I climbed between the long white wooden legs of the lifeguard chair. My hands were shaking. The hot night was on my skin, and the humidity was cloying. But I was sweating for other reasons too. I stood under the lifeguard chair, steadying myself with my hands on the wooden beams, steadying my breathing with all the courage I could muster. I opened the plastic grocery bag.
My skin tingled as I unstrapped my sandals and put them in the bag. Then I stripped off my swimsuit, and time slowed down. I stuffed it into the bag, twisted it shut, and buried it in the sand with my hands, under the lifeguard chair. And I stepped out from this dubious shelter, and stood on the beach. I felt the night on my body. I heard the sound of the waves crashing in my ears, and a salt breeze touched my skin, arousing every part of me. Nude and vulnerable to the night. I took a deep breath and forced myself to let go of the lifeguard chair. I started walking.
My blood sang in my ears, and my heart thundered. Moisture beaded on my trembling skin. I felt everything. The sand under my feet, the heat and the wind, my own breasts swaying, my thighs brushing together. I was very aware of the parts the bathing suit had covered now, the breeze touching me intimately, unprotected and wet with sweat. And, I began to notice, something else.
We're not supposed to do this. From the beginning we're taught to cover up our shame, observe decency, and not offend people or be obscene. We look at pictures of each other's bodies in secret, and only share our own in the most intimate company. We've become ashamed. Maybe I have too, I've never seen myself as a supermodel. But tonight was different. I'd only taken off a small amount of fabric, but I'd removed my whole upbringing, and there I was on an open expanse of beach. And if anyone cared to look, there I would be, subject to their scrutiny...their judgement...their desire. Perhaps their lust. The thought made me giddy. And excited.
I began timidly, hunched, my arms wrapped protectively around my breasts, one hand reaching to cover between my legs, and slowly I forced myself to hold my head up, drop one and then the other arm to my sides. Then I remembered to relax, and breathe, and swing my arms like a normal person as I got more comfortable with my body. It was all the confidence I could muster. Deep down I was terrified.
Realistically, I'm sure no one saw me that night. But my young mind invented hundreds of observers. All of them police. The danger of getting caught, real consequences, the sheer badness of what I was doing made the rush infinitely stronger. My whole body pulsed with my heartbeat. And I felt a slick warmth on my thighs. The nectar of my own excitement. I was desperate. I wanted so badly to touch myself, but somehow I could not, like it would break the spell, like this part of the exhibit was not mine to take, but another's. This was not to fulfill any rape fantasy, but I would have probably laid down and offered myself to anyone who happened to meet me that night.
I came upon another hotel, right on the beach like ours. I'd been on the beach at night a number of times before with my clothes on, and I remembered this place, whose deck lights shined alleys of light down the beach after hours while the rest of the building slept. I challenged myself not to break stride through each one, appearing and disappearing to pairs of eyes unseen and unseeable up on the deck behind those blinding lamps. There were nine. I counted. I rode an unbelievable current of tension when I emerged, and by then I think I was trickling down to about my knees.
I was alone again, just me and the ocean, and the occasional lifeguard chair. The overcast sky still protected me. After a long while, I was beginning to walk naturally. I'd gotten it out of my system. Maybe it was time to turn back. I'd looked at the beach from my window on a night like tonight, and it is black as black, passers by only revealed if they are loud and obnoxious. You couldn't even see the ocean on a night like tonight. After one's eyes adjust, it is easy to believe the whole world can see, when in fact the should of dusk obscures all, even if someone cared to look at this hour. This realization had now taken hold, finally allowing the thrill to pass.
