I don't care who you are, when you go on vacation in a place where the water is warm and the clothes are skimpier and the alcohol flows freely, you think about what it would be like to take a stranger you'll never see again to bed. You might never do it, but the thought crosses your mind, especially if you've been out of the dating scene for years. For someone like me, who spends six months out of the year in a tropical resort paradise, it becomes easy to spot the ones who are toying with the thought for the first time--or are ready to have it awakened in them.
I was in the bar of a chic Japanese hotel near the beach, all white linens and natural woods, geometrically precise. People attending small business conferences often stayed here, which meant women with friends or coworkers rather than husbands and boyfriends. I knew the story the moment I saw the two of them-- a slender, athletic blonde in her early 30s, fresh from her workout no doubt, striding into the bar with the confidence of a long time veteran of the singles scene, and behind her a friend, chubby and insecure, round face partly hidden behind black curls and glasses, neckline higher and skirt longer than anyone else in the bar, trying to show off the good personality everyone always said she had. Wishing she were somewhere else and didn't have to be the audience for her friend playing the field.
I gave them a moment to settle in and then called the waitress over to send a Cosmopolitan over to their table. She made no effort to hide her doubts about my odds with the blonde. I let the drink go over, let Blondie look over toward my table and seem disdainful-- while still keeping the drink. I went to the bar and ordered another, and then walked it over myself.
"Um, I don't know how to say this," I said, and Blondie gave me a look intended to let me know that I'd already struck out, from the first word. This was going to be fun. "But actually, the waitress got it wrong. I intended this drink for you," I said, setting it down in front of the chubby friend.
I could practically feel the cold breeze from one end and the rising heat from the other. Even though I wasn't looking at her, I could tell Blondie was about ready to kill me, while her friend started to blush. I gave her a friendly look, and then I let a little bit of a smile escape and I saw that she was smiling too, despite herself. She was starting to realize that the thing she'd been waiting all her life to happen had just happened-- someone had picked her over one of her conventionally pretty (or slutty) friends, and in the most humiliatingly public way possible.
We chitchatted about where they were from and what they were doing here, Blondie giving me terse one-word answers, her friend happy to tell me, but trying not to talk too much, get carried away with the attention. It didn't take long to bore Blondie with it. I'm going to go get some fresh air, I heard Blondie say behind me. Are you coming, Julie?
I looked at her to let her know that she didn't have to, and then I said, "I would be very grateful if you would finish that drink, and tell me more about your trip."
She looked at me, and then she looked at her friend, and she said, "You go on ahead. I'll catch up later." And then she smiled at me.
An hour later, having talked all the small talk we had, having enjoyed each other's company in an unstrained way, we were walking the beach. She had her sandals off and in one hand, and I adored the sight of her chubby little toes as they squished into the sand with each step. The wind whipped her skirt, outlining her thick, shapely thighs as she walked along, and occasionally even revealing, for an instant, the shape of her large round ass. She was big, but she didn't have a sloppy figure. She had unbuttoned her top one button, and her curly hair flowed freely and naturally. She was lovely, and I hoped soon to prove it to her.
We came to a secluded point; the moonlight and the surf were all the help any seduction could need, and as she sat back against a rock, her toes crinkling the sand up between them, I leaned in next to her and took her chin in my hand. We kissed, gently; then I took her glasses off and stroked her cheek. She shivered a little, and grinned at me.
I kissed her again, this time we both kissed more passionately, and I let my hand run down to her neck and the top of her chest. She lifted hers to the same place on me and stroked my chest. I slid it further, then unbuttoned another button, and the last, letting the wind open her shirt as I ran my hand over the top of her large, dangling breasts.
Now she rubbed her leg against my crotch, and again grinned, realizing she was having an effect on me. Luckily, her bra's catch was in front and I snapped it open with a single flick, and now her beautiful oversize breasts were set loose in the moonlight. I massaged the large, rounded globes as she kissed me harder, jabbing her tongue into my mouth; then she pushed one up toward me and I began licking my way around the aureole and taking the fat, finger-sized nipple into my mouth.