When you get right down to it I'm just your average sort of person. I'm not short or tall, ugly or gorgeous, dumb or brilliant. I'm average. You get a hundred average people and I'll be right there in the middle of them, the most average of the lot.
Not that this bothers me. Would it bother the average person? No, and I am that average person. That is why what happened was so unusual. For me, anyway.
I was sitting on the beach in a very nice green and blue checked bikini. I know they say you shouldn't wear blue and green together but, believe me, with this bikini it worked. As I was saying, I was sitting there, enjoying the sun and enjoying the occasional attention of the hunting packs. At twenty I was old enough and experienced enough to be able to chase the wolves away without upsetting anyone.
I spotted this guy strolling along the beach. There are some people who seem to just stand out from the crowd and this guy was one of them. When I say he was strolling along the beach it was more a case of he moved through the scattered crowd with all the grace of a tiger moving through the jungle. He had an animal magnetism that just seemed to radiate out from him.
I wasn't the only one looking at him. His sexual charisma was of the sort that had all the women giving him a quick look, and most of them not so quick.
I can't really pin-point what it was about him. He was Hispanic in appearance but he didn't have a foreign flavour to him. I suspect that he would have looked at home anywhere in the world. His hair was glossy black and slightly rumpled, as though he'd brushed it into shape before coming to the beach and hadn't worried if the wind disturbed it. Six foot tall, at least, broad at the shoulder and narrow at the hip, moving like a natural athlete.
His bright blue eyes seemed to argue against his Hispanic look but on him they just seemed right. He had a nice tan, as well. I wish I could get a tan like that. He wore a smile that seemed to light up if he looked directly at someone. I know because I caught the full wattage of it when he looked at me. Talk about be still, my throbbing heart.
When he drew level to where I was reclining he stopped and looked down at me and my heart just turned over. Instant love, or instant lust at the very least.
"Hi," he said, blinding me with his smile. "I'm Ricardo. And you are?"
"Ah, Angela, and hi to you," was my witty rejoinder.
"Mm. Angel. A fitting name. I was wondering if you could answer a little question for me, my little Angel?"
"Depends," I said cautiously. If he was going to ask if I had any money to spare he was out of luck. Not because I wouldn't have been willing to give it to him but because I didn't have any to give.
"If you turn your head and look up towards the road you will see that there are some nice tall bushes and various trees there."
I dutifully turned my head and looked towards the road and, yes, there was a long stretch of trees and bushes, divided by an occasional track running through them to the road.
"Yes?" I said, acknowledging that he was correct and that there were bushes there.
"What I was wondering was whether you would do me the honour of allowing me to escort you to those bushes to a little private place I know of so that I can peel off that lovely bikini and make gentle love to you?"
I just blinked and looked at him. He didn't just ask me to go behind the bushes with him so he could fuck me. No-one would approach a perfect stranger like that. I must have misheard.
"Ah, excuse me?"
"I said I want to make love to you, right now. Come with me to where we have a little more privacy and I will show you how much I want you."
OK, so he had said what I thought he said. I still wasn't sure I believed it.
"You want me to go with you, a complete stranger, into the bushes so you can, ah, have your way with me?"
"Yes."
Well, that was laying it on the line. Talk about a direct proposition. I'd been approached directly before but never quite so blatantly. Well, actually, I have. Some men are awfully blunt when they're pissed. I've just never been propositioned in such a charming manner. His whole attitude seemed to be that I'd be doing him an enormous favour if I did this little thing, and how could I disappoint him?
I was wondering if this line had ever worked for him when reality suddenly caught up with me. While I'd been dithering and rehearsing how to say thanks, but no thanks, he'd held out his hands and I'd taken hold of them, and now he was drawing me to my feet.
Common sense said take your hands out of his and sit down, you idiot, while lust was saying go, go, go. While I was debating with myself Ricardo was walking with me across the sand, his hand holding mine, whispering soft word of future delights. I was still trying to make up my mind when I found myself moving into the trees to Ricardo's secluded nook.
Talk about being sure of himself. There was a towel spread on the ground so he wouldn't have to worry about sand. There was also a small chest with some cold drinks in it. It was a case of oh, shit, but I didn't see how I could back out now. Mind you, if he'd grabbed at me I would probably have screamed and bolted but the swine didn't do anything so obvious. Instead he smiled at me.
"You'll be wanting to see what you're getting into," he said softly, "so you can change your mind if you want to."
I want to, my head shrieked. No, you don't, growled my genitals. They had a point. I could already feel heat being stoked up down there. Every step I'd taken towards the trees had set little flutters of anticipatory heat tingling through me. Ricardo, in the meantime, was showing me precisely what I was getting into. Or what was getting into me.
