It was getting dark. Ed stood by the window, gloomily staring at the hotel building that blocked the view of the ocean. Hands in the pockets of his shorts, he rocked back and forth on his toes. There was nothing else to do. Internet was down, TV had nothing but sports, news, and commercials, and the dance floor was full of old people. There were almost no young people at the resort, and he hadn’t managed to meet anyone all day.

He already regretted coming here with his parents. Would’ve been better to stay home. Hang out with friends, play video games. He sighed and was about to go lie down on the bed when a light suddenly flicked on in the window across from him.

A young woman, probably 20–22, wearing a bright red pareo, closed the door behind her, walked to the center of the room, and stopped near the foot of the bed. She untied the knot at her chest and let the fabric fall to the floor.

All thoughts of boredom vanished. Ed stared at her with growing interest. He had never seen her before.

She was beautiful. Even brown tan covered her slim body and long legs. The tiny black bikini triangles barely covered her high breasts and the almost flat lower belly. Jet-black curls fell past her shoulders, accentuating the length of her neck. On her elongated face with a narrow chin, full lips and large emerald-green eyes stood out.

The stranger reached for the ties of her bikini top. Ed leaned forward, holding his breath. Would she take it off or not?

The anticipation made his legs tremble. He desperately wanted her to keep going. Just don’t stop, please don’t stop. And please don’t look this way. Damn it, why didn’t he turn off the light in his room?

But it was too late now. Any movement could draw her attention. Twenty yards separated them, no more.

Something distracted her. She turned, walked to the head of the bed, picked up the phone, said something, listened, nodded. Then she turned toward the opposite wall and started fixing her hair, striking different poses as if admiring herself in the mirror.

She reached for the bikini ties again, turned sideways to the mirror — which meant facing the window — and kept looking at her reflection.

Ed licked his lips. He watched hungrily as she slowly spread her arms, as her chest rose and fell, as the black fabric stretched tight.

Her hands stopped. He almost cried out in frustration. The tension felt like it would tear him apart from the inside.

Then a quick movement — and the heavy cups fell away, revealing white triangles of skin and large dark areolas.

His heart slammed against his ribs like a bell. A roaring filled his ears.

Ed pressed his forehead to the glass, devouring with his eyes the natural beauty of a young woman’s body laid bare before him.

She turned a little side to side, lifted her breasts in her palms as if weighing them. Ran her hands down to her knees, back up to her armpits, shook her head, fluffed her hair with both hands. Smiled, clearly pleased with herself, and reached for the ties of her bikini bottoms.

A wave of anxious excitement rolled through Ed. Overwhelming desire to be next to her, to touch her, to press himself against her. Please don’t stop, please don’t stop, he begged silently.

She turned her head.

Their eyes met.

Everything inside him collapsed. He’d been caught peeping like some middle-school kid. His ears burned, a lump formed in his throat. But he couldn’t look away. He simply couldn’t force himself to.

Still holding his gaze, she walked toward the window.

Now she’ll close the curtains and it’ll all be over. Ed understood this with the doomed certainty of a condemned man. What could he possibly do?

She stopped one or two steps short of the window. Smiled. And pulled the ties of her bottoms.

A small white triangle appeared low on her belly, with a neat black arrow of trimmed hair pointing downward.

Ed forgot how to breathe. His knees buckled. Inside his shorts it suddenly felt hot and painfully tight.

Now he could see all of her. From mid-thigh to the top of her head. It was the most beautiful thing he’d seen in his eighteen years. This sight had trapped him in a web there was no escaping. His eyes darted from breasts to pubic mound and back, sometimes lingering on her navel.

Finally he managed to lift his gaze to her face. She was smiling. Gave him a little wave.

He stepped back from the window, breathed on the glass, and with a trembling finger drew a small heart. Looked at her again.

She beckoned him outside with a gesture. Turned, showing him her flexible back and perfect ass, picked up the pareo, draped it over herself, looked at him once more, repeated the invitation, then left the room.