Except that while they were sitting in the bar having dinner, Maria kept bringing it up. Larissa couldn't figure out whether she was just teasing her, or whether she had been affected more than she thought. Later, they went to a party at a friend's house, and Maria told the story... all of it except how Larissa got herself off at the end. Which was good, because that would've destroyed their friendship if she'd mentioned it.
Before she went to sleep, Larissa saved the man's phone number in her contacts under 'Hot Beach Guy'.
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Her love life wasn't that thrilling before Covid. She'd blown off a boyfriend just before the first lockdown. She'd found out he was two-timing her, the lousy bastard. She'd had nothing for months, and eventually she'd made a friends-with-benefits arrangement with another so-so guy she knew who had no one, so she could get out of her little flat during the second lockdown, but really, he was just a wham-bam type, and both of them had let that lapse out of boredom once the lockdown loosened. Then there'd been nothing much... until that couple on the beach.
After that... It just wouldn't line up for her. She tried out a few guys she met while clubbing, but those kind of guys... bedding them was like a performance art, as long as you didn't try to talk to them about anything, and that was OK, but she just felt as if she wasn't properly there. She tried drinking more. No, that didn't help. Clubbing was weird anyway... Covid restrictions and masks... maybe it was only the crazy people clubbing now? None of them compared to the Hot Beach Guy.
Maybe the problem was the kind of guys she picked up clubbing. Maybe she needed to build an emotional connection before laying the guy. So she spent several weeks dating a friend of a friend she met at a party, but when she finally took him to bed, she'd been repulsed by the actual sex. It was just something about his dick... Larissa didn't understand that at all. But it was certainly over with him after that.
Had Hot Beach Guy really said he was going to spank that awesome woman?
Then a few guys from parties, in her social circles, a run of them in a row. Some of them very good in bed, and some nice guys, but none of them moved her. More of the same - what was wrong with her? Perhaps, she should swing from the chandelier? One, Two, Three, she threw the drinks back at a club and then did a guy in the club in front of everyone. Yeah, that was awesome, except that just got her thrown out of the club in disgrace. Before she finished. Wrong club. Or wrong life.
Angry and frustrated, she'd been easy meat for another friend of a friend who she'd kept away from before because he was a bit of a sleaze, but he noticed that she told the story of the beach couple a bit often and offered to give her a similar experience. She should have known better. But hell... nothing else was working. So she gave it a go.
Bad mistake... Bad bad bad. She'd been looking for the elegant refinement, the style that she'd seen on the beach. The kind that turned her into a classy lady like that awesome woman. What she got instead was the exact opposite. She felt dirty and violated. And maybe raped... he'd tied her up, and rammed deep into her mouth, and then her pussy. That'd been, well, survivable, though not as much fun as she hoped. Then he'd tried ramming up her ass, but he'd stopped when she screamed loud enough. But that wasn't the worst. His attempt at smacking her was worse - it just hurt. But the worst was actually the names he called her... trash, tart, whore, pig-cunt. *Slut*. She left his house as quickly as she could, sobbing and shaking. Well, she had said he could do whatever he wanted, even if she'd been drinking... she just hadn't dreamed that he'd want to do that. That lady on the beach had said she needed a good reason to absolutely trust a guy before giving him that much power over her. Well, that was sure true. That woman trusted her man ... maybe Larissa could trust him too? She kept seeing his name in her contacts. Hot Beach Guy. It couldn't be worse than what she had?
Next, she let herself get picked up by a girl who hit on her while she was out drinking - she'd had enough of men for the year. That was just more of the same... pleasant for a while, but somehow, she felt disconnected, and there just wasn't the big ending she needed, and so she felt even more disconnected. What the fuck was wrong with her? Hot Beach Guy?
What was left? Nothing? But she really needed sex. A couple to her restaurant, a good-looking guy with a hot girl dressed for sex, and she let them pick her up from the restaurant she worked at. Bad idea under any conditions, but the way the girl looked at her, that did it for her. They took her home, drank together and then went to bed. The girl kissed her real good, and then they got to business. Getting nailed by the guy while the girl licked her all over was the nearest to real fun she had in bed for ages - maybe because she was pretty much held down while it was happening. But it only lasted a few minutes and then they paused to drink some more. Something happened to the mood, and the couple suddenly started sniping at each other. He'd enjoyed it too much? She'd enjoyed it too much? Not enough? Her head was spinning by the time the mood turned to ice. She wanted to leave but she fell down trying to make it to the door. She lay against the wall trying not to throw up. She pretended to pass out, listening to the silence, and then did fall asleep. When she woke up, only the guy was around, and he dragged her back to the bed and nailed her again. She was hungover, and confused, but he was done by the time she was able to think properly. Fucking raped again, the fucker, but fuck, she knew she would've said yes to him fucking her if he'd actually fucking asked. At least it would've been safe sex then. Unless she did fucking say yes? Or did it count from before she passed out? She wasn't sure. She got out of there as quick as she could too.
Fuck, how could life get worse?
Come Christmas, and she went home to her parent's place for holidays through to the New Year. No sex at her parent's place, that was for sure. Nor any peace. Bastards. But it wasn't actually quite as unpleasant this time, her brother was better - still, the icy silence was unchanged, and her father just as abusive to her mum. She heard him fucking her in bed... sickening, like always. At least she could drink, and she did plenty of that. If she got her parents fucked up enough before bed, maybe her mother wouldn't get fucked so bad in bed. Then one day, the fridge was empty, and she sat outside in the garden beside her childhood dog's memorial, reviewing the shit year. Definitely the worst of her life. Covid, sure, but what was wrong with her? She felt like she was still in emotional lockdown. How could she break out of this funk? Then she lay in bed that night looking at the Hot Beach Guy in her contacts. Maybe...
The final straw was when Ian, who she had a thing with back in high school, heard she was in town, and took her swimming on a hot day, to a water hole they'd used back during the day. There was this one spot, where she'd had the best sex of her life, and they went there again. Yeah, it was nearly as good, she guessed, but he still didn't do it for her quite like the Hot Guy on the beach had. And then his girlfriend arrived just before she was about to come, and her best - or maybe least worst - sex of the year ended in a screaming match between Ian and his girlfriend, and both of them screaming at her for needing a ride home, and for just existing. Couldn't get out of that at all, let alone quickly. Summed up her year, really.
Then her mother wanted to know about her dating, and whether there was a boy in the picture. Fuck that. Never going to talk to her about it, even if it ever was good, that's for sure.
Driving back to Melbourne after the new year, she decided. Come late January, she was going to get in contact with Hot Beach Guy. He could do whatever the hell he wanted to her. It had to be better than what she had now. In the meantime... she went to the doctor to check she was clean, bought a new dildo and practiced deep throating obsessively. That woman with him was a ten, whereas Larissa was maybe an eight on a good day. Enough, before this, but for this guy... She figured she better be really good orally. A ten... that woman wouldn't have to deep throat, so at least she could bring that to the table. Though, when she considered that woman had teenage children old enough to live with their lovers, and she still looked like that? Maybe she was more like a twenty than a ten... But mothers didn't have to take it down the throat... yeah. She had a chance then.
On the Monday morning of the third week of January, she finally brought up his name in her contacts, and went to send him an SMS. But what to say? She must have drafted a hundred different messages before she finally sent him a simple one the next day, Tuesday afternoon:
"I'm the girl who took the photos of your wife on the beach. You're in my dreams. Want to meet up?"
All night she was checking her phone constantly. Had he seen it? Would he answer? She couldn't get anything done, could hardly eat. If he answered, and she met him, what would happen then? All sorts of scenarios ran through her head. Some of them really bad. Maybe this was a very bad idea. Did he really tell that woman she was going to get spanked? But everything else was a disaster, and shit, she was so depressed, so fucked up. So why the hell not see him if he was up for it? The worst that could happen is he'd fuck her. Unless he fucked her up, but hell, like she cared anymore.
The next day, she got an answer!
"What days of the week are you free to meet in the morning?"
Over the next twenty minutes, she told him her first name and found that his was Dave and agreed to meet with him in a café on Thursday morning - she could drop work that day. She didn't know it, but when she looked, it was there on Google street view. As if that mattered really - she would go anywhere he said.
She hardly slept Wednesday night, tossing and turning. She was going to meet Hot Beach Guy! She finally slept and woke up at her normal time. She'd set out three outfits, covering a range of sex-kitten, sexy or classy, and she'd see how she felt in the morning. Well, she still didn't know... she ended up choosing the middle option, but the sex-kitten underwear. She shaved herself in the shower, put on her face, got dressed, and went to meet her fate.
