"Damn! It's already noon!"
As I checked my watch that was lying on the sink, I started to panic. I quickly got out of the bathroom and began to dress. I know Sasha was expecting me to pick her up in fifteen minutes, and there I was, still half-dressed, my apartment a mess that seemed like it will need ages to tidy up. Fuck it, no one will come in here while I'm gone, guess I'll clean it up when I get back home. At least my suitcase was packed. OK, let's calculate – I need at least ten more minutes to finish up and get in the car, then some fifteen minutes to get to Iva's place... I picked up the phone and started to dial. After less than one ring, a wired and impatient voice answered: "Tell me you're not gonna be late..."
"Sorry, darling, but no more than fifteen minutes..." I used my most apologetic tone of voice, trying to sound like a puppy that knew it did something bad, but still wanted its master to know it was full of fluffy love.
Sigh was heard on the other side. "Yeah, OK... Just don't let it be half an hour. I'm all ready and I really need to get out of here."
"Go down to the café and have a quick drink, I'll try to get there in ten."
"Sure." She hung up. Thank God it was the beginning of summer and that it was more than 90 degrees outside, so I just needed to put on a light dress. I picked a turquoise one that ended just above my knees, comfortable for a long ride, pulled it over my head and straightened it out. I took my purse and checked if I had everything: wallet - check, sunglasses – check, car keys – check, apartment keys - check, basic make-up... Oh, and about fifty other things that were in there since the dawn of time. I hope that the next Nobel winner is a person who invents a search app for a purse, because it would inevitably lower the total amount of global tension and stress.
I grabbed the handle of the suitcase and headed for the door. I was already in the hallway, closing the door behind me...
"Shit!" I quickly turned around, went back inside and picked up my camera from the kitchen counter. I could go naked on a trip, but I couldn't do it without my faithful Nikon. Especially now, at this moment in time, when taking pictures was my favorite way of escaping from reality that kicked me in the back a bit too often. Oh, and if we're talking about naked... I went to my bedroom and opened a dresser drawer, pulling out first panties that were available. I quickly put them on. Occasionally I didn't mind going commando, but driving for three hours with Iva in the shotgun didn't feel like the right occasion. OK, time to get going.
***
I was finally in the car and heading towards Iva's neighborhood, so I started to sum up the whole situation – something I tended to do a lot lately. We both really needed this vacation. I had the worst year, what with the New Year's break-up thing, my dad dying, losing my job due to my boss's project called 'funnel the money out of the firm and into private off-shore accounts' that was cancelled prematurely by the anti-money laundering squad... I couldn't even count the times I just folded up on the floor and cried my heart out. And even worse, I couldn't even begin to count the times I wanted to do it, but I didn't, for whatever reason. I did have some money left from the inheritance, so I was able to afford some leisure time before coming back to the real world and starting a new career. I know there was some serious job-hunting to be done in the future.
Sasha wasn't doing so bad – well, not until she found out, about two weeks ago, that her dear fiancé was doing his co-worker, a woman that even pretended to be her friend. So yeah, she was also in shambles. Since they lived together in his apartment, she was the one moving out and – of all things – went back to live with her overbearing parents, at least until she found herself a new place to stay.
Last Saturday, as we were having a second bottle of wine and a third joint at my place, alternately laughing and crying about our personal derailments, an idea was born that we should just take a break. Without delay. Go somewhere quiet, relaxed, where it'll be just the two of us and not a chance in hell that we'll meet someone we know. Still, as Sasha couldn't get more than a week of at this time of year, it had to be close so we don't lose a lot of time traveling. And it had to be warm and familiar enough. Our seaside, definitely. We googled a bit and picked the Island as our destination. Images were gorgeous, the place was almost deserted in the pre-season – reachable only by a scarcely scheduled hour-long ferry ride, and there was that feeling of serenity we got from watching a couple of YouTube videos. Or maybe it was the weed and alcohol talking, who knows. Anyhow, we logged into AirBnB and found ourselves a lovely studio apartment which we booked immediately, from this Friday till next Sunday. Ten days – OK, nine and a half days – of joyful seclusion.
I picked up the phone while approaching the street where Sasha was probably drinking some strong liquor currently. She was radiating pure joy while answering.
"You here?"
"Yeah."
"Office Bar. Third on the right. I'm coming out."
She threw her suitcase in the car and sat down on the passenger seat. She was – for lack of a more appropriate adjective – nasty-pretty. Naturally red-haired, big-boobed, 5ft9in tall menace. Her face was distinctive in a way that she was recognizable to anyone who saw her once – pale skin, slightly hooked nose and piercing green eyes, currently covered by Ray-bans. And her sharp tongue was something that was unforgettable to anyone who heard her talk. When she was in the wrong mood, she was able to make the other person feel like a victim of genocide. Well, any other person except me. I knew how to handle her, and that's why she probably loved me so much, ever since we first met in 6th grade.
"You're late."
"And you're being an anal bitch. We've got time."
"Enough?"
"I could drive in reverse and we'd still catch the ferry."
"Then, my girl, let's put on some music and hit the roaaad! Woohoo! Giddy-ya!"
I pecked her on the cheek, put the car in gear, pumped up the volume on the radio and stepped on the gas pedal.
***
"Oh. My. God. This is amaaaazing!" Sasha yelled out while throwing herself on a king-size bed in the middle of our apartment. It was really great. The lady who rented it just finished re-decorating it, so everything was brand new, but it still had that indistinguishable Dalmatian touch. Small kitchen, not really built for cooking (as if we had any intention to cook), living space with the aforementioned bed in the middle posing as a sofa, and a pristine new bathroom. Just what we needed. From the moment we drove of the ferry ramp, I felt something special in the air. It felt like any negative energy was doomed to vanish in this place. It seemed like a perfect place to forget about the bad, and focus on healing my battered emotions.
On the aspect of needs, we also needed to eat. The lady told us there are three restaurants in the Town. There was also one place in the Village, on the other side of the Island, but we definitely didn't feel like going anywhere further than hundred paces from our accommodation.
"Shower, then chow?" I asked, rhetorically, then turned around to see Sasha already naked and heading to the bathroom.
"While you talk, I'm already on it." She hopped towards the bathroom, her big boobs funnily bouncing while her tight bottom wiggled. For some reason, I always found it funny when I saw her naked. I've seen her a million times in Eva's costume, but somehow it was always a 'Heh heh' moment. She was sexy, and had a really great body, but still...
I also quickly undressed and dug a short, blue dress out of the suitcase to prepare it for putting it on after the shower. When I heard Sasha close the water in the shower, I headed towards the bathroom so that we can switch inside without losing time. As she was exiting and I was entering the tub, she slapped my butt.
"Oh! You feel like you've been working out!" She said jokingly, grabbing a towel.
"Just some yoga. It does wonders to the body" – I answered while already releasing the thick stream of lukewarm water on me. "Too bad it didn't work on my mind the way it should have."
"Whaaat?"
"I said...." I realized she can't hear me, so I yelled: "Never mind!"
We chit-chatted a bit while getting ready to go out. I came out of the shower while she was getting dressed in the room. I looked myself in the mirror. For the first time in months, I didn't feel like I was looking at the reflection of someone ten years older than me. It was just an hour or so in this place, and I started to feel rejuvenated. I actually felt pretty again. It might even sound weird or narcissistic, but I loved my face, and never even imagined changing anything about me. I loved my green-blue eyes, my narrow pointy nose, those couple of freckles on my face and my full lips. And I loved my tits. Really lovely pair of smaller but perky 34B boobs with pointy, sensitive nipples. I could go bra-less whenever I wanted since they didn't jiggle around. OK, If I got cold or aroused, or just if they felt like going hard (which was really often), it became public knowledge, so at least I tried to pick something looser to wear over them when I didn't want to show it. However, more often than not, I did want to show it. It made me horny, knowing there are eyes straying from their intended focus onto my chest. But honestly, I couldn't remember when was the last time I did that. So I decided it was going to be today.
I got dressed in a minute, just pulling up my panties and throwing a dress on me. I looked at Sasha, who put on a shirt with a deep cut in front, making her voluptuous cleavage pour out. She wasn't one to go out without a bra unless she wanted to cause traffic accidents with her 36DD's. We got ready and then headed out toward the bistro that seemed to be the closest to our apartment. Since the Town was basically three-four streets and one square, it meant that the place was about 20 yards away. Of five tables on the terrace, only one was taken, so we just sat down at the next empty table. A young waiter, probably in his late teens and most probably the son of the owner, slowly paced to our table.
"How'd ya do, ladies?" He asked trying to play a role of the 'cool' one.
"Hungry. And thirsty. And horny." Said Sasha, making sure that last sentence was muffled so he wasn't sure what he heard. Sometimes she could be really nasty when she wanted.
"I'm sorry?" The kid was sure he heard what Sasha said, but was even more certain it was not possible that she actually said it.
"Apology accepted" – replied Sasha while I was snorting. "Do you, by any chance, have some quality meat?"
I needed a handkerchief to wipe my eyes from suppressing my laughter.
"Yes, ma'am. We got sum chicken or veal on a grill. Or maybe beefsteak if ya'r into the hard stuff?" OK, now I couldn't tell if he got it or not.
"Oh, I'm always up for the hard stuff, but it's so rare to find the excellent hard things these days." Yes, she was going to be a joy tonight.
"Young man, be so kind and bring me your finest piece of that cow. And please make it so rare that it can walk itself to this table. What's the side dish?"
